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“Mr. Rutledge’s schedule is tight, I’m afraid. What did you have in mind? How many people? Uh-huh.”
She kissed his neck, lightly sucking the skin up against her teeth. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Cut it out, Fancy. I’m busy.”
Pouting, she flounced off the bed. Moving to the bureau mirror, she paused to plump her hair. Bending at the waist, she flung the thick mane upside down. When she straightened up, she was encouraged to notice that Eddy had been looking at her ass. Facing him with her feet widely spaced, she gathered up her short skirt, flirtatiously raising it an inch at a time.
“How soon do you have to know?”
As Eddy continued to speak smoothly into the telephone, she ran her splayed hands up the fronts of her thighs. Her thumbs met at the red satin triangle covering her pubis. She stroked it once, twice, then peeled the panties off and dangled them in front of his nose.
“I’ll speak with Mr. Rutledge and get back to you as soon as possible. In any event, we appreciate your interest. Thank you for the invitation.”
He hung up. To Fancy’s dismay he brushed past her and went to the bathroom, where he combed his hair and washed his hands.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded when she joined him.
“Nothing. I’m in a hurry, that’s all.”
“You’re mad because Uncle Tate had you fire those assholes, aren’t you?”
“Not mad. I just disagree, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t take it out on me.”
“I’m no
t.” He straightened his tie and checked his cuff links.
“Quite a scene this morning, wasn’t it? I’ve never seen Uncle Tate so hot. He’s kinda cute when he’s in that mood. I love it when a man is on the verge of losing his temper.” She slipped her arms beneath Eddy’s, reached around him, and pressed her hands against his fly. “That potential violence is so sexy.”
“I haven’t got time for you now, Fancy.” He removed her hands and stepped back into the bedroom.
She flopped down on the bed and watched as he sorted through the papers in his briefcase. He looked so handsome when his brow was furrowed with concentration.
Inspired, Fancy scooted up the bed until her back was against the headboard. She peeled her white cotton sweater over her head and tossed it on the floor beside her discarded panties. Then, left only in her miniskirt and red cowboy boots, she softly called his name. He turned. Slowly, she dragged her tongue over her lower lip and whispered, “Ever had a cowgirl?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” he said blandly. “Last night. In the ass. Or don’t you remember?”
Fancy’s widespread knees snapped together like the jaws of a sprung trap. She rolled to the edge of the bed, picked up her sweater, and worked it over her head, furiously thrusting her arms into the sleeves.
When she confronted him, her eyes were shimmering with tears. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“You seemed to think so last night.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she yelled.
Eddy calmly closed his briefcase and picked up the jacket of his suit. “Nice is a strange word coming from you.” He headed for the door.
She caught his sleeve as he moved past her. “Why are you being so hateful to me?”
“I’m in a hurry, Fancy.”
“Then you’re not mad?”
He sidestepped her. “I’m not mad.”
“Will I see you later?”
“At the rally this afternoon.” He patted his pocket to make sure he had his room key, then reached for the doorknob.
