Jill Monroe

Never Naughty Enough


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in her body jump.

      They weren’t Wagner.

      Annabelle shook her head. “I just can’t believe I left the office early for this.”

      Aline formed between Katie’s eyebrows. “I’ll have you know, leaving at five-thirty is not early for most people. Especially on a Thursday night.”

      “What’s the big deal about Thursday?”

      Katie rolled her eyes. “Pre-weekend party. You’d think you’d never been to college at all.”

      “I still have to go in early tomorrow. We’re working on a big project.” She searched for a coaster to set her drink. “In fact, I had a hard day at the office and I need to get some sleep. Thanks for inviting me, but I’m going to head on home.”

      “Mr. Monochrome working you all hours of the day and night?” Katie stomped her foot, sending her ankle bracelet jangling. “How is everything in the— sheesh, what is it he does?”

      “Solar cells. And it’s going extremely well. By replacing the silicone conductors currently used in the photovoltaic—”

      Katie held up a hand. “Wait, sorry. Forget I asked. I’m not up to a conversation like the ‘how batteries really work’ discussion we had last week. I wasn’t able to get nickel-metal hydride out of my head for several days.”

      Annabelle stood taller, ready to defend Wagner. “It won’t be long before his ideas revolutionize the way we power up our laptops and heat our homes. Besides, stop calling him Mr. Monochrome. That look happens to be very stylish and there’s a lot to be said about understatement.”

      “Yes, but he wore it before that millionaire show made it popular. And that trend’s long gone.”

      Annabelle turned toward the door, drink in hand. “I’m leaving. What kind of place doesn’t have coasters?”

      Katie waved her hand. “Forget I said anything about Mr. Color Deficient. You need to think of someone other than him and this party is the place to do it.”

      “We’ve been through this before.”

      “I know and I’ll shut up. I just want you to stop wasting your time on him and think about meeting someone new. You’ve been working for him, what, four years? Honey, I know it’s hard to hear and it’s hard for me to say, but the guy is never going to notice you. He’s too involved in his company and proving that he’s not his father.”

      Annabelle shook her head. “It is not hard for you to say that, because you say it all the time. I’m no longer interested in Wagner Achrom. I’m giving him up, but I’m staying because he pays well. Very well. Don’t forget he gave me a job when I had more bills than prospects. I owe him a lot. So stop giving me lectures.”

      “Uh-huh, right.” Katie nodded toward the throng of men again. “Tell you what, we’ll go over there and you say just one sentence and then we’ll leave. No more hard time.”

      Katie might be just this side of wild, but she also had an enticing smile. The kind that could convince Annabelle that clandestinely taping an Out of Order sign on the baseball coach’s hat was a good idea, or the kind that cheered her up after Hailey Griffin stole the heart of the cute guy in geometry.

      Annabelle lifted an eyebrow. “Promise?”

      “Promise. But your sentence can’t be ‘goodbye.’ Besides, we’re here to have a good time. And to celebrate you finally getting your pigskin.”

      “That’s lambskin.”

      “We’ll worry about that later.” With a wink and a flick of her red hair, pink highlights flashing, Katie looped her arm through Annabelle’s and sashayed through the various clusters of people all trying to have a good time.

      “Hi, Katie, who’s your friend?”

      That was about as subtle as a high-school sophomore. Annabelle tried to hide her cringe. He obviously didn’t remember, but she’d met Jeff before. His clothes reminded her of the Web sites he designed. All flash, no substance. Katie should know by now she’d never be attracted to that type of guy.

      “Hi, Jeff, this is Annabelle.” Katie gave her a delicate push and she nearly stumbled into his shoulder.

      He caught her, his hand lingering on her elbow. “Hiya, Annie. What do you do?”

      Get irritated when people call me Annie. This guy would wear his ballcap backward. She just knew it. And what happened to the guys who just talked to a woman’s boobs? Jeff checked her out all right, but in a way that suggested he was mentally calculating the cost of her shoes, clothes and jewelry. Annabelle cleared her throat. “I’m an administrative assistant.”

      His five-hundred-watt smile dimmed. An assistant probably didn’t fit into his success plan. “Nice to meet you. Mike here was just telling us he’s learning hypnosis.”

      Annabelle couldn’t help it—she laughed.

      Mike straightened and turned to her. Now, this one did wear his ballcap backward. A sure sign he hadn’t grown up and left his college days behind. “You don’t believe in hypnosis?”

      “Nope.” There. She’d said something. Now they could leave.

      Katie shook her head. “No subject, no predicate, no leaving,” she whispered.

      Unfortunately, from the expectant faces surrounding her, they also expected more conversation.

      “You really don’t believe in hypnosis?” Jeff asked.

      “Well, I accept the power of suggestion, but as far as going under and changing your personality, I don’t think that could happen.”

      Memories of her father’s ugly cons suddenly crushed that last bit of hope that she might actually have a nice time at this party. Her father had been a pro with the hypnosis scam. He’d promised them a cure through hypnosis. Smoking, overeating, nail-biting, whatever. While there were plenty of well-meaning trained professionals in the world who could aid someone with strategic hypnotic suggestion, her father was neither trained nor well-meaning. With his charm and charisma people readily opened their checkbooks. She tamped down the familiar surge of guilt she felt every time she remembered one of her father’s scams.

      Jeff laughed. “Great. Then you won’t mind being a volunteer. Mike was just looking for a victim.”

      Annabelle whipped her head toward Jeff. “What?”

      “I can’t back away from that kind of challenge,” Mike said.

      Annabelle reached for a lock of hair and twisted it around her finger. Twisting—a return of a bad habit. Normally, she wore her hair up in a tidy and simple bun, but Katie had insisted Annabelle’s brown locks had to “cascade” down her back. She hated how unruly her curls must appear.

      “You ready?” Mike asked, draping an arm around her shoulders.

      Her hair issues appeared not to daunt Mike; he had a point to make. After spouting off, she couldn’t very well say no now. It would be fun to prove them wrong. Besides, what could letting him try to put her under hurt? It wouldn’t work and Katie would owe her. Big time. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed. “Lead the way.”

      She’d learned all the cons, scams and sleights of hand at the knee of a pro—her dad. Mike’s brand of backroom hypnosis didn’t stand a chance.

      Mike laughed, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Heather, can we use your old roommate’s room?”

      Annabelle winced as all eyes in the room turned her way.

      “No one’s in the back bedroom. We can have a little privacy there,” Mike told her.

      Heather raised one arched eyebrow. “What are you going to do back there?”

      “Nothing wicked,” he assured. “A challenge. Annabelle