Someone Like Him by Karen Kendall

From the Publisher

Another sparkling, sexy and fun story about a small-town girl and a city slicker who aren't looking for love but find it when a pampered Doberman unleashes their passion.

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Chapter One

The Big Apple had lost its luster, and no longer gleamed, candy-coated. After only one week in New York, Lavender "Vinnie" Hart decided that all the caramel of the Big Apple had slid right off, figuratively miring her feet and ankles in the goo.

On this gray, inauspicious late-September Monday, panic slapped Vinnie's face, and she stared aghast at her new employer.

Or rather, her new ex-employer. "How can you fire me when I've only been here an hour?"

The Amazon shook her fist. Was she of Latin descent? Arabic? French? Vinnie couldn't decide. All she knew was that the woman came from a fierce warrior tribe that no doubt ate the still-beating hearts of its victims.

"I fire you after wan minute, miss, if I don't like what I see! This is America."

"Yes," Vinnie agreed, "it is. But --"

"No but! I give you fifty-eight minutes after first one. Very generous. You go now."

It wasn't that Vinnie had gotten attached to the maniacal pace of the Manhattan real estate office in the last fifty-nine minutes. The rows upon rows of agent cubicles and hard-eyed, hard-nailed women held little appeal for her. She did feel sorry for them, each with a phone glued to both ears, fingers galloping through MLS listings on computer screens that reflected greenish light off their haggard, perfectly made-up faces. But she hadn't exactly bonded with any of them.

The brokerage was a study in hyperventilation. Every agent there took five breaths to each one of Vinnie's. They gulped down coffee -- expensive designer coffee -- like dehydrated marathon runners at the end of a 10k race. They barked at each other instead of speaking, and they rushed around at the pace of NASCAR drivers.

No -- she wouldn't miss the place. But panic seeped through her veins like battery acid, her knees weakened, and her blood pounded with the rhythm of a two-syllable word: Adam.

How was she going to keep her little brother Adam in his expensive science academy if she couldn't hold on to a job for an hour?

Twelve-year-old Adam was the whole reason they were here, away from the sleepy prairies full of corn and wheat. Away from peace and quiet and family and friends. Around mean and bizarre people who treated her as if she were mentally challenged when she asked for directions or had trouble using the Metro-Card machines in the subway.

Well, Dorothy, she told herself, you're not in Kansas anymore. In Kansas, especially in Independence, Kansas, people tended to be polite. And calm. And reasonable. People in Kansas did not fire their employees after only an hour of service.

Welcome to New York.

Vinnie looked into the peculiarly vengeful face of her (ex) employer. Dislike seeped out of every pore of the woman's skin -- she could sense it -- but she didn't know why. "May I ask --"

An impatient snort escaped from the woman's mouth.

"-- what it is that I did wrong?"

"You do everything wrong," the woman said. "You move wrong. You speak wrong. You dress wrong. You are wrong. Is all there is to it. Go." She handed Vinnie fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents in cash -- having docked the twenty-five cents that the last minute in the hour would have earned her.

"I see," said Vinnie, staring from the money back to the crazy woman. "Well, thank you very much." She hitched the strap of her purse over her shoulder and shoved the money in her skirt pocket as she headed for the door. None of the busy agents even looked up, much less bothered to say good-bye.

"That -- she make eleven!" announced Ms. Crazy's voice behind her. "All, all unsuitable. Why cannot find good help these days? Why!"

Eleven? I'm number eleven? That was some comfort as Vinnie headed through the heavy glass doors of the brokerage. I think that indicates I might not be the problem here. She crossed the lobby, looking down at the cheap pointy-toed pumps she'd bought just for this job. They were killing her feet already. They'd worn blisters on each little toe, were pinching her big toes, and were carefully constructed to offer no padding at all between the pavement and the ball of her foot. Each step she took set her teeth on edge and served as a reminder that her finances were equally uncomfortable.

After paying the deposit and first month's rent on her new apartment, settling Adam into his new boarding school and buying the shoes, Vinnie had eighteen dollars left with which to eat for the rest of the week. But that had been workable as long as she had a job. She knew how to make do with Top Ramen and peanut butter for a few days. Anybody could. There were times when they'd had to do it in Independence.

But this -- this was a serious problem. Because Adam was going to need more books, and heavier clothes for the winter very soon. And she was going to have to pay her half of the utilities on the apartment she shared in Chinatown, plus save for her little brother's next semester's tuition. She had to find another job immediately. Like in the next two days. Vinnie closed her eyes against a heavy stinging sensation, and calculated that the fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents from Ms. Crazy would pay for the subway while she searched for this new job, whatever it would be.

The biggest hitch was that without a full college degree, Vinnie didn't have many options in a city like New York. She clicked along the concrete in her cheap shoes, keeping a tight grip on her hand-bag while people brushed past her ...