Lethal Exposure

“I’m having lunch with him tomorrow.” She was making it sound like a date, but what was wrong with that? Who knew what direction things might take? One thing was clear, they had chemistry.

It’s not a date.

Okay, so it wasn’t really a date. It was an interview, but still, he’d certainly seemed interested in her. Which was surprising, considering how she’d embarrassed herself over a case of mistaken identity. Remembering what had transpired in the exam room, she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“A date?” Elle was a sensible redhead with dazzling green eyes and a way of smiling that made everyone like her immediately. She reached for a second slice of pepperoni-and-black-olive pizza. “That’s great. It’s about time. I’m happy for you.”

“Who’s the guy?” Vanessa asked over the rim of her frosty beer mug. Vanessa was a beautiful Latina with long black hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a Mensa IQ. “Anyone we know?”

“His name is Sebastian Black.”

Vanessa set her mug down and leaned back against the red vinyl booth. “Is he the public-relations specialist from L.A. that the hospital’s board of directors hired to polish Confidential’s tarnished image?”

“He is.”

“You move fast,” Elle said. “He just got in to town. The entire E.R. staff’s buzzing about how cute he is.”

“He was the fast mover.” Julie recalled those tense, exciting moments in the exam room when they’d touched. Her fingers were still tingling from the contact.

“Watch out, Tanner filled me in on the guy’s reputation,” Vanessa said, referring to her fiancé, Tanner Doyle. As head of security at Confidential Rejuvenations, it was Tanner’s job to check the backgrounds of all potential employees, including contract workers. “Sebastian Black may be an excellent spin doctor, but he’s also got a reputation as something of a player.”

Julie’s stomach squeezed. Mindlessly, she pleated the red-and-white-checkered paper napkin in her lap. “Meaning…?”

“Handsome, rich, commitment-phobic. Rumor has it he’s got a woman in every city he visits.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she surprised herself by asking.

Vanessa and Elle gave each other startled looks, then turned to stare at Julie.

“Well?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You feel her forehead and see if she has a fever,” Vanessa told Elle. “I’ll check her pulse.”

They moved as if they were actually going to do it. Laughing, Julie held up her palms. “I’m not feverish, honest.”

Elle picked the olives off her pizza. “Where’s our little die-hard romantic? You were the one coaching us not to give up on romance and now, here you are, ready to take up with a playboy who’ll only end up breaking your heart.”

“About that,” Julie said. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” Her friends leaned forward, hanging on to her every word.

“Maybe it’s time I shook things up a little. Took a walk on the wild side. I’ve never been very good at separating love from sex and I think maybe it’s time I learned. I’m twenty-nine and after the number Roger did on me…” She let her words trail off.

“Seriously?” Elle asked.

Julie glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned closer to her friends and lowered her voice. “It’s been six months since Roger and I’m feeling—”

“Horny?” Vanessa supplied.

“Sexually frustrated.” Julie preferred her own word choice. She wasn’t as frank and earthy as her friend. “You guys, I think that’s why I failed my certifying exam. I’ve been having erotic dreams lately and I’ve been so distracted by them I can hardly concentrate on my work.”

Vanessa looked at Elle and nodded. “She’s horny. That’s my official medical diagnosis. Nothing wrong with being horny. It happens. Part of the human condition. Nothing to feel awkward about.”

“I don’t feel awkward.”

Vanessa waved a hand. “How come your face is turning as red as this booth?”

“Okay, all right.” Julie took a deep breath. “I’m horny. I need a man. And not just any man. I need a man who’s good in bed, but one who is not looking for a relationship. I need a no-strings-attached affair and I need it now.”

“Where is this coming from?” Elle asked. “This philosophy is so not you. Not that I think it’s a bad idea, mind you. Just that it’s not like you.”

Julie pulled Roger’s letter out of her pocket, unfolded it and passed it to her friend.

Elle read it and then handed Roger’s letter to Vanessa. “What a weasel.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Vanessa said after reading it. “The jerk.”

“I’m tired of being a starry-eyed romantic,” Julie said. “I’m sick of being naive when it comes to men.”

“And you think a fling with a totally inappropriate guy will fix that?” Vanessa raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I know it will.”

“What’s going to keep you from falling in love with him?” Elle asked.

“His total inappropriateness.”

Vanessa dragged another slice of pizza onto her plate. “Being totally inappropriate didn’t stop you from falling for Roger.”

Julie took a sip of her beer. It had gone warm. She grimaced. “That’s because I didn’t know he was inappropriate until I found out about his wife.”

“And his daughter who’s only a few years younger than you,” Elle pointed out. “Don’t forget.”

Julie jammed on a false smile. “Thank you so much for reminding me.”

“So you’ve set your sights on Sebastian Black as your totally inappropriate rebound guy?” Vanessa asked.

Had she? Until this moment, she hadn’t realized exactly what she’d been thinking, but yeah, maybe she had.

“It sounds like this Sebastian character is used to speeding in the fast lane and let’s face it, sweetie, you’re a slow-lane kinda girl,” Vanessa added.

“He did more than turn my head. Sebastian had me so confused I mistook him for a patient.” Julie explained about the Hollywood bigwig patient with priapism and Sebastian’s appearance on the wrong floor at exactly the wrong time, leading to one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.

The fact that Julie was even considering a temporary fling should have been a huge red flag. For her entire life she’d been the girl who collected housewares and linens for her hope chest and cut out pictures from brides’ magazines to paste into her wedding-plan book. Her favorite game had been Mystery Date. She was the girl who plastered posters of boy bands on her wall and kept a pink diary filled with teenage angst about her many crushes.

It hardly seemed fair that her friends had found true love while she was the one who was still single and searching. Not that she resented them their happiness. She just wanted her share, too.

Maybe Vanessa was right. There was no way she was cut out for a bumpy ride in the fast lane. She should probably call up Sebastian and tell him she couldn’t meet him for lunch tomorrow.