I start toward them, but something feels off. My instincts kick in, uneasy, so I slip out of sight, grab the newspaper from the receptionist’s desk, and use it to shield my face.
What is setting off my alarms?
I can’t place it at first until I notice Helen laughing too much.
She looks like she’s just come from work, still in that same skimpy skirt, stiletto heels, and barely appropriate blouse, the kind that always reveals just a little too much. She works as a receptionist at a big law firm, and men are always drawn to her, practically falling at her feet, yet somehow she always ends up with the short end of the stick.
Was she flirting with Josh?
I haven’t introduced them yet. Helen knows I’m seeing someone, I even showed her a picture, but they’ve never met face to face. Not un
