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Word from the author:
REEL HIM IN
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
TORONTO ONTARIO CANADA
COPYRIGHT BY LILLIAN LEE
All rights reserved.
No part of this book can be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For information address: Scarlet Leaf Publishing House:
The first time Lora Lee laid eyes on him, she was splayed on the pavement in front of her office.
Well, before that, she’d actually run into him and spilled her entire container with soup all over him. It was a fine soup she’d craved so much since she smelled it in the cafeteria. One of her colleagues had bought that soup from a take-out place and Lora Lee just had to have one too after inhaling the aroma of that darn soup earlier that day. Damn, she’d had to walk almost ten blocks to buy it and now she’d lost it.
Anyway, here she was, on her back, her skirt riding high up her legs so everyone could have a peek at her thighs, showing signs of cellulite and, why not, at her panties. Just her rotten luck!
It wasn’t the proudest moment of her life, to be sure, not that she’d had too many before that. And that especially because the panties in question were not the most enticing panties in her wardrobe.
Huh, like she’d had something like that! No, her panties were all cotton and most of them were the kind that would ride up her belly.
The ones she was wearing that fatal day were just some cotton panties with little kittens on them… all right, she’d bought them from the kids’ section of a department store. There was nothing wrong with that. She was sure a lot of people bought their clothes from there if they were on the small side. And she was. Small that is. Only 5”1.
That stunted height had crushed her dreams of becoming a model. The height… and later on, her thighs… and her breasts…
Who was she kidding? Lora Lee had to be honest: she wasn’t so small everywhere. There were parts of her that were a bit too round for her taste but she’d learnt to live with that as she’d learnt to live with a lot of other disillusions. Life had spooned her a lot of those.
Anyway, she’d better get back to the problem at hand. So, here she was, sprawled on the pavement, blinking hard and trying to catch her breath… for a moment there, she’d had the feeling that not an ounce of air would reach her lungs again.
It’d been a bad fall. That guy was like a granite wall, damn it! No wonder! He was big enough to play quarterback in a pro football team, which he probably had done, a few years back. He had to be around forty or maybe more. Men would show their age later in life and she could never guess how old a guy was, but she had the impression that this one was around her age. Nevertheless, he was quite good-looking. Men had the talent to get more handsome while they grew older.
Worse yet, he looked at her as if she’d been a poor fly caught in the spider’s web, and he found that fly on the disgusting side.
The guy took his time and meticulously cleaned the soup that had left a huge spot on his black t-shirt – as if anybody could see it! Let’s be realistic. The t-shirt was black and stains would vanish in the background! No one would be the wiser that her precious soup had landed on his t-shirt.
Only after finishing with his own cleaning, he deigned to inquire in a bored voice, “You like it down there or do you need some help?”
Lora Lee couldn’t believe her ears. He must have been the most conceited guy in the entire world. Definitely, the world would be a better place with him out of it.
Lora Lee didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by asking for his help so, with a groan and a herculean effort, she first sat up to find her bearings. Then, with a little more struggle, managed to stand up on her wobbling legs. It wasn’t like she’d had the wind blown out of her every day.
She threw him an icy look and left, forgetting about her soup. For a moment there, she regretted not having long shiny hair so she could whip him over the face with it while she turned her head dismissively.
She imagined her fist connecting with the corner of that scornful mouth and felt a little better inside.
Lorna Lee didn’t look back and didn’t care whether he glanced after her or not. Unconsciously, she admitted he probably wouldn’t waste another moment thinking about her if she were to consider his dismissive look when he checked her out.
Exactly when she got into the office building, she had to groan again. There they were! Her three nemesis: three of her co-workers who took a real pleasure in seeing her in the most awkward of situations.
Well, to be truthful, she also did her best not to disappoint them. Not that she wanted to give them more ammunition but, after all, her entire life was a chain of accidents that didn’t display her in the best light. She could have bet her entire pension fund that she’d hear a lot about that last incident too.
Well, the last incident at that moment in time.
The second time Lora Lee met him or bumped into him again, to be more precise, was just shy of two weeks after her first incident.
She’d had a very bad day at work and she was tired, cranky and famished. She stormed out of the office building, determined to go home and soak into a tub of hot water with a glass of red wine – her only attempt at luxury those days, and forget everything about work, creative processes and egotistic so-called artists who believed brainstorming meant they just had to push their ideas no matter the price.
She’d just been promoted to team leader a week before and she had the wonderfulchance to work with a bunch of nitwits who thought they were the best advertising could offer.
Of course, it was not the case. As her luck was, she’d been saddled with the worst team in the world, and she’d been advised to whip them into shape. As if she’d had any chance with so many misfits….
So, Lora Lee stormed out of the building, a pile of files stacked into a cardboard box. She’d just cleared the revolving door when a biker came at full speed towards her and she had to jump aside not to collide with him.
On the bright side, she did manage to avoid the cyclist. On the dark side, she bumped into the same guy she’d run into about two weeks before. He was eating a hot dog right there, at the edge of the sidewalk, pensive, no worry lines on his face.