The Bachelor Chronicles. Lissa Manley

My future’s at stake here.”

      The fridge door slammed. Colleen stalked into the living room, an apple in her hand. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?” she said, her eyebrows lifted high, a mock-accusatory look on her face.

      Erin raised her hands in surrender. “I know, I know, I blew it. You don’t have to say it again.”

      “Oh, but I do,” Colleen said, her mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “For the first time in ages a man’s gotten to you. This day has been long in coming.”

      Erin dropped her shoulders and gave her friend a dispassionate look. “Would you get serious? He hasn’t ‘gotten to me’ at all.”

      “You get serious. You haven’t been with a man in more than two years. It was only a matter of time before your self-imposed celibacy landed you in trouble.”

      “It wasn’t that at all,” Erin said, only half believing the statement herself. “It was my big mouth, as usual.” And her darn curiosity.

      “Maybe so, but you said yourself this guy was good-looking. Would you have blown the interview if he looked like Elmer Fudd?”

      Erin hesitated. Colleen had made a good point. The disgusting truth was, Erin had been nothing but a big old mass of need since she’d clung to Jared’s hot, interested gaze over the puppy’s head. It looked like her plan to avoid being affected by men had backfired.

      “Okay, Miss Smarty-Pants, you’re right,” Erin finally said. “I’m attracted to him. But that’s pointless, and so is analyzing why I messed up the interview.” She gazed speculatively at Colleen. “Did I tell you I discovered Jared adopted his niece when his sister died a year ago?”

      “Yes, I think you’ve mentioned it a time or two,” Colleen mumbled around a chunk of apple.

      Erin lifted one shoulder. “Okay, I’ll admit that bit of information intrigues me. I mean, how many single guys would adopt a child?”

      “Not many,” Colleen admitted. “Pretty fascinated by this guy, aren’t you? Do I sense a romance in the making?”

      Erin stared at Colleen, her friend’s question restoring Erin’s vow not to be so darn interested in Jared, aside from the interview she needed. “No, you don’t. I’m not fascinated. All I’m interested in is finding a way to get the job done, not encourage a romance.”

      “Okay. So what about sex?”

      Erin wasn’t at all surprised by Colleen’s statement. With Colleen, everything came down to sex. Erin looked at her as if she was a dull child. “This isn’t about sex. It’s about getting that bonus.”

      Colleen slid her gaze to Erin, her blue eyes gleaming. “Of course it’s about sex. Men relate to sex better than anything. Use it to get the interview.”

      Erin blinked and widened her eyes. “You think I should…have sex with him to get the interview?”

      “Of course not! Just use your sexuality to soften him up. More than one man has been known to give in to a sexy, confident woman.”

      Colleen’s idea sounded stupid. Erin was hardly sexy, and she was feeling far from confident about this situation. Yet, Jared had stared back today. Though she’d been out of commission for a while, Erin knew the look of an appreciative male when she saw it. But using that to her advantage seemed…well, sleazy. Though she’d used some sly tactics in the past to get a story, she’d never used sex to do her job. Besides, she thought, glancing down at her baggy sweats and toe socks, she would never be enough of a femme fatale to pull it off.

      She bit her lip, remembering how Brent had called her a fat cow the day he’d left her. The wound on her heart throbbed.

      Self-consciously pulling her sweatshirt down over her hips, she shook her head. “No way,” she stated emphatically. “Sex is out of the question.”

      Colleen snorted. “I wasn’t suggesting you strip naked and jump on him. Use what you’ve got to soften him up.”

      Erin let out a laugh and gestured to herself with a flick of her hand. “This is all I’ve got.”

      “Give yourself some credit. You have great legs, fantastic hair and gorgeous eyes. Use those things to capture and hold Warfield’s interest to get the interview.”

      Erin pulled her pencil from behind her ear and chewed on it. Maybe Colleen was right. It wouldn’t have to go far; just a little apologizing, flirting, maybe a flash of leg…

      The thought of dealing with Jared under those circumstances sent a major swarm of butterflies into her stomach. Lord, she didn’t know if she could face him again. But she was desperate, and she hadn’t come up with any other bright ideas. She had one more shot to get the interview and the bonus. Drastic measures seemed appropriate.

      She looked at her friend’s stylish blond hairstyle and flattering outfit. “Would you help me do this?” she asked, feeling a sense of insecurity.

      Colleen wagged her eyebrows. “You want me to come along and coach from the sidelines?”

      “Of course not.” The last thing she needed was an audience to witness her trying to attract a man. “But I could use some advice on clothes and makeup. What do you think?”

      Colleen smiled conspiratorially and rubbed her hands together. “You’ve come to the right place. Let’s get to work.”

      Erin did her best to return Colleen’s smile, but found it difficult. She was an absolute lunatic for thinking she could attract a man like Jared Warfield, even as part of a weird plot to convince him to give her the interview.

      Brent’s merciless treatment had struck an almost fatal blow to her self-confidence.

      But she had to stuff her doubts, forget about the damage Brent had caused and take the chance. She might lose her dignity, but thank goodness she didn’t have to worry about losing her heart.

      Jared read the card he’d found attached to the small, flat gift, wrapped in flowery tissue paper and curly ribbon.

      Dear Mr. Warfield:

      Please accept this gift as a token of my regret regarding our conversation yesterday. I am officially ready to eat crow and conduct a proper interview. I would love to have you as my guest for lunch today at The Viceroy at noon. See you then.

      Sincerely, Erin James.

      He shook his head and reached for the heavy package and quickly tore the flimsy tissue aside. Inside was a beautifully done book on flowers of the Pacific Northwest. A smile curved his lips at the significance of the subject matter; Ms. James was trying to make up for her inappropriate comments about his love for gardening.

      While he admired her persistence, he still had no intention of granting her the interview and going on some ridiculous, arranged date. Glancing at the picture of Allison on his desk, her four new teeth visible behind her cute little smile, he reminded himself of his vow to keep the media out of their lives for good.

      But he might meet Erin for lunch just to see the look on her face when he showed up and refused to talk about himself. This had become a challenge, something he often couldn’t resist. Yes, that was it, this was a game, nothing more. Accepting her invitation had nothing to do with her sexy green eyes, curvy legs and tousled hair that he would love to touch. Nope. Nothing at all.

      A light knock on his door pulled his attention away from Erin James and her damn interview.

      “Come in,” he said.

      Mark Phillips, Warfield’s head of marketing, stepped through the partially open door, his dark eyebrows knitted together. “You got a minute?”

      Jared nodded and waved him in. “Sure.”

      Mark, whose small stature made him look all of twenty instead of his actual age of thirty-three, stepped in the room and held up a file folder. “The quarterly sales figures,” he said grimly.