Karen Kendall - Open Invitation?

“You betcha.” He recited the number, and Lilia immediately typed it straight into her computer, where she’d already opened up a file with his name on it. “Mr. Granger? Just for our records, how is it that you know Mrs. Shane?”

“My mother knows her. Some Paris fashion show they both attend? Or some charity event? The kind where you pay five thousand for a plate of rubber veal, soaked in champagne and topped with escargot? The type of thing where everybody there gets to show off their flashy jewels and plastic surgeon’s miracles, while feeling smug and righteous ’cuz every sip of their drink costs a hundred bucks.”

The man has a chip on his shoulder, that much is certain. Poor guy. It sounds like he really doesn’t fit in with his own family. She wondered why he was so different.

Lilia recaptured her thoughts and pressed her lips together, along with her silk hosiery-clad knees. She found something about this man’s Texas-accented voice very…carnal.

Which was utterly ridiculous, since she could barely understand that redneck drawl of his. Not to mention the fact that just during their brief conversation so far, he’d butchered the basics of Grammar 101 as she knew it. Still, his voice poured over her like sexual syrup—and she couldn’t help liking him.

“Thank you, Mr. Granger,” Lilia said. “I look forward to meeting you tomorrow. Will you confirm with me when you find a flight?”

“You betcha.”

Lilia smiled. “Goodbye, Mr. Granger.”

“Catch ya later, Miz London.”

She sat at her desk reflecting for a moment: was it realistic to think she could break his slang speech patterns or change his accent in two weeks? Probably not.

She could dress him and teach him basic table manners, dance steps and polite conversation. She could explain some of the peculiarities of the English language. But as for the rest, no.

She could suggest ways of capitalizing on his Texas heritage and demeanor. She could train him to be a charming eccentric: good-humored about his differences. If he was at all good-looking she’d show him how to kiss a lady’s hand and compliment her without smarm. The British women would swoon.

However, she was undoubtedly reading too much into that voice. Dan Granger might be gangly, have a prominent Adam’s apple and pizzalike skin for all she knew. She’d just have to wait and find out.

Twenty-four thousand dollars for two weeks of work, though! Lilia decided that she didn’t care what Dan Granger looked like. She stood up and pirouetted into the reception area. “Shan? Jane? I’m bringing in the big bucks!”

Shannon stuck her blond head out of her office. True to form, she wore tight, black, boot-cut slacks and an electric-blue leather jacket. “Huh? What’s this about big bucks?”

“This Texas guy is going to pay us twenty-four thousand dollars to turn him into Pierce Brosnan in two weeks.”

Jane stuck her dark, curly head out of her own office. “You’re kidding!”

Lil smiled at Jane. She could finally pay her back for bringing her into the business; identifying that she had a unique set of skills that were in demand in the marketplace. Jane had rescued her from a dead-end job as a receptionist in a law firm, and Lil still couldn’t believe she was now a professional and a partner in Finesse.

“How raw is the material, Professor Higgins?” Shannon asked, wryly.

Lil’s lips twitched and she met their gazes with a steady, even one. “Well…”

“Uh, oh,” said Jane.

“I wish you luck,” Shannon said.

“Thank you. I think I’ll need it, judging by how he handles himself on the phone.”

Lilia preferred to work with women. They were easier to mold and they did their homework. Most of the male clients she had were sent by their employers and didn’t take etiquette too seriously as a means to move forward in their careers. A mistake, to Lil’s thinking.

“So why is this guy paying you so much money?” Jane asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Because I’m having to clear my schedule and cancel my vacation in order to complete his transformation in two weeks. His sister is marrying into British aristocracy, and he doesn’t want to embarrass her with his crass, crude ways. Incidentally, Shan, we were recommended to him through your mother. She knows his mother from either charity events or fashion week.”

“Small world. Hey, I guess that means I get a kick-back, though, Lil. You can give me a shopping spree at Neiman Marcus.” Shannon winked.

“I think not,” Lil told her. “Good try, though. You’ll have to settle for a PR firm instead.”

“Done!” announced Jane.

Shannon frowned. “You’re so cruel.” She wandered into the small kitchenette they all shared. “Hey! Who ate all the crème doughnuts?”

Jane’s face was a study in innocence.

“Jane!”

“Who, me?” Then she gave up the pretence. “You ate them all last time!”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should descend to my level…”

Jane laughed. Then she turned back to Lilia. “I can’t believe you’re giving up your vacation in San Francisco for this guy. But thank you.”

“It’s not a sum I think we should turn down, with the business being so new and all. And besides, he offered to pay for my rescheduled vacation—as a bonus, if he’s pleased with my work.”

Jane’s jaw dropped. “This guy must be either too loaded to care, or truly desperate. He’s probably a mess. Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Lilia thought about the farks. About the dancin’ and crap. And about the penguin suit. She was probably in for a rough time of it.

Was she up to the challenge? “Yes.”

Well, it wasn’t as if she had a social life lately, since breaking up with her boyfriend of two years after he’d proposed.

She had considered marrying Li Wong, a terribly sweet Chinese man. But the awful truth was more than Shannon’s summary of things: that Li’s wong was not so long.

He’d wanted Lil to give him a full-body massage every night—without ever returning the favor—learn Cantonese and move to Beijing as his obedient wife.

Lil had very respectfully declined, whereupon Li Wong had informed her that she was ignorant of the great honor he had conferred upon her by even considering a mixed-breed wife. Half American and half Vietnamese? Why, he exclaimed, she wasn’t fit to scrub his floors.

That was the moment at which Lilia agreed with his highness: he should leave her disgraceful hovel immediately and never return. So much for Li’s beautiful manners and courteous demeanor. Jerk!

She felt a late-afternoon yawn coming on, and delicately covered her mouth with her hand. She’d been through tougher things than this; most recently the loss of her grandmother, who’d raised her. “I’m not afraid of cowboys, Jane. I can handle Dan Granger.”

A RED-BLOODED AMERICAN guy does not belong in some friggin’ charm school.

Dan wiped the sweat from his eyes, neck and naked chest. He stood in faded Wranglers and beat-up ropers at his kitchen sink in Amarillo, Texas, feeling pissed off and reflecting that time ran faster than the water from his faucet.

Lilia London’s voice had been like cool water, pouring down the telephone lines. Too bad he hadn’t been able to feel it on the back of his neck. Dan grabbed an old hand towel and soaked it under the tap. He wrung it out and pressed it to his face, wiping away some of the day’s grime.

Claire can’t possibly be getting married. Wasn’t his little half sister still a ten-year-old tomboy?

Through the window over the sink, Dan watched two bay quarter horses nip at each other playfully and then swat flies from their flanks with their long black tails.