Blindfold: The Complete Series Box Set Read Free Page A

organized. She hadn't requested any off-hours availability or included a list of crazy demands. It really sounded like a dream job.
    But I had a sinking feeling I was about to endure the same sort of treatment I’d received from the ditzy dog owner.
    The door swung open and I flashed the suit-clad gentleman my best smile. He was wearing a suit that probably cost more than two months' rent and looked to be in his mid to late fifties.
    “Hello. I’m Toni—”
    A woman's voice interrupted me.
    “Please tell me that’s her, Doug! I can’t figure out this damn newsletter!” She sounded nearly frantic, but not obnoxious.
    The suited man gave me a pained look. “Are you with Exclusive ?”
    “I am.”
    A moment later, a tall, curvy woman came bursting out from somewhere behind him. She had stylish black curls, large olive green eyes, porcelain skin, and an elegant, beautiful face. Absolutely gorgeous.
    “In, now,” she said as she reached around the man and grabbed my wrist. I stared at her, shocked into silence as she pulled me into the house. “Thank God you're here. If I don’t get this straightened out, I’m doomed.”
    Once I was inside, she let my hand go and turned to beam at the man in the black suit. “You can shut the door now, Doug,” she said, giving him the sweetest genuine smile I'd ever seen. “My new assistant and I have a lot of work to do.”
    My head was spinning. I didn't think I’d ever seen anybody smile that brilliantly and mean it. When she turned that megawatt smile on me, I felt almost a little dazzled. Heaven help any man who found themselves in her sights.
    “Ma'am – uh, I mean, Miss?”
    “Call me Isadora, please. Just as Doug here. I don't like the whole 'Miss' thing.”
    “All right.” I nodded, starting to find my footing. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”
    Her smile turned a little sheepish and she bit her lower lip. “I have to admit, Toni…it is Toni, right? I’m hopeless. I thought I could figure out this whole newsletter thing, but…” She spread her hands out wide and shrugged, her expression making her look less like a beautiful young woman and more like a wide-eyed, innocent child.
    “You want a newsletter.”
    “No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want it. I need it. I told the committee I could do it. I’m good on computers, and I didn’t think it would be that hard.”
    Despite myself, I was starting to like her. Sure, I couldn't imagine what was so difficult about making a newsletter, but she didn't seem like she was above it. Just clueless.
    “So what’s the newsletter for?” I asked with a smile.
    “Rich assholes.”
    She delivered the answer without blinking an eye.
    Behind me, Doug, in his perfect black suit, smothered a laugh and pretended it was a cough before hurrying away.
    “You know what?” I gave her my own version of a brilliant smile. “I think we should start from the top.”
     
    ***
    She’d led me into a large, airy sitting room.
    There was no way I could call it a living room. It was too elegant, too posh, for that. The walls were a pale, soft yellow with the trim painted a gleaming white. In the middle of the room stood a low, round table that gleamed like gold. In the precise middle of that table, there was a vase of the most beautiful white roses I’d ever seen in my life, each petal perfection.
    I'd always had a weakness for white roses.
    There were any number of small chairs and couches scattered throughout the large, airy room, but Isadora had guided me to a round, fat chair, practically the size of a small pond, and big enough for both of us. Probably two more. A fifth if we wanted to snuggle.
    That had been two hours ago and I was still sitting in that chair, comparing the list she’d given me with the newsletter I was compiling. The last one had indeed been for rich assholes. Even I'd recognized those names.
    This one seemed to be geared toward the opposite. Wary single moms loathe to accept anything