the writer he’d just been discussing with his aunt—the one whose articles on “hotties” were selling magazines. The last thing he wanted was to print any more of her work. He glanced up at Esme. “Why don’t you arrange for me to speak with her?”
“I called her right after our staff meeting. She’s waiting outside,” she said as she moved toward the door.
It was the legs that Zach recognized first when the woman stepped into his office. Backlit by the lights from the hall, he could have sworn that they went right up to her waist.
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