Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 06 Read Free

I won’t be home this weekend. Mr. Fleecum has simply ruined the next month of my life.”
    “Yes, Miss Gebhearn. There’s a Kyle Simmons on the line to speak to you. Shall I put him through?”
    “I cannot take any calls the rest of the day. Mr. Fleecum’s notes are indecipherable, and the contest is next month. I suppose I’d better run down my liaison at the KoKo-Nut office and—”
    “Mr. Simmons is from that office,” Meredith interrupted without inflection. “He says he’s from promotion.”
    “Then put him through,” Geri said crossly, “and don’t forget to cancel everything.” She drummed her fingers on the desk while various clicks and buzzes came through the line, mentally cursing Mr. Fleecum for his treachery.
    “Miss Gebhearn?” said a male voice with no hint of upper-class nasality. “This is Kyle Simmons at KoKo-Nut. I suppose I’m the … well, just yesterday I was assigned to this contest thing. I was given your name and told to …” His shrugs and grimaces were almost audible; his gulps were. She was not in the mood for charity. “I’m very busy, Mr. Simmons. What is your point?”
    “We’re supposed to coordinate the contest. I mean, your marketing firm is in charge, but I’m representing our company and sort of overseeing things.” He cleared his throat unhappily. “I’ll present the prize at the end.”
    Geri shuffled through the stack of papers. “According to what’s here, the president of KoKo-Nut is going to be doing that very chore. It’s so very kind of you to offer, Mr. Simmons, but we’ll just pass on that. The media will respond so much better to …” An articulate adult, she concluded to herself.
    “That would be my father, and last night he suddenly announced he had to take a business trip. I’m afraid you’re sort of stuck with me.”
    “Then I guess I am, Mr. Simmons,” Geri said, attempting to insert a note of enthusiasm and failing miserably. “My boss just gave me the account this morning, and I’m still trying to sort it out. Why don’t I give you a call later in the week and we can set up a meeting to review the initial plans?”
    There was a long silence, during which she could hear him breathing over the background clatter of the city. “I was … I was thinking we could do it sooner than that,” he said.
    “Fine, Mr. Simmons, we’ll schedule it for”—she consulted her calendar—“the day after tomorrow, say tennish?”
    “I’m in the lobby of your building.”
    It was a good thing the secretary could not see Geri’s expression expression, which was not at all appropriate for a Vassar graduate from a very good family whose mother, at that precise moment, was mailing embossed invitations to a gala for Opera Relief.
    “How very clever of you, Mr. Simmons. Please come right up and we’ll get started immediately.” She replaced the receiver and began to flip through the pages in the folder, wishing she’d done so earlier instead of obsessing over Scotty and the slut. Now her eyes were pink, and she would be facing the client with unsightly splotches on her cheeks and hair that was days overdue for a trim.
    When the door opened, she finished the page before looking up with a coolly professional smile. It faltered as she took in Kyle Simmons, the scion of Krazy KoKo-Nut, Incorporated, but her years of cotillion training served her well.
    “Please sit down,” she murmured, gesturing at the chair across from her desk. “Would you care for coffee?”
    Kyle Simmons hesitated in the doorway. He was in his late twenties, but he had less poise (and more gawkiness) than a junior high school boy who had never dared glance below a girl’s collar. His face was small and angular, with a pointy chin and recessed eyes that were blinking as if he were in a sandstorm. Thin dark hair was slicked down like a glittery skullcap. His overcoat was rumpled, and his tie quite the wrong color for his shirt. On the other hand, Geri instinctively noted,