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it out of the can,” Larkin said.
    As soon as Larkin opened her soda and took a sip, Violet started, “Both of you responded to the ad—”
    “What the—” Larkin sputtered, spraying a little soda.  She swallowed, then turned to Mona Lisa.  “You responded to the ad? I thought you were a lawyer or something.  That’s interesting.”
    Violet smiled to herself.  She liked Larkin; she spoke her mind.  This might not be as difficult as I thought it would be, she thought gleefully to herself.  “She’s here for the same reason you are,” she said crisply, not betraying her true feelings.  “I was impressed with both sets of photos, they were all tastefully done.  I really had a hard time picking one of you.”  She pinned her gaze on Mona Lisa.  “Why are you interested in this?”
    Mona Lisa cleared her throat and sat up, as though she was about to recite a poem.  “I am interested in seducing your husband because—”
    Larkin pursed her lips at Miss Prim and Proper.  “Hell, I’m interested because he’s an asshole and he hurt you and he deserves to be kicked in the balls, literally and figuratively,” she said passionately, then winked at Mona Lisa. 
    “I like you Larkin, I want to hire you.”
    “But she didn’t give me a chance to answer!” Mona Lisa protested.
    “I think she’s more qualified,” Violet said.  “She seems to be showing more, um, interest in the job.”
    “But I am qualified,” Mona Lisa objected.
    Larkin set down her soda, stood up, shimmied out of her sweater dress, and stood naked before Violet.  She placed her hands on her hips.  “So are you more qualified than this?”  Larkin called over her shoulder to Mona Lisa.
    Violet gulped.  “Well damn.  You’re definitely hired.”
     

Chapter 7
     
    Not eager to go home, Clint decided to stay late and close the bakery.  The flu was going around and it seemed like half his staff was recovering from it or just catching it, and because of it, they all felt like hell.  Luckily for him he didn’t catch it.  He wasn’t sure if it was because he got the flu shot, exercised like crazy or took his vitamins, either way he was healthy and happy. 
    It was seven o’clock and he still had two hours left before closing, the bakery was empty, he figured that people might be getting an early start on holiday shopping. 
    Once again he was grateful for his bakery, not only did it provide him with a wonderful living but he could also use it as an excuse to avoid Violet.  They had sex last night, but she was going through the motions, she was so out of it that she had almost dozed off and he had to literally poke her to keep her awake.  Afterwards she had profusely apologized, but the damage had been done. 
    The quaint sound of the bell over the door tinkled, signaling that he had a customer.  Clint couldn’t take his eyes off the lady who glided in as though she was walking the runway.  She had on a bubble gum pink sweater that most women would wear as an oversize blouse, but she boldly wore it as a dress and paired it with over the knee black suede boots. 
    Clint’s gaze roamed slowly over her body as she sauntered toward the case and suddenly his pants tightened.  “May I help you?” he asked, his tone professional. 
    “What’s good?” she asked.
    “Everything’s good.  What do you have a taste for?”  Clint grinned as the customer winked at him. 
    “I’m not sure it’s on the menu,” she drawled. 
    Clint held up his hands.  “Hey, I’m married.”
    “Happily?”
    “Um…yeah.”
    “That sounded convincing,” she replied sarcastically, then studied the contents of the case.  “Let me have a Hummingbird Cupcake and a decaf.”
    “For here or to go?” he asked casually, secretly hoping that she was going to eat at the bakery.
    She considered his question before answering.  “Here, I guess.”  She strolled over to the register while Clint filled her order. 
    Clint waved her toward