Robin stared at him for a second, dumbfounded. "Pardon" me?" she said finally.
"You heard me," said Nails. "You don't have to answer that question, but I'm curious."
"I'd rather not answer it," said Robin stiffly. "It is rather personal, you know."
"Yes it is," agreed Nails with a smile. "But we shall find out sooner or later. Or I will, that is-you already know."
Robin lapsed into an embarrassed silence. She sipped her drink awkwardly.
"Come on," said Nails. "I didn't mean to upset you." He drew her into him by her shoulders and brought her lips up close to his. He didn't kiss her.
Robin waited tensely. She was too confused to know what to do. But she knew what she felt like doing.
"Don't be afraid," Nails said soothingly.
"I'm not," she whispered.
Nails ran his hand up the inside of her suit jacket, pulled Robins blouse out of the top of her skirt. "You're going to be nice," he said.
CHAPTER-ONE
Robin West peered over the rim of her coffee up at the tall blond stranger who had just spoken to her. "Pardon me?" she said.
"I'm sorry," said the man, smiling. "I didn't mean to bother you. Could you pass me the sugar, please?"
"Sure," said Robin. She had been lost in her thoughts. Now she snapped back to reality and slid the sugar jar along the counter to the stranger. "Here you are."
"Thanks," he said.
"No trouble," she answered. She smiled back at him, noticing for the first time that he was quite attractive. His face was deeply tanned from the summer that had just ended, and it was topped by a head of thick, curly hair. He looked to be about twenty-four and he was well-dressed in a light gray suit. All his teeth gleamed whitely when he smiled.
"I hope I didn't completely ruin your train of thought," he said.
Robin smiled to show him it didn't matter. "I was just daydreaming," she said. "Nothing important."
"Sure it was important," he said. He looked thoughtful for a second. "I bet you were thinking about going for your job interview and about how you'll like living in the big city."
Robin's eyes widened in amazement. "How did-?"
The young man grinned. "Elementary, my dear Watson."
"But I don't see how ... I mean, do you know me?"
"No ... but I wouldn't mind." He held out his hand. "My name is Jim. Jim Dodd. What's yours?"
She smiled at him, still baffled. "Robin West," she said. She took his hand and shook it. She imagined that he held it just a little longer than necessary before letting it go, but she couldn't be certain. Flushing slightly, she returned her hand to her coffee cup and fingered the handle. "I still don't see how you know that I'm on my way to a job interview and that I'm going to be living in the city."
Jim narrowed his eyes, brought the stem of an imaginary pipe to his lips and faked a few thoughtful puffs. "Simple deduction," he explained in his best Sherlock Holmes manner. "First off, you're carrying the want-ad section of the paper under your arm. That's an obvious tip-off right there that you're job-hunting. Secondly, you gave me a big friendly smile when I asked you to pass the sugar. That suggests that you come from out of town, because not many people who live in the city for any length of time can manage such a bright smile at this hour of the morning."
Robin's smile grew even wider at the flattery. "Thank you," she said demurely.
"Now," Jim went on, "since you're from out of town and you're looking for a job in the city, the obvious conclusion is that you plan to move into the city."
"I've already moved in," said Robin. "About a week ago."
"Okay, but I was close," said Jim.
"Right," said Robin. Then, mischievously, she added, "But it shouldn't have been so obvious that I'm job hunting just because I'm carrying the want ads. I mean, maybe I read them for enjoyment. Everybody has their own taste, you know."
Jim laughed. "There were other factors, though. For instance, it's quarter to ten now. That's later than most places start work, and earlier than most places have their coffee breaks. Therefore, the very fact that you're in here at this time-coupled with the fact that you're carrying the classified section-indicates that you're not working and are looking for work."
Robin realized she couldn't out-argue him on the point. She grinned, impressed with his astuteness. "Very good reasoning," she conceded. "But, incidentally, how come you're here at this time?"
"Maybe I'm looking for a job, too," he kidded.
"No, really," she pressed.
"Well, actually what I do is look for stories. I'm a newspaper reporter and writer, and that's why my hours are pretty much my own. I don't have to punch a time clock."
