“Oh, Mr. Wolfe, we were just headed out for lunch.” Marcy’s voice was all honey. Sarah stared daggers at her backstabbing friend. Didn’t she spend twenty minutes this morning listening to her go into detail how Mr. Wolfe was pond scum? And here she was, inviting the man to lunch. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sneak back to her office and hide under the desk until five o’clock.

“It’s Falon, please Ms. …”

“Marcy.”

Dear Lord, the woman was batting her eyes in a bad imitation of Scarlett O’Hara. Run girl, Falon Wolfe was no Rhett Butler.

“Marcy. I would love to join you ladies.” He looked between the two of them. “If you would give me just a minute?”

“What are you doing?” Sarah hissed at Marcy as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Inviting the man to lunch.” She watched as the light bulb finally clicked on for Marcy. “Crap! I’m sorry Sarah, but you know my I’m a sucker for a handsome face and that Falon Wolfe is as hot as they come. What’s your problem with him anyway? This much anxiety can’t just be over the old man’s business.”

She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Marcy wasn’t exactly the best person to spill your personal secrets to and this one was a doozy. So she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, he just rubs me the wrong way.”

Which was a boldfaced lie. For all that Falon was a dog of gigantic proportions, the man could certainly rub a woman the right way. She felt herself blushing again and willed it to stop before Marcy made assumptions that were too close to the truth for her comfort.

“Ready to go?” Falon appeared in the doorway to his office with a patient smile. It was like the man knew they were talking about him and loved every minute of it. Which was probably the truth. She felt her eyes narrow as she forced her gaze straight ahead.

“Is Frank meeting us there?” she asked Marcy, who was suffering from the inability to take her eyes off of Falon.

“Huh?” She visibly shook herself. “Oh, no he should be here any minute. You know Frank, perpetually late.”

Sarah noticed the calculating gleam enter Falon’s eyes and thought it best to take some of the heat off of Frank’s inability to be on time.

“Only when it comes to meeting up with us,” she said, shooting Falon a quick look. “Anything important he is usually on time.”

“Speak for yourself, sugar.” Marcy crossed her arms over her ample chest as Frank finally started toward them from his office down the hall. Poor man didn’t even know he was in the doghouse yet. Sarah had a feeling he was about to find out. She rolled her eyes as Marcy linked her arm through Falon’s, forcing her and Frank to follow behind. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

***

Sitting at the high table in the little sports bar Frank had insisted they go to, Falon couldn’t help thinking he had walked right into the middle of something. Marcy had insisted he sit next to her and ever since the waitress took their drink orders he had been dodging her very blatant advances.

He didn’t miss the dejected looks Frank kept shooting the brazen brunette either. Yep, definitely found myself smack dab in the middle of a lover’s spat. There was nothing comfortable about being the other man. Unless of course he went in knowing his role. Then he was always very comfortable. If judging by the death glare Sarah maintained, he wasn’t treading on consensual ground.

“So, Frank, you’re an agent?” he asked, firmly removing Marcy’s curious hand from his thigh.

“That’s right.” Frank eyed him suspiciously. Like he knew what Marcy was up to under the table and it was somehow Falon’s fault.

“How do you like it?”

“In the good times it’s wonderful. The best part is watching someone that you pulled from nonexistence become this supernova. The pride that fills you when your little protégé takes the world by the horns and conquers the universe that is show business, there’s nothing like it.”

He could only nod. The other man came to life talking about his work. Falon shifted in his seat. He’d felt that way once. That passion. Now it was more cool calculation. The man’s love for his job was obvious and it made him more than a little uncomfortable. He was used to men like himself, men who were more interested in the bottom line than anything else.

Lifting his water glass to his lips, he unknowingly left his obviously vulnerable lap unguarded. When Marcy’s hand swooped in and not so subtly planted itself a little bit north of its previous exploration, he couldn’t suppress his surprised jerk and nearly lost a mouthful of water through his nose.

Shooting his gaze across the table to see if anyone noticed Manhandling Marcy’s actions, he met Sarah’s golden eyes and prayed his silent plea for her to call her friend off translated. When she narrowed her eyes and shifted that very effective death glare to her friend, he let out a breath. Thank God. He was pretty sure she wasn’t taking mercy on him, but Frank, who was looking less than chipper, but whatever got Marcy’s hands out of his lap would work for him.

“If you’ll excuse me, guys,” Sarah finally spoke up. “I need to use the restroom. Marcy?”

“Hmm?”

“You coming?” He didn’t miss the impatience in her voice and apparently neither did the woman currently flexing her fingers on a very sensitive part of his body.

“Fine,” Marcy huffed and slid off her chair. “I don’t know why you can’t go alone. You’re just perpetuating a misconception held by all men that women are incapable of doing a simple task like peeing without at least one friend for assistance.”

He bit back a chuckle as her tirade about men’s views of women continued across the restaurant. Ralph Maxwell was right about people in this business being a little over the top. He was pretty sure Marcy took the cake in the drama queen department and could only imagine the discussion going on in the ladies’ room right now. If it was anything like this morning, the woman was getting an ear full from Sarah right about now. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall …

“Sorry about her.” Frank’s quiet words drew his thoughts back to the table. “She’s just mad at me for last night and you’re the closest available male to … well you know.”

“I take it her little jab about you being late has something to do with this as well?”

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, she had planned this big night based on a book she read. You know the one …”

He held up a hand. “Say no more.”

The other man laughed. “Long story short, I forgot about it and was running late and she got impatient. Then angry and now … now she’s getting even.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the waiting type.”

“That she is not.” Frank shook his head and took a drink of his soda. Falon shared a commiserating smile with him, and despite himself, found that he kind of liked the poor sod.

***

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Sarah rounded on Marcy as soon as she was sure they were alone in the restroom.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Marcy leaned over a sink, examining her makeup in the mirror.

“Oh, come off it. You’re mad at Frank for some reason I probably don’t want to know about, and you’re taking it out on poor Falon.”

“Poor Falon? We’re you the one who just half an hour ago was likening the guy to the worst kind of dog and now he’s poor Falon?”

She shifted her weight before catching herself. She wasn’t about to let Marcy turn this around on her.

“Whatever he may be. No one deserves to be put in the middle of the games you play with Frank.”

“I’m not—” The other woman cut off whatever she was about to say when she saw Sarah’s arched brow. “Fine, maybe I am, but he deserves it this time. I had a whole thing planned last night. I went out and got this hot leather corset and the cutest little whip—”