A Gentleman's Agreement Read Free Page B

before?”
    “Nah. I don’t like to
be tied down. My third baby momma almost got close to locking me down, though.”
He released a hearty laugh. “Baby girl was a freak in the bedroom. She almost
got me.”
    This just keeps
getting better and better . “How many... baby momma’s do you have?”
    “Eight…nine. Nah, eight.
I don’t—”
    Eunice massaged her
temple. “You don’t think one is yours, I remember.” God, please save me .
    Just then, her phone
rang. Clearly, the good Lord felt sorry for her. “Excuse me. I need to take
this,” she said, standing. “My job. You understand how that goes.”
    “They hiring? I’m
in-between jobs right now.”
    Or maybe he didn’t
understand. “I’ll ask.”
    She trudged away, never
in her life happier to see her boss’s name illuminate her screen. The call more
than likely meant there was trouble, but she welcomed the interruption. “ Bonjour,
Monsieur Farrington.” she said, pushing her way toward the exit of the
grease hole where she’d agreed to meet Clindon. She hadn’t noticed it on the
way in, distracted by the water stained ceiling, dingy carpeting, and ‘70s era
décor, but the place posted a sanitation rating of only eighty. The revelation
made her stomach churn.
    “Eunice?” Blake asked
as if he was unsure whether or not it was her who’d answered.
    His silky voice put her
into an instant state of tranquility. “ Oui .”
    “Again with the French.
You do know I don’t speak French, right?”
    Switching from French
back to English, she said, “I said hello, Mr. Farrington and yes. Hold on one
second.” She stopped at the counter and left forty dollars to cover their meal,
plus tip, then power walked away from the establishment. Returning to the call,
she said, “Perfect timing. You’ve just saved me from the date from hell. Correction,
a date in hell would have been better. I owe you.” She looked over her shoulder
to make sure the leprechaun wasn’t in pursuit.
    “That’s good to know,” Blake
said, “you owing me.”
    Connotation danced in
his words, but Eunice ignored it. “I am going straight to hell.” She slid
behind the steering wheel, then checked her rearview mirror. “He thinks I’m
taking a call. I’m actually in my car about to burn rubber out of here.”
    “You left your date in
the restaurant thinking you’ll be returning?”
    Laughter danced over
the line. Blake was the only man she knew who could make the joyous noise sound
so appealing. She briefly covered her face with her hand. “I know it’s wrong.”
    “That is cold. Even by
my standards,” he said.
    “You had to be there to
understand. I’ll pray for forgiveness tonight.”
    Blake laughed again. The
sound rippled through her like a pleasing vibration.
    “Sooo, Mr. Farrington,”
she said, using unnecessary formality, “you typically call me for two reasons. There
is trouble or about to be trouble. Which is it?”
    “Neither. Everything is
fine. But I do have a...proposition of sorts for you.”
    What was he proposing?
Who was she kidding? She didn’t care what he was proposing—have his babies, be
his love slave—he had her undivided attention. “A proposition?”
    He went silent, as if
considering his next string of words, or contemplating whether or not he should
say whatever he needed to say over the phone. Finally he started to speak
again.
    “Come to see me in my
office first thing in the AM before the meeting.”
    “First thing in the AM? Uh-oh . There’s a problem.”
    “Trust me. Everything
is fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Eunice.”
    Only if they’re
filled with images of you . “O—” The line clicked. “—kay.” She hated when
Blake ended a call so abruptly. Couldn’t he have simply waited until she’d
gotten into the office in the morning? Had he really needed to call her with
such a cryptic chat? The only thing that’d been accomplished by their
conversation…stirring her curiosity.
    She sighed.