"Why that's amazing," said Robin. "I'm going for a job on a newspaper myself!"
"You are?"
"Uh-huh." Robin riffled through her pocket book and pulled out a slip of paper. "Here's the place," she said, reading the address. "It's a newspaper called the Inside Scoop."
"Well, now, that is a coincidence," said Jim.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, that's the newspaper I work for."
"You do?"
Jim nodded. "Been with the outfit for about two years. Do you know anything about it?"
"Only that it's a weekly," said Robin. "And that it's ... you might say, raw."
Jim grinned. "That's putting it mildly. It's pure sensationalism. You know, like we do stories about mothers who chop off their kids' heads, and things like that."
Robin grimaced. "Ugh. I hope I'll be able to stand it."
"Oh, you'll get used to it."
"Those stories aren't really true, are they?"
"Some of them are," said Jim. "In fact, we try to get as many true stories as possible. That's one of my jobs. But I must admit that when we can't come up with a good true story, we have no qualms about inventing one."
"That's shocking."
"What is?" asked Jim. He finished his coffee and put it down. "The stories we print or the fact that we make them up?"
"Both," said Robin. "I mean, people believe these things. You're cheating them."
"f don't think we really are," Jim said. "We would be if they were reading our newspaper in order to get facts. But most of the jerks who read this rag read it just for entertainment. So we give it to them. I don't think that's cheating, because they're getting exactly what they're paying for."
"I don't know...." said Robin.
"Well, how come you're looking for a job on such a paper if you have such a low opinion of it?"
Robin grinned. "Because I want to get into writing somehow, and this was one of the few openings."
"Asa writer?"
"No, actually it's only as a secretary to the publisher." She looked at her slip of paper again. "A Mr. Edward Orient. But I was told that it was a good opportunity, and that he'd give me a chance to try some writing."
Jim gave a knowing sigh. "Well, he'll give you a chance, all right-but I doubt if it will have very much to do with writing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, better watch out for him," said Jim. "He's my boss and all, and he'd fire me in a minute if he knew I was telling you this, but he's a notorious ladies' man. He's had three secretaries quit on him in the last five months, because he made too many passes at them."
"And they didn't like it, right?"
"No, quite the opposite. They loved it. Nails, as we call him, is a very attractive man. The trouble is, as soon as he's made one of his secretaries fall in love with him, he starts treating her nasty-making obvious passes at her right in the office, and things like that. Eventually, they get fed up and leave."
"I see," said Robin thoughtfully. "Well, at any rate, if I get the job, it will be strictly business."
"Don't expect him not to try."
Robin smiled confidently. "He can try all he wants. It's just that he won't succeed."
"Well, he'll try, all right," said Jim. "You're just the kind of girl he'd go for. I know him."
"You talk as if I'm hired already."
"Oh, he'll hire you. With looks like yours, you'd get the job if you didn't know a typewriter from a fountain pen."
"Thank you," said Robin, smiling warmly. She was beginning to like Jim, becoming increasingly attracted by both his looks and his manner. There was something sincere and honest about him, a certain firm integrity-even if he did work on a trashy newspaper. She found herself hoping that he liked her too.
"Don't let what I told you interfere with your work or anything," Jim hastened to add. "I just wanted you to be prepared."
"That's sweet of you," said Robin. She finished what was left of her coffee and looked at her watch. "It's almost ten," she said. "I'm supposed to see him at ten."
"Come on," said Jim, "I'll ride up the elevator with you."
"Don't you have someplace to go?"
"It can wait a few extra minutes," said Jim. "May I treat you for the coffee?"
Robin smiled. "Why thank you."
Jim scooped up the two checks and dropped a dime and a nickel on the counter as a tip. Then he paid the checks and escorted Robin out of the coffee shop to the street.
"It's just down the block," he said.
Robin followed him happily. She felt incredibly lucky to have already met one of her fellow employees-if she got the job, of course-and to have found him so attractive and nice. She hoped he found her equally attractive, and, as they walked together down the street, she unobtrusively gave her appearance a quick once-over.
