Out of Order. Barbara Dunlop

reservation at Sebastian’s for eight o’clock. Sebastian’s was wildly popular, and he’d had the reservation for two weeks. He needed to scope out the place before he took his soon-to-be most important clients there next week.

      He had things to do, places to go. If Shelby Jacobs wanted to line up outside Balley’s on the off chance that Allison was inside, that was her choice. She was a grown woman, perfectly capable of asking for help, even using the telephone if it all went sideways.

      He found himself focusing on her long, sexy legs. Hell, any one of the hundred or so guys inside would probably give his eye teeth for the chance to drive her home.

      Dallas paused.

      Dammit. There went the Williams do-gooder gene again.

      He reached into his pocket to grab some money, then stuffed it into the taxi driver’s hand.

      “Thanks,” he muttered as he hauled himself out of the car, shrugging back into the suit jacket Shelby had abandoned on the seat between them.

      He adjusted his collar and straightened his tie. Rain began to sprinkle down as he lengthened his strides toward the nightclub lineup. He eased in beside Shelby, feeling the base beat that throbbed right through the wall of the building.

      She looked up at him quizzically. “What are you doing here?”

      Dallas lifted the dress out of her hand as he met the gaze of the man in front of her. The man hesitated, then looked away. Too bad, buddy. Just not your night.

      Dallas leaned over and spoke in a low tone. “I wanted to make sure you found Allison.”

      Shelby pulled back and grinned, her changeable eyes sparkling lime-green in the streetlights. “What? You think I need a baby-sitter?”

      Dallas could feel the interested stare of the man in front of them. The rain was increasing and the lineup wasn’t moving. What the hell was he doing here anyway?

      Shelby was hardly a babe in the woods. For all he knew, she really was a petty criminal. He couldn’t exactly picture her selling a bazooka. But pirated software? Maybe a con artist? Hell, she had him eating out of the palm of her hand.

      Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bouncer moving the length of the lineup. Once again, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bill. A big one this time.

      He slipped it into the man’s palm. “Can you get us inside?”

      The burly man, glanced down into his palm. “Follow me.”

      Dallas grabbed Shelby’s hand, towing her along before she could ask any questions, keeping his eyes front as they cut the lineup at the door.

      “Is there anyone you can’t bribe?” asked Shelby.

      “Not so far,” said Dallas. Though it wasn’t part of his daily routine. This had to be the most expensive non-date he’d ever been on.

      Warm air, an eclectic mix of perfumes and a blast of sound from the band met them in the crowded foyer.

      “See Allison?” Shelby asked, coming up on her toes and tipping her chin.

      Dallas tucked her in behind him, shouldering a path toward the dance floor. “Stay close,” he called back.

      “Absolutely,” she shouted, tucking her fingertips into the waistband of his slacks.

      His muscles contracted at the unconsciously sexual gesture. She was simply trying to keep from getting crushed by the crowd, he told himself. If she was trying to flirt, he had a feeling he’d know it.

      To his immense relief, he quickly spotted Allison at a table near the dance floor. He headed straight toward it.

      “Dallas?” Allison’s eyes went round.

      Then she peeked around him. “Shelby?”

      Shelby groaned and plunked herself down on a chair. She picked up Allison’s martini and took a healthy swallow. “I’ve just had the worst day of my life.”

      Allison drew back, gazing at Shelby with interest as she tucked her long dark hair behind one ear. “Given your life, that’s saying something.”

      Shelby nodded vigorously. “Oh, yeah. Even for my life, it was bad. But first things first. I need to freshen up. Can I borrow your purse?”

      “Sure.” Allison handed her a small black bag that matched her sparkling dress.

      Shelby got to her feet, taking the emerald dress from Dallas’s hands. “I’ll tell you all about it after I change.” Then she melted into the crowd.

      Allison turned her attention to Dallas. “Do you know where Greg is?”

      “Last time I saw him, he was at the office.”

      Allison held out her hand. “Can I borrow your cell phone?”

      “Of course.” Dallas fished it from his jacket pocket.

      “He’s late,” she said, pressing the buttons on his phone.

      A cocktail waitress appeared at Dallas’s side. “Get you a drink?”

      “No—”

      “Another martini,” said Allison, holding the phone to her ear. “Make it two. You want one, Dallas?”

      Dallas started to shake his head.

      “Make it three,” said Allison.

      Dallas gave up and sat down. It had cost him fifty bucks to get in the door. He might as well have a drink before he left.

      “Greg?” said Allison, raising her voice and covering her opposite ear. “Where are you?”

      There was a pause.

      “I’ve been at Balley’s for half an hour. Dallas and Shelby are here.”

      She glanced at Dallas, shrugging her shoulders. “Beats me.”

      Then she paused again, her expression growing irritated as the seconds ticked by.

      “But we talked about…”

      She shook her head. “No.”

      Another pause. “No. Not if you want to live.”

      Her frown deepened. “Greg.” She drew his name out on a groan of exasperation.

      Dallas feigned an interest in the couples gyrating on the dance floor, swearing off fiancées then and there. If a guy had to put up with whining in exchange for getting his work done on a Friday night, Dallas wanted no part of it.

      “Fine,” said Allison tersely.

      Dallas zeroed in on the band. They were pretty good.

      “Right,” she added.

      He squinted trying to make out the name stylized on the bass drum.

      “Later,” she finished.

      Elipso…something.

      She clicked the phone shut and handed it back to Dallas, catching his gaze with her wounded blue eyes.

      Oh, crap. He didn’t want to ask.

      He really didn’t want to ask.

      Luckily, Shelby appeared through the crowd.

      Thank goodness. No, wait. He sucked in a tight breath. Not thank goodness. This was bad, too.

      The shimmering emerald dress molded to her curves like a lover, showing off rounded breasts, a flat stomach, cascading over her smooth hips to mid-thigh. There was no way in the world she was wearing underwear beneath it. The realization jacked up his heart rate.

      She’d pulled her hair up into a tousled bun and put on just enough makeup to deepen the color of her eyes—jade-green as they reflected the dress. Her cheekbones stood out. Her lashes were thick and lush and dark, and her full lips were something