Package Deal Read Free Page B

crisp laundered shirts. Men’s shirts!
    “Oh, no,” she whimpered. “This can’t be happening. This was the only beige bag on the belt.” In a gesture of hopelessness, she flopped backward onto the bed. “Unbelievable!”
    She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, resorting to denial, but finally jumped up and rummaged through the strange items in search of something, anything familiar. Again, she found the same—men’s clothing and enough hardbound manuals to fill a library shelf.
    “Well, that explains the ridiculous weight of the suitcase last night,” she grumbled, feeling like an idiot.
    She collapsed back onto the bed again, her spirit sagging with the old bedsprings, her thoughts barely surfacing through the emotions swirling around in her mind.
    “What am I going to do now?”
    Her mind switched to panic mode. Timing couldn’t have been worse. Her appointment with Editor Willis was scheduled for nine thirty. She checked her watch for the time. It was already eight fifteen.
    “Slit my wrists!” she cried aloud then quickly struggled to center herself. She had to stay calm .
    “Okay, stay cool.” She talked to herself. “I’ll call the newspaper office and explain my predicament. Surely they’ll understand. Ted Willis isn’t going to fire me on my first day…is he?”
    Her stomach turned upside down, and she buried her face in a pillow. “Why me?” She considered her options. “I’ll call the airport. Maybe they found my bag.”
    Dragging herself from the bed, she searched the cottage until she found a phone book, flipped through the pages, found the number, and dialed. When the agent answered, she frantically explained the problem and was transferred twice before at last being told by a customer service representative that a gentleman with her bag had already phoned and left his number.
    After a brief reprimand for failing to identify her baggage claim tag, the customer service agent gave her the man’s telephone number. She scribbled it on the notepad and hung up. Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number. Four, five rings and still no answer. Her hopes flagged. Her calm frayed. “Please, someone answer!” Seven, eight rings before a man answered.
    Exhaling, she said, “Hi, my name is Kelly Pearson. The airport gave me your number. I flew in late last night and somehow ended up with the wrong bag, your bag. Therefore, I assume you have mine, a beige upright with wheels.”
    A short, seductive laugh winged over the wires, and Kelly unconsciously moved the phone away from her ear.
    “Yeah, I’ve acquired some feminine things overnight. They’re probably yours, because they sure aren’t mine.”
      “May I meet you somewhere, Mr.—”
    “Steve McCarthy. How about lunch and a luggage swap?”
    “I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for lunch, so a luggage swap will have to do.” A picture of him rummaging through her underwear filled Kelly’s head.
    It had never been difficult for Kelly to draw a man’s attention and she knew it. She was young and pretty enough, but she neither desired their attention, nor encouraged it. Steve McCarthy might be dying of curiosity this morning, but Kelly was in no mood to play show and tell.
    “Look, Mr. McCarthy,” she said, before he could reply. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’ve got a nine-thirty appointment I can’t miss. I need my bag immediately.”
    McCarthy sighed. “All right, Ms. Pearson, but it’s already eight twenty, so if I might suggest, why don’t you try to reschedule your appointment for ten thirty or eleven, because try as I may to please a damsel in distress, there’s no way I can get your suitcase to you in time for that nine thirty appointment. Unless, of course, I simply don’t dress.”
    Despite being alone, she blushed. I deserved that . She had irritated him with her pushiness, failing to consider his inconvenience. “Of course, you’re right.” After all, she had his luggage,