Read In the Clear for Free Online

shoes at all.
    “So.” Joan always cut right to the point—it was her best and worst trait. “What was that all about?”
    “What was what all about?” Lexie looked around the room, her gaze landing everywhere but on her boss.
    “Sweetie, the walls shook so hard I almost lost my corkboard. You’re not still upset over last week’s John Marshall incident, are you?”
    An incident. That was what it was now, to be recorded forever in the annals of Lexie’s Mishaps. She shook her head. “No, that’s not it.”
    And it wasn’t. This tight feeling of discontent had been lodged in the pit of her stomach for days now. Although she wouldn’t dare to name its origins, she had a strong suspicion it had to do with three consecutive nights of Sean and Fletcher hitting the bars together, the pair of them capitalizing on Fletcher’s newfound fame like a pair of shameless man-whores.
    Why don’t they invite me? She could whore it up with the best of them. All Fletcher had to do was ask.
    “Anything I can help with?” Joan asked.
    Lexie wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t even sniffle. “I’m fine. Just please don’t tell me I should take the rest of the afternoon off or something. I still need to see if I can sweet-talk the caterers into increasing their discount this year.”
    “If anyone can, it’s you.” Joan’s certainty did much to straighten Lexie’s spine. But then she ruined it by pursing her deep burgundy lips in the way she had when she was pretending to be thinking, and added, “Rebecca says you’ve got a date all lined up and ready to go. I’m so glad—the luncheon benefit is always more fun with a handsome face to accompany you. Do I know him?”
    That’s it.
    Blame it on Christmas. Blame it on Rebecca. Blame it on Fletcher, whose newfound fame should have made her proud and not at all as if she’d somehow missed her chance of ever being more than Sean’s annoying sister. A probing question like that, no matter how kindly worded, was the absolute limit of Lexie’s tolerance.
    She was tired of being the screw-up who needed checking up on. Tired of being the last to know about anything. Tired of being patted on the head and told she was cute.
    She was happy to be cute. But darn it all to Atlantis and back—she was also a lot more . Why couldn’t anyone see that?
    “I don’t think you know him, but you probably know of him. He was all over the papers last week.” The words slipped out before Lexie could stop them, and it was only with supreme self-control that she stopped herself from putting her hands over her mouth to push them back in.
    Joan raised a brow. “High profile? That’s always good for donations. I’m assuming it’s good press we’re talking about here, right? You’re not bringing that serial killer from Wyoming?”
    Lexie managed a tight smile. “No, I haven’t fallen quite that far. His name is Fletcher. Fletcher Owens. He was the guy—”
    “Are you kidding me right now?”
    “No, he’s really nice,” Lexie said, her defensive hackles rising. “He’s been a friend of my brother’s—of my whole family’s, really—for years. You’ve never met anyone so dependable or so sweet. He’s . . . it’s hard to explain. He’s the guy you trust with your most valuable possessions. The one who makes you feel better when no one else can.”
    “Oh, I believe you.” Joan licked her lips and leaned in. “What I can’t believe, however, is that you’ve been sitting on Spokane’s famous rescue guy all this time. If he’s been a friend of your family’s for years, why are you only now rolling him out for us? Cute, heroic . . . and he probably loves kittens.” She released a wistful sigh. “They always love kittens.”
    Lexie had no idea. Kittens had never struck her as a deal breaker before.
    But Joan wasn’t done. “The women at the luncheon are going to eat him right up. By all means, bring the man. He probably looks incredible in a suit. He certainly did that wet