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wanting Lindsey’s number was purely work-related.
    No doubt about it, he was Lindsey’s type. Perfectly, cleanly out of reach, unless, of course he got a little drunk and ended up going home with Lindsey as his solid second choice.
    Oh, yeah, if she played her cards right, she could get totally skewered by this one.
    Although it had been quite some time since she’d been skewered—or preskewered, which was far more enjoyable.
    Still, a little distance would probably be prudent.
    “Wouldn’t Tracy be a better person to assist Jenkins with this?” she suggested, even as she took one of the Troubleshooters Incorporated business cards off of the little holder on Tom’s desk. She wrote her number on the back. “I mean, I’m happy to do it, of course. I was just thinking, since they’re, you know, old friends”—wink, wink—“Jenk might appreciate spending time with her.”
    Jenkins liked that idea. “Thanks,” he said, pocketing the business card, still rummaging for one of his own. Yeah, she had been right about him favoring one side. He definitely didn’t have full range of motion in his left arm.
    Her own shoulder—her right one—twinged in sympathy.
    If she hadn’t just decided to keep her distance, she could’ve given him some rehab and recovery tips.
    Tom, meanwhile, wasn’t as thrilled as Jenk was about her Tracy idea. “You’re the official TS Inc liaison,” he told Lindsey. “If I need answers, I’m going to come to you. But you can absolutely let Tracy help. That’s what she’s been hired to do. In fact, you can use this opportunity to get to know her, help bring her up to speed.”
    Oh, whee.
    Tom was an excellent leader. He was capable of reading his subordinates even when, like Lindsey was doing right now, they were wearing their best poker faces.
    “We’ll talk about that later, as well,” he said. “I’ve got a few more things to discuss with Jenk.”
    “First days are always tough,” Jenk reminded them, as Lindsey got to her feet. He rose, too, terminally polite, as he handed her his card.
    “I’ll see if I can’t find the office calendar,” Lindsey said.
    “Are you going to be around for a while?” Jenk asked.
    “All afternoon.”
    He nodded. “Great. Then I’ll catch you after lunch.” No doubt he was going out with Tracy. What a waste. Still, his smile was infectious, and Lindsey smiled back—but distantly, she hoped—as she closed the door behind her.
    Out in the reception area, Tracy was making copies as she tried to keep up with answering the phones. Slender, but with curves in all the right places, with long brown hair, startlingly blue eyes, and an exotically beautiful face, she could have made a fortune as a fashion model if only she were five inches taller.
    She teetered precariously on the too-high heels of those ridiculous three-hundred-dollar shoes, as she ran back and forth between the copier and the phones.
    “Oh, hi, Sam,” she said, as she answered the phone, putting on a sugary voice reserved for anyone who had dangling genitalia. “No, Decker hasn’t called in. Can I help?” The other lines were all lighting up, and the copy machine had stopped, but Tracy ignored it all because Sam Starrett was on the phone.
    Lindsey sighed, and went to the other desk, picking up the ringing lines. “Troubleshooters Incorporated. Hold please. Troubleshooters Incorporated, sorry, can you hold?”
    Tracy Shapiro was beautiful, there was no question about that. She had a body that all women wished for but few ever achieved. She seemed friendly enough—a little too friendly where Sam Starrett was concerned, though. And, yes, okay, maybe Lindsey was wrong about the no-brains thing. Maybe she was a rocket scientist. Some of the rocket scientists Lindsey had met at UCLA couldn’t answer more than one phone at a time, either.
    There was a lot Lindsey didn’t know about Tracy, but there was one thing she would’ve bet big money on if she’d found a taker.
    And