Fireside by Susan Wiggs (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

someone handed it to them. Many of them harbored a sense of entitlement that led them to break laws and hearts with equal aplomb. And afterward, to claim they’d been victimized.

Sometimes, however, even intentions spoken aloud were drowned out by something louder—common sense. Even in the midst of a round of tequila, Kim knew it wasn’t enough to declare what she didn’t want. She needed to figure out what she did want.

“Isn’t it ironic,” her mother said, “now that you’ve sworn off athletes, you live in a house full of them—Dino, Early and Bo.”

“He is so gorgeous,” Daphne declared, and they didn’t need to ask who “he” was.

“Ask him out,” Kim said with a casual wave of her hand. “As far as we know, he’s unattached.”

“Nah, not my type. He’s a family man, and I’m not into kids.”

Bo, a family man. Perspective was everything, Kim thought.

“Besides,” Daphne added, “he likes you. It’s so obvious.”

“He barely knows me,” Kim protested, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. Getting a guy to like her was no special trick. Through no fault of her own, she’d come endowed with red hair, big boobs and long legs. It didn’t take much else to get some guy’s attention, and that hadn’t changed since junior high.

“He’s totally into you. I predict a romantic fling.”

Kim’s face flushed. She had barely acknowledged the mutual attraction between her and Bo, and she didn’t think anyone had noticed. It’s so obvious. Kimberly tried not to feel intrigued by Daphne’s suggestion. “What’s the point of a romantic fling?”

“Geez, girl, it’s only one of the best things in the world.”

“Yes, but the definition of a fling is that it’s quickly over and in the end, you’re…”

“Flung?” her mother suggested.

“Exactly. A fling has an expiration date. And that’s sad.”

“Just because it’s sad to see something end doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy it,” Daphne pointed out. “I’m right. You know I’m right.”

They lost track of the time, getting sillier and forgetting dinner entirely. Bo and Early came home, fresh-faced, their color high from the cold. She tried not to acknowledge what the sight of Bo Crutcher did to her. Tried not to notice her pulse speeding up, her face warming with a blush. That was the tequila, surely.

“Hello, gentlemen,” her mother said. Her attempt at sounding unaffected by the tequila gave both Kim and Daphne a fit of the giggles.

Bo’s gaze flickered over the tequila setup. “Everything all right?” he asked. “Is AJ okay?”

“Of course,” Kim was quick to assure him. “He and Dino had dinner out, then came home and played cribbage—”

“Played what?”

She laughed at the expression on his face. Was there anything more appealing than a man in a state of complete befuddlement? “It’s a board game. And they’ve both gone to bed by now. And we’ve been celebrating.”

“Yeah? What’s the occasion?”

“I’m getting my financial house in order,” her mother informed him. “And learning to do tequila shots. Oh, and Kimberley’s new leaf, we mustn’t forget that.”

“What leaf?” asked Bo.

“My new one,” she declared with an airy wave of her hand. “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m going to reinvent my career with a better purpose. No more covering up for felons having tantrums in public. No more trying to garner sympathy for guys who just signed a multimillion-dollar contract. No more training guys who never finished their education to sound like Rhodes scholars.” She and Daphne made another toast.

“Go girl,” said Daphne.

“Here’s to no more athletes,” she reiterated. “No more loutish clients, no more making sows’ ears into silk purses.” She sipped her tequila. “I wonder how that phrase came into being. Who would ever look at a sow’s ear and see a purse?”

“Judith Leiber,” said Bo.

Bagwell frowned at Kim. “What have you got against athletes?”

She sent him a wry smile. “How much time do you have?”

“How much do you need?” Bo asked. He was so good-looking. When did he get to be so good-looking? Watching him and Early, she decided her troubles didn’t stem from athletes per se. Or even men in general. She simply wanted a new life that didn’t resemble her old life.

“None, because I’m done talking about all that.”

“Good. I came to propose something to you,” he said.

“I’m sorry, did you just say propose? You should know better than to throw that word around when a single woman is within earshot.”

“Make that three single women,” her mother reminded them.

“Sorry,” Bo said easily. “Poor choice of words. So does that mean you’re looking to get married?”

“I need to work on getting a date first.” Kim refilled the shot glass.

“Well, then—”

She held up her hand like a shield. “A nice, safe, boring man who knows how to behave himself.”

“Yeah, whatever. But I still have a proposition to make you.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s a win-win, I swear.”

“That’s right,” Early said. “See, he figured out what he’s going to do about Fame School.”

“That’s right. I’m going to hire someone to work with me right here, so I don’t have to leave AJ.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” her mother said, oblivious to the tension straining between them. “That sounds like a fine solution indeed.”

Kim felt a queasy sensation in her gut. She swallowed hard. “You’re going to ask me to do it, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Kim,” Bagwell urged her. “Make an exception for Crutch. He needs you.”

Kim refused to acknowledge the surge of warmth she suddenly felt. “I’ve just spent the evening adjusting to my newfound freedom from my old life. And believe me, a man’s need is not exactly the most powerful motivator in the world.”

Bo crossed the room, took a seat beside her. “This can be about your needs, part of your new leaf.”

“That won’t work,” she said.

“What won’t work?”

“This earnest-and-charming thing you’re doing. I won’t fall for it.”

“Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You think?”

“You dislike him?” Her mother gave her a quizzical look. “I had no idea you disliked him.”

Kim kept glaring at Bo as she answered Penelope. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nonsense,” said her mother.