Night Fever by Diana Palmer Page B

owe you lunch one day!”
    Becky just nodded, and paused to catch her breath.
    â€œYou look terrible,” Maggie noted as she passed by on her way back from the copying room. “What’s wrong? Want to talk?”
    â€œIt wouldn’t do any good,” Becky said with a gentle smile. “But thanks just the same. And thanks for doing those.”
    Maggie held up the copies. “No problem. Don’t try to take on too much at one time, will you?” she added seriously. “You’re the junior here and that puts you in a bad position sometimes. Don’t be afraid to say no when you can’t make a deadline. You’ll live longer.”
    â€œLook who’s talking,” Becky chided gently. “Aren’t you the one who always volunteers for every charity project the firm takes on?”
    Maggie shrugged. “So I don’t listen to my own advice.” She checked her watch. “It’s almost twelve. Go to lunch. I’ll take second shift today. You need a break,” she added with a worried glance at Becky’s thin figure in the plain pink shirtwaist dress, her hair all over her face and shoulders, her makeup long gone. “And tidy up first, darlin’. You look like something the cat dragged in.”
    â€œI look like a little green snake?” Becky asked, aghast.
    Maggie stared. “I beg your pardon?”
    â€œWell, snakes are all MY cat ever brings in.” She looked down at herself. “I can see me as a giant pink mushroom, maybe. A little green snake? Never!”
    â€œGet out of here,” Maggie muttered.
    Becky laughed. Maggie was like a tonic. Pity she couldn’t bottle her and take her home at night. Home was a worse ordeal than work had ever been, and she knew she was losing ground.
    She went downstairs to the cafeteria around the corner, surprised to find herself in line with the county district attorney, Kilpatrick himself.
    â€œHello, Counselor,” she said, trying not to sound as shell-shocked as she felt. He was just dynamite at close quarters, especially in that watered gray suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and dark complexion.
    â€œHello, yourself,” he mused, glancing at her with faint interest. “Where have you been hiding? The elevator is beginning to bore me.”
    She looked up at him with raised brows. “Do tell? Why not try the staircase and see if you can smoke the janitors out of hiding?”
    He chuckled. He wasn’t smoking one of those hideous cigars, but she was sure he had one tucked away.
    â€œI’ve already smoked him out of hiding,” he confessed. “Caught the trash can on fire this morning. Didn’t you hear the fire alarm go off?”
    She had, but Maggie had checked and it was a false alarm. “You’re kidding,” she said, not sure how to take him.
    â€œNo joke. I was on the phone and not paying too much attention to where the ashtray was. A mistake I won’t make twice,” he added. “My secretary had the fire chief make a personal call and give me some literature on fire safety.” He pursed his lips and his dark eyes sparkled. “She wouldn’t be a relative of yours, by any chance?”
    She laughed. “I don’t think so, but she sounds like my kind of secretary.”
    He shook his head. “You women. A man isn’t safe.” He glanced ahead at the long line with resignation and flipped his wrist to check his watch. “I had two hours when I started, but I had to have my notes typed and pick up another brief before I could get time for lunch.” He shook his head. “Having my office halfway across town from the courthouse isn’t working out too well.”
    â€œThink of the exercise you’re getting,” she said. “That has to be a fringe benefit.”
    â€œIt would be, if I needed to lose weight.” He studied her slender body. “You’ve lost some. How’s your