Secrets of the Apple Read Free

that was all, just tired, and needing a couple of antacid. He’d recover his equanimity once he’d completed the current project.
    The maid remained silent, a look of blank amazement on her face. He’d been very harsh, maybe scared her. He should have remembered to lock from the inside and put out the “Do Not Disturb” sign, so yes, perhaps he bore part of the blame. He composed his face, tried to give her a benevolent look, allowing her the chance to exit with dignity intact. But she didn’t move. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.
    At last she drew herself up to a dignified four-feet-nine. “It after ten, sir. When you want us come back?”
    “Ten?” Mouth agape, he looked around—blackout curtains pulled across every window. He checked his wrist where his watch should have—
    Oh. No.
    Skimpy pink silk boxers with purple lipstick kisses, ridden up, slumber-twisted and tucked askew to resemble women’s panties, extra small. Without thinking, he stomped his foot and wiggled his hips, hoping they’d straighten out, no such luck.
    When he dropped the woman who’d purchased said boxers, she’d cursed him with all the venom of her soul, but he’d paid no attention, forgetting the gift immediately after shoving it to the back of a drawer. Thirty-six hours ago he happened upon them in a rush in the dark, consciously thinking, I’ve got to get rid of these. But most of his respectable pairs were already packed or sent ahead to São Paulo.
    Maybe it was time to start believing in curses.
    Instinctively he picked up the closest items to cover himself, a crystal candy dish and the remote. He juggled them for a moment, unable to determine the best configuration. “I’ll be out shortly,” he said stiffly.
    “Thank you, sir.” She whipped off the “Do Not Disturb” sign, hanging it on the outside doorknob as she shut the door. He heard the electronic lock click and her rapid, retreating footsteps.
    Have to change hotels, he thought, tearing off the boxers and pitching them into the trash. Better to have been caught naked outright. Even the most sculpted abs could never compete with scanty pink man panties.
    With the residual panic of a man still too exhausted to be fully calm, he picked up his cell phone and scrolled for the office number. The chipper receptionist transferred him to Pink.
    “I’ve been unavoidably delayed,” he said.
    “I see that.” He could hear the teacher smile in her voice.
    “I’ll be in shortly for my 11:00 a.m. with Melo executives and the audit committee. I haven’t finished reviewing the proposed adjustments or preliminary internal control findings. It’s going to be close. Could you lay out everything so I can get directly to work?”
    “It’s already finished,” she said.
    He paused, thinking she must mean “finished laying it out.” Surely she couldn’t be capable—
    “You’re ready for your meeting,” she said. “I’ve summarized the findings and gotten the management responses from Melo’s accounting department already.”
    An unidentifiable quality in her tone worried him unreasonably—smugness, perhaps, or some sort of secret knowledge, as though she could see him through the phone. Instinctively he pulled a pillow in front of himself.
    “Thank you,” he said uncertainly. “I’ll be in as soon as I can.” He thumbed his phone to end the call, absolutely positive she’d never been caught in her underwear. Fifteen minutes later, showered and immaculate, he paused to fish the offending boxers out of the wastebasket and shoved them into his pocket. In the parking garage he furtively crammed them into the first public trash he saw. No point exposing the evidence.

Chapter Two
    “G ood morning, Pink.” He strode into the office smiling mechanically, oblivious to what he’d said or to the perplexed expression on her face. Already homing in on his computer, he dropped carelessly into the bizarre chair, his legs splitting east and west as he