She was satisfied with what she saw. Although she was petite, her body still managed to appear full without seeming dumpy. Her breasts, jutting out proudly beneath her blue suit, couldn't have been shapelier had they been sculpted by Michelangelo. Her waist was small and flat, and, while it didn't show at the moment, it was also tight and muscular. The skirt of her suit flared out curvaceously around her firm buttocks, shifting back and forth sexily as she walked. Her stockinged legs were letter perfect, descending steeply into pert, white high-heeled shoes.
All in all, she thought with satisfaction, it was a smart-looking package-topped off with a pretty, dark-complexioned face and a frame of glistening, shoulder-length black hair.
Jim took her arm and guided her into the building. "It's on the tenth floor," he said, ringing for the elevator. "Nails took the tenth because he thinks the number ten is lucky. I think he's ridiculous, and I've told him. But he can't be convinced that it's only a superstition."
"He sounds interesting."
"He is. Just remember my warning, though."
"I will."
"By the way," said Jim. "You didn't tell me where you're from originally."
"Iowa," Robin said. She smiled. "You've never heard of the town, I'm sure. It's an Indian name-Ranapaw. It's so small it isn't even on the map."
"Is this the first time you've left Ranapaw?"
Robin nodded. "I finally got fed up. Nothing was happening there. I decided to make the break once and for all and come to the city." She laughed and tried the phrase again. "The big city ... I sure hope it doesn't swallow me up."
"It won't if you're careful," said Jim. "Anyway, you've got one friend already-that's a good beginning."
"Thanks," said Robin. "That's nice to know." The elevator door opened and they got in. "How old are you?" asked Jim. "I mean," he added quickly, "if you don't mind telling me."
"Not at all," said Robin. "I'm nineteen. And you?"
"Twenty-four," said Jim. Robin nodded.
Jim said, "Can I ask you another personal question?"
"Of course."
"Have you got a boyfriend back home?"
Robin shook her head. "Not anymore. I went steady with a guy for about two years, but I broke it off recently. Why do you ask?"
Jim shrugged. Then he smiled, because it was so obvious. "No special reason," he said.
Robin smiled. She could tell he was interested in her, and she was glad. She hoped he would ask her out so that she could get to know him better. The more she spoke with him, the more she suspected that he might just be the guy she was looking for-somebody with not just looks, but with intelligence and ambition. Somebody far removed from the indolent slob she had stuck with for two long years back in Ranapaw.
"Here we are," said Jim as the elevator door slid open at the tenth floor. He put his arm gently around her waist and guided her in the right direction. She trembled for a moment at his touch. It said, she imagined, so very much.
"I guess this is it," she remarked as they approached a double door on which was imprinted in large letters INSIDE SCOOP, and below it, in smaller type, EDWARD ORIENT-PUBLISHER & EDITOR IN CHIEF.
"Yes," said Jim. "This is it. The plush offices of the National Degenerate, most disgusting newspaper in America."
Robin frowned and placed her finger to her lip.
"Shh," she cautioned. "You might get fired."
"Never," said Jim. "At least not for that, anyway.
Even Nails himself jokes about the thing being a rag.
"I should think he'd be proud of his newspaper."
"He is," said Jim. "Proud of the hundred thousand dollars it brings him every year."
He pushed open the door and held it open for her. As Robin entered, her first thought, as she looked around the small entrance lobby, was that it looked exactly the way she had pictured a newspaper office. Besides the reception desk, there were two other desks, both bearing typewriters, paper, pens and funny yellow rulers which, she later learned, were used for measuring type.
The pretty, dark-eyed receptionist looked up and smiled at him-a smile which Robin found herself interpreting as "interested." Immediately, Robin made a mental note to remain on guard with her. The receptionist was, as of the smile, a rival.
"Hi Jim," she said. The sultry bat of her eyelash confirmed Robin's suspicions.
"Hi Mol," Jim said. "Robin, this is Molly Dobrow, our valiant receptionist. I say valiant, because it's she who has to deal with all the nuts who come up here."
"Nuts?" said Robin.
