Seeking Single Male Read Free Page A

be rid of Vile Vicki, but I can't afford to
    keep paying the entire rent much longer." Not and cover the lease on the coffee shop space, and the short-term note for new
    equipment, and the payments for the additional cash registers, refrigerator and pastry case.
    "If you need a loan—"
    Lana cut off her friend with a look. "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks." If she could squeak by for another year, she'd be
    able to pocket some of the profits instead of sinking all the money back into the business.
    Alex relented with a nod. "Any responses from your roommate ads?"
    They claimed a small square table painted with a redand-black gameboard. Lana sat back in a padded chair and shook her
    head. "A couple dozen oddballs I wouldn't even consider."
    "Oh, that's rich—you calling someone an oddball."
    Lana pulled a face, then reached behind her to retrieve the magazine that lay discarded on a table. "I let Annette talk me into
    placing an ad, so maybe I'll hear something before Christmas, although it's a lousy time of the year to be looking for a
    roommate."
    Alex leaned forward when Lana pointed out her ad:
    Lexington, KY: SF seeking roommate, F or GM, nonsmoker, preferably sane and willing to share kitchen
    duties.
    "GM?" her friend asked.
    "Gay male," Lana said matter-of-factly. "I don't want some straight guy getting the wrong idea about the sleeping
    arrangements."
    "Oh, I don't know," Alex teased, tapping her finger on the singles ads on the next page. "Maybe you should've placed a
    combination ad and killed two birds with one stone."
    "Oh, please. Don't start."
    "You were the one hounding me to get a man before I met Jack."
    "That was before I bought the coffee shop. Now I don't have time for scratch-off lottery tickets, much less a man."
    "Are the ads national?"
    "Yep."
    "Well, you should be able to find a roommate over the entire country," Alex agreed, grinning over the brim of her cup.
    Lana frowned. "Are you saying that I'm too picky?"
    "Absolutely."
    "Well, do you blame me, after living with that witch for so long?"
    Alex blew onto the surface of her drink. "I'm just wondering how much of the animosity for your former roommate had to do
    with the fact that she went out with the only man you ever cared about."
    Ignoring the flash of pain that the memory of Bill Friar conjured up, Lana wagged her finger. " Thought I cared about. Bill
    Friar is a low-life cheat who was threatened by a woman smarter than he is." She'd trusted him, the cad. Lately she'd been
    pondering whether the problem was that she was too trusting of the people she cared about, or perversely drawn to
    untrustworthy people—excluding Alex, of course.
    "Lana, you're smarter than anyone I know. Maybe you should start accepting invitations to those Mensa meetings to find a
    date."
    "What? Holy hallucinogen, Alex, you know the only reason I maintain my membership in that uppity organization is for the
    insurance."
    "Afraid of hooking up with a thinking man?"
    She frowned at her friend. "No. I'd love to find a man with a big brain. But most eggheads are just that—eggheads. No life,
    no passion. Now, finding a man with a big brain and a big—"
    The phone rang, cutting off her tirade, and spurring Alex's laughter. Lana sprang for the receiver. "Best Cuppa Joe, this is
    Lana. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and a Cheery Kwanza."
    "Lana, this is Marshall Ballou."
    Of Ballou's Antique Clothing Boutique at the end of the block. "Hey, Marsh. What's up?"
    "I just picked up my mail. Did you know there's a rezoning meeting this Friday?"
    Black dread ballooned in her stomach—so the rumor was true. "I hadn't heard yet, but of course I'll be there."
    "I was hoping you'd say that, hon, because I was just talking to Vic and Paige and Maxie, and we'd like for you to be our
    spokeswoman."
    She lifted her eyebrows. "Me?"
    "What do you say?"
    "I say you must be desperate."
    "Quite the contrary, my dear, you're perfect. And we need you. The company that owns the property