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Rave reviews for New York Times bestselling author
SUSAN MALLERY
Hot on Her Heels
“[T]his glimpse into glitzy Texas high society
and the dark underbelly of business is a thoroughly enjoyable read.”
—Publishers Weekly
Straight from the Hip
“One of the Top 10 Romance Novels of 2009!”
—Booklist
Lip Service
“Mallery breathes real life into these former
lovers hoping for a second chance.”
—RT Book Reviews
Under Her Skin
“Bestseller Mallery’s Lone Star Sisters series
opener draws in readers with intriguing characters and a precisely assembled plot.”
—Publishers Weekly
Sweet Spot
“I strongly recommend Sweet Spot, especially to readers who like their family melodramas spiked with lots of laughter and hot romance.”
—The Romance Reader
Sweet Talk
“Sweet Talk is one sweet read! Susan Mallery delivers a deliciously satisfying first book in her new wonderfully written Bakery Sisters trilogy.”
—The Romance Readers Connection (41/2 stars)
Someone Like You
Susan Mallery
Other Books By
Also available from
SUSAN MALLERY
and HQN Books
Finding Perfect
Almost Perfect
Chasing Perfect
Hot on Her Heels
Straight from the Hip
Lip Service
Under Her Skin
Sweet Trouble
Sweet Spot
Sweet Talk
Tempting
Sizzling
Irresistible
Delicious
Falling for Gracie
And look for more of Susan Mallery’s fantastic stories set in Fool’s Gold, coming in 2011!
To Jenel, for making this the best
it could be.
Chapter One
“I LOOK LIKE A FREAK,” Shelley said as she plopped down in the chair and covered her face with her hands. “I’ll have to move under the cover of darkness so I don’t frighten small children.”
Jill Strathern sat down next to her assistant and patted her back. “You’re not a freak.”
“You’re right.” Shelley raised her head and sniffed. “Being a freak would be an improvement.” She gave a strangled sob.
“This is all fixable,” Jill reminded her. “You’re not scarred for life.”
“My psyche is.”
“I think you’ll recover.”
In fact, Jill was sure of it. Shelley had left work the previous evening excited about her appointment at a new and trendy salon. She’d gone in expecting some subtle highlights and a few layers. She’d left with a botched body perm, orange brassy color and a cut that could only be described as…unfortunate.
“You know what? I have a great idea.” Jill stood and walked around her desk where she flipped through her electronic Rolodex. “I know exactly who can fix this for you.”
Shelley looked up. “Who?”
“Anton.”
Shelley sucked in a breath and for the first time that morning, hope filled her swollen eyes. “Anton? You know him?”
Anton, like Madonna, was famous enough not to need a last name. Two-tone highlights and a styling cost as much as a small imported car, but the rich and famous swore by his magic fingers.
“I’m his lawyer,” Jill said with a grin. “Now let me call him and explain we have a hair emergency. I’m sure he can take care of everything.”
Fifteen minutes later, Shelley had an appointment for early that afternoon. Jill promised to let her make up the time by coming in early for the next couple of days.
“You’re the best,” Shelley said as she walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. “If you ever need me to do anything, let me know. I’m serious. A kidney. Have your baby, whatever.”
“Maybe you could look over the brief I left on your desk,” Jill told her with a laugh. “It’s due first thing in the morning.”
“Absolutely. Right this second. Thanks.”
Jill chuckled as she turned back to her computer. If only all of life’s problems could be solved so easily.
Two hours later, she looked up from her research. Coffee, she decided. A nice, little jump start to keep her brain going. She stood and headed for the centrally located lunchroom where jumbo carafes full of liquid energy waited.
On her way back, she detoured around to the other side of the offices where her husband, also a third-year associate, had his office. They’d been working so many hours the past few weeks, they’d barely seen each other. Her calendar was free. If Lyle’s was, too, maybe they could grab lunch together.
His assistant was gone and his door closed. Jill knocked lightly once, then pushed inside. She moved quietly, not wanting to interrupt if he was on the phone.
He was busy, all right, but not with a call. Jill stopped in the center of the room. Breath left her body as the mug of coffee fell to the carpeted floor. She didn’t remember letting go, but she felt the hot liquid splash onto her legs.
Her husband of three years, the man she lived with, worked with and cooked for, stood beside his credenza. His jacket was over his chair, his pants around his ankles and he was busily banging his assistant. So busy, in fact, he hadn’t noticed Jill’s entrance.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” Lyle breathed. “Just like