"Yeah, we get some wild ones up here. I'll tell you about some of them sometime. In fact, it you decide to work here, you'll pretty soon start meeting nuts of your own."
Molly laughed. Robin smiled politely. She had noticed the way Jim had said "if you decide to work here." It was a little thing, but so very considerate, she thought. She found herself liking Jim even more than she had earlier.
"And this," Jim went on to Molly, "is Robin West. She's probably going to be Nails' new secretary."
"Well," said Molly, running her gaze from Robin's face down to her legs and then back up again. "That ought to be interesting."
Robin stiffened slightly but said nothing. She didn't think she was going to like Molly.
"Come on," said Jim, ushering Robin past Molly's desk and into the main office. "You don't want to be late."
He led her through a medium-sized office containing seven desks with typewriters on them, three of which were occupied by shirt-sleeved young men in varying states of creativity-one typing, another scribbling intently with a short pencil and the third leaning back in a chair with a cigar in his mouth, staring serenely at the ceiling.
"This is our staff of writers," Jim explained. "I'll introduce you to everybody later. In there-" he pointed to a closed office door, "is the art department. That office over there is Zita Charleston's. She's the office manager. And over here is where you're going."
Jim knocked on the door.
"Come in," a voice barked. Robin guessed that this was the boss. She took a breath to compose herself.
"You're on your own," Jim said, pushing open the door for her. He squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "Good luck."
"Thanks, Jim," she said.
She walked through the empty outer office and into the plushly carpeted office of Edward Orient, thinking of how sweet Jim had been to her and trying to keep herself from falling head over heels in love with him too quickly.
Then she took one look at Edward Orient.
And she knew, from the instant he fixed her gaze with his sexy, self-assured eyes, that falling in love with Jim wasn't going to be her biggest problem at all.
CHAPTER-TWO
"Sit down," said the publisher.
"Thank you," said Robin. Demurely, she walked through the thick rug to a chair by the side of his desk.
"I take it you're Robin West."
"Yes sir," Robin said.
"Call me Nails."
"Nails?"
"That's what everyone here calls me."
"Okay," said Robin. She tried it out. "Nails."
"Fine," said Nails. "Now tell me something about yourself, Robin."
Robin shifted in the chair and crossed her legs carefully. "What would you like to know?" she asked. She was conscious of his eyes examining her shapely calves.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Nineteen," he repeated. He jotted something down on a memo pad. "Do you type?"
"Yes." Robin found herself half mesmerized by his voice, which fluctuated between a rasp and a roar.
"How fast?" he asked.
"About seventy. Words per minute, that is."
"Pretty good. Take shorthand?"
Robin nodded. He was incredibly good-looking, in a rugged, outdoorsy way, and she hoped it wasn't obvious that she was snatching glances at him above and beyond the ones that were necessary.
"What makes you think you'll make a good secretary?" Nails asked her, meeting her eyes directly with his own. The gray-green orbs burned into her, making her flush. There was something dynamic and forceful about him that both frightened and attracted her.
"I'm a good worker," said Robin. "I've had jobs before. If you want references...."
"Not necessary," said Nails. "You're hired."
Robin's lower lip dropped slightly in surprise, but for a moment no sound came out. "Hired?" she said finally. "You mean, just-"
"Right," said Nails. "Just like that."
"Oh," said Robin. She looked down at her lap for a second, unsure of what to say.
"Why so surprised?" asked Nails.
"Well ... I just thought that ... I mean, don't you want to check my typing or ... something?"
"No," said Nails. "I assume if the agency bothered to send you here, you probably know how to type. Anyway," he said-and Robin wondered if she would have caught his meaning if Jim hadn't told her something about Nails beforehand-"there will be other duties besides typing."
"I see," she said quietly. She was still a bit intimidated by his forcefulness, his confidence. And his uncompromising manliness struck a chord inside her too. She wished she weren't so attracted to him.
"Can you begin tomorrow morning?" Nails asked.
"Why yes." Robin smiled gratefully. "Thank you."
Nails smiled for the first time. "Thank you for accepting the job," he replied.
Robin observed that he was even more attractive when he smiled. It lent a quality of warmth to the powerful, driving executive.
"I think I'm going to enjoy working here," Robin said. She thought briefly about Jim, glad that she'd have an opportunity to get to know him better. And Nails too. Despite a hundred CAUTION signs popping up like wild mushrooms in her head, he intrigued her. She found herself wondering what it would be like to have such a forceful person in bed with her.
"I hope you do enjoy working here," said Nails, breaking in on her miniature daydream. "Now-suppose I tell you a little bit about our paper."
"Fine," said Robin.
"First of all," said Nails, "do you know the name of it?"
"Sure," said Robin, grinning. "It's the INSIDE SCOOP."
"Right," said Nails. His manner gave Robin the impression that he was flirting with her as he talked, testing her, feeling her out. And playing with her a bit, too. She suspected that it was a game he had played many times before and a game at which he was an expert. She warned herself to be on guard.
Nails continued, "It's the INSIDE SCOOP, and it's the fourth largest of these type newspapers with a circulation of about 145,000 copies a week."
"Wow," said Robin. "That's a lot."
"Not really," said Nails. "The largest paper in this field sells well over a million. Now that's a lot."
"Oh," said Robin.
"But that doesn't mean we're not successful," said Nails. He reached into a mahogany box and plucked out a cigar. "Care for one?" he asked, a slight smile on his lips.
Robin suddenly felt like flirting back with him. "Yes, thank you," she said with a straight face.
There was a flicker of surprise in Nails' eyes. He covered it quickly. "I think you'll like these," he dead-panned. He picked one out and handed it to her.
Robin ran it along the underside of her nose, sniffing it the way she'd seen men do it in the movies. "Not bad," she observed.
She peeled the cellophane from it, then paused, unsure which end to place in her mouth. "Hmm," she said. "There doesn't seem to be a hole in one end."
"The sign of a good cigar," said Nails, watching her closely. "You're supposed to bite the end off."
"Oh," said Robin. She handed the unwrapped cigar across the desk to Nails. "Well, on second thought, I don't think I'll have a cigar right now." She grinned at him. "Too soon after breakfast, you know."
"I know what you mean," said Nails, accepting the cigar and placing it back in the box. "And that was a good decision. If you'd have smoked that thing, it would have blown up in your face."
"Really?"
"Really," said Nails with a sly smile. "I keep a couple of loaded cigars handy for just this sort of occasion." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "It's a shame, though. I haven't caught a secretary for almost a year."
Robin started laughing. "You are certainly not the kind of employer I had expected."
"No I'm not," agreed Nails. "And this makes it difficult for some people to work for me. They don't expect to find a human being, and when they do, they don't know how to cope with it."
"You mean the entire staff or just your secretaries?" Robin felt more comfortable with him. The cigar gag had broken the ice.
"Secretaries?" said Nails, his eyes narrowing suddenly. "What makes you think I've had a lot of secretaries?"
"Well...." Robin stopped, not knowing what to say. She hadn't meant to slip up in that way.
"Has somebody been talking to you?"
"No," Robin lied. She was determined, at all costs, to protect Jim's job. "I just wasn't sure what you meant."
Nails considered that for a few seconds. "Okay," he said finally. "As a matter-of-fact, there has been quite a run of secretaries recently. They find me hard to work with, and eventually they walk out. You might as well know that right at the start-I'm not an easy man to get along with."
"I'll try my best," said Robin brightly, thankful to have been let off the hook.
Nails smiled back. "I'm glad. I like a girl with spunk. You did the right thing by accepting that cigar. I like a girl who isn't afraid to pull my leg."
Robin blushed politely.
"Anyway," he said, "I was telling you something about the paper."
"Yes."
"It's the fourth largest of its type in the nation. Most people think it's garbage. But a lot of people read it, and a lot of people like it. That's the market we aim for. If they dig trash, that's their problem, not ours. Our job is simply to give them what they pay their money for. Now-will being involved in an organization such as this bother you?"
"I don't think so," Robin answered promptly.
"Good," said Nails. "There's really no reason that it should." He placed two huge hands on the desk in front of him and stood up. Robin noticed that the backs of his fingers had tufts of brown hair on them. "Now," he said, "come with me."
Robin stood up, feeling very small beside him.
"This way," said Nails, passing around her and leading the way into the office adjoining his own. "This office here will be yours. Like it?"
Robin looked it Over quickly. It had carpeting, just like Nails' office did. And the large mahogany desk in the center of the office looked very official and important. The walls were painted a warm beige, and there were several prints hanging on them.
"I like it very much," said Robin. "Is it all for me?"
"Almost," said Nails with a grin. "Sometimes I drop in, too."
"Oh," said Robin. She stiffened suddenly as she felt Nails' arm drape around her shoulders.
"Have a seat here for a few minutes," Nails said, guiding her over to a small sofa at one end of the room. "We'll talk a bit more before going outside to meet the rest of the staff."
"Okay," said Robin meekly. As she followed Nails obediently to the couch, she tried to bring the trembling inside her under control. She wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Perhaps, she thought, it was the desire to please Nails so as to make good on the job. Then she would be able to be near Jim-who, she had already decided in some typically irrational manner, was going to end up as her husband.
On the other hand, she ruefully admitted to herself, perhaps a great deal of her excitement was being caused by the presence of Nails himself. It was as if messages, cast in electricity, were shooting back and forth between them. And the content of those messages was unmistakable.
"Get comfortable," said Nails easily. "I'll fix you a drink as an official welcome to the INSIDE SCOOP."
"Thank you," said Robin softly. She couldn't stop the butterflies in her stomach. She hoped that Jim wasn't waiting outside and guessing the emotions she was feeling for Nails. But she couldn't help herself.
"Scotch okay?" Nails asked.
"With water please," Robin found herself saying. She was surprised that she was able to control her voice so well.
"Done," said Nails. He fixed them both drinks at a small bar in the corner of the office. Then he brought them over, sat down next to Robin and placed the drinks on a nearby table.
"Thank you," said Robin.
"You're welcome," said Nails. He picked up his glass, waited while Robin raised hers, and then made a brief toast. "Listen," he said, after they'd each taken a few sips, "I haven't given you much chance to say anything. Have you got any questions?"
Robin smiled. The whiskey running warmly down her throat calmed her a bit. "Yes I do," she said impishly. "Two of them."
"Okay, let's hear 'em."
"Tirst of all, how old are you?"
Nails smiled. "Isn't that getting a little personal?"
"You asked me" Robin pointed out.
Nails rubbed his chin with his fingers. "Yes, I did," he conceded. "All right, I'm ... no, wait a minute. How old do you think I am?"
Robin put her finger to her lip and looked at the ceiling. Then she scrutinized Nails carefully. "You're somewhere in your early thirties!" she said.
"Good guess," said Nails. "Thirty-three, to be exact. And this by the way, ought to be a lucky year for me. Thirty-three is made up of three tens and one three. Both three and ten are lucky numbers for me, especially ten."
Robin looked sceptical.
"You don't believe it?" Nails asked.
"Not really," said Robin.
Nails smiled, so that Robin had no idea whether he actually believed in his superstition himself or whether he just used it to make conversation and shock people. "Okay," he said cryptically. "Suit yourself. But you're taking a big chance."
Robin shrugged. She took another sip of whiskey. "I have another question, don't forget."
"All right."
"Why does everybody call you Nails?"
Nails threw back his thick neck and laughed. "Literally because I'm as tough as nails," he explained. "When I was about fourteen, a kid down the block from me taught me the trick of hammering nails into a piece of wood with my fist. The trick is to wrap the head of the nail in a handkerchief first, and then hit it in a certain way.
"Anyway, I picked up this stunt pretty quickly, and for awhile I was one of the few kids in the neighborhood who could do it. So they nicknamed me Nails, and that's what it's been ever since."
"Is it still appropriate?"
Nails boldly took her hand in his. He looked straight into her eyes. "So they tell me," he said.
Robin felt her resistance to him crumbling. She tried to keep her faster breathing from betraying her feelings.
Nails drew her closer to him. She let him take her. He held her face very near his own. "Now I have a couple of questions for you" he said.
"Yes," she said softly. She wanted desperately to kiss him.
"Why did you apply for this job?"
"You mean as a secretary?"
Nails nodded. "Is that your goal in life?"
"No," said Robin. "But the agency told me that if I got a job as a secretary on a newspaper or magazine, it might be a good chance to break into writing."
"I see," said Nails. "What sort of writing do you do?"
Robin curled her lips slightly and smiled. "Oh, nothing special, really. Just a few short stories here and there. And some poems."
"I see," said Nails. He smiled warmly ... or at least it seemed warm to Robin in comparison with his customary smiles.
"Will I have a chance to write here?" Robin asked.
Nails grinned and drew her closer. "You'll have plenty to write home about, I'll tell you that."
She smiled. "That's not what I meant."
"I know," said Nails. "Seriously, I'll see what I can do about breaking you in on a few simple news stories."
"Thank you," said Robin earnestly. "I'll really appreciate that."
"Good," said Nails. "And now I have one more question."
"Go on."
"Are you a virgin?"
Robin stared at him for a second, dumbfounded. "Pardon me?" she said finally.
"You heard me," said Nails. "You don't have to answer that question, but I'm curious."
"I'd rather not answer it," said Robin stiffly. "It is rather personal, you know."
"Yes it is," agreed Nails with a smile. "But we shall find out sooner or later. Or I will, that is-you already know."
Robin lapsed into an embarrassed silence. She sipped her drink awkwardly.
"Come on," said Nails. "I didn't mean to upset you." He drew her into him by her shoulders and brought her lips up close to his. He didn't kiss her.
Robin waited tensely. She was too confused to know what to do. But she knew what she felt like doing.
"Don't be afraid," Nails said soothingly. "I'm not," she whispered.
Then she was kissing him passionately, wishing she could stop, ashamed of having been swept over by him so quickly. His hands ran up and down the small of her back. She shuddered.
"Like that?" he asked softly.
She nodded dizzily.
Nails ran his hand up the inside of her suit jacket, pulled Robin's blouse out of the hem of her skirt and began running his fingers up her bare back.
"Stop," pleaded Robin weakly.
His hands crept upwards. And then slowly around to the front. He cupped her full brassiere with his palms. "You're going to be nice," he said.
Robin slowly shook her head. "Please stop," she said. She felt herself trembling, partly out of fear, but mainly because he had aroused her so fully.
Nails held her silently for a few seconds. A half smile was on his face. Robin, through half-closed eyes, watched it. It was a knowing, confident smile. And it looked as if it had her totally pegged.
"I'd better go," she protested mildly.
"Soon," said Nails.
He began kissing her again, running his lips around her neck. A warm flush passed through her. "Nails!" she said involuntarily.
"Robin," he responded. Vaguely, through her dizziness, she had a feeling that he wasn't nearly as excited as she was, that he was just playing with her, leading her.
She kissed him back, breathing hard, unable to stop herself. Her arms encircled his broad chest. Then she was burying herself in him, kissing him on his neck and arm and hands.
"Easy does it," he cautioned, drawing back a bit.
Robin stopped and looked at him. So he was playing with her after all.
Nails smiled at her. "You're going to work out just fine," he said.
Robin didn't say anything. She drew back from him, disengaged her arms. It was plain that it was Nails who was in charge. He obviously knew he was attractive, and he had no qualms about making use of that quality.
Worse, she was unable to stop him.
She wanted him too much, and he knew it.
"Better get yourself fixed up," Nails said in a chummy tone. "I'll introduce you to the staff."
"Okay," said Robin. She felt sorry that she had succumbed so easily to Nails' charms-and at the same time she felt a vague sense of anticipation. Despite herself, she couldn't wait to get to know him fully.
Robin tucked herself in and fixed her hair. "All set," she said.
"Good," said Nails. He opened the door to the outer office and let Robin pass through. Then he announced in his deep resonant voice: "Staff-we have a new addition. I'd like you to meet Robin West. She's going to begin tomorrow as my new secretary."
The heads of the three writers nodded hello. A disembodied voice from the art department called out, "Pleased to meet you, Robin. I'm Ronnie Baum, the layout man. My hands are full of glue."
Robin laughed. "Hi," she called back.
Nails pointed to each of the three writers in turn and named them. Robin graciously acknowledged each one. Her mood began brightening. It seemed like a friendly office.
"Out in the lobby," Nails went on, "is our receptionist. Follow me."
"I've met her already," said Robin.
"You've met Molly?"
Robin nodded. "Jim introduced me. Say ... where is Jim, anyway?"
"He's out checking a local story," said Nails. "Then he's going up to a photo agency to pick some pictures. He'll be gone most of the day. He's our top man around here, kind of the Managing Editor, I suppose."
A woman, whom Robin judged to be in her fifties, came out of the stockroom and looked up. Nails introduced her immediately. "Robin, meet Sophie Michaels. She's our filer and translator of foreign stories." At Robin's look of uncomprehension, Nails added, "We often use stories which first appeared in French or German publications. It's Sophie's job to translate them for us."
"How do you do," said Robin.
"And finally," said Nails, guiding her to the one office whose door was still closed, "our office manager." He opened the door. Inside, a thin woman of about twenty-five turned around from her desk.
"Zita," said Nails. "My new secretary, Robin West."
"Hi," said Zita. She looked Robin over carefully. Instantly, Robin could sense the jealousy. "Hi," said Robin.
"Zita Charleston is our office manager," said Nails. "She sees to it that everything goes smoothly."
"That I do," said Zita with a cool smile. Robin felt that Zita's eyes were boring into her.
"Zita, suppose you show Robin around just a bit so that she'll be more familiar with things when she starts tomorrow."
"Gladly," said Zita. Robin got the distinct impression that she wasn't particularly glad at all.
Nails smiled. "See you tomorrow, Miss West," he said, patting her meaningfully on the shoulder. "Zita will take care of you." He turned and went back into his office, shutting the door.
"Well," said Zita, making little attempt to conceal the cattiness in her voice, "what would you like to see first?"
Robin shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's up to you,"
"I suppose you've seen plenty of Nails already, so there's no sense...." She trailed off pointedly, smiling slightly.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Robin stiffening.
"You know what I mean." v "I'm afraid I don't," said Robin, getting a little angry-, .
"I'm afraid," Zita insisted, her smile curling up further, "that you do."
"What are you talking about?"
"The lipstick," said Zita sweetly. "The lipstick on Nails' shirt when he came in here."
"It wasn't," Zita continued, "there half an hour ago before you came."
Robin looked at her in angry silence.
"Come on," said Zita, triumphant at the way she had scored her point. "I'll show you where the ladies' room is first-I suppose you'll be wanting to fix yourself up."
Burning with anger and humiliation, Robin followed Zita without a word. There was no question in her mind but that Zita was a troublemaker.
Nor, Robin realized, silently gritting her teeth, was there any question as to just who, at the moment, was going to receive the brunt of Zita's viciousness.
CHAPTER-THREE
At lunch, the following day, Robin told Jim about it.
"I have a feeling that woman's out to get me," she confided. "I've never met anyone so catty in my life."
Jim smiled. "I know what you mean," he said. "She's a real vicious one. Did she bother you this morning? "
Robin shook her head. "No. But I think that was only because she didn't get the chance. I was busy with Nails all morning long."
"That's the reason she's acting the way she is, you know," said Jim.
"Because of Nails?"
"Uh-huh. She's crazy about him. Everybody in the office knows that. Not that Zita makes much of a secret out of it. But Nails couldn't care less about her. He had her once or twice like he's had all his other female employees, and then he lost interest. But Zita is one of the few of Nails' ex-girlfriends who chose to stay rather than run away. She's stubborn. She still thinks she's going to get him one of these days,"
"She must be out of her mind."
"That's the general opinion on her," agreed Jim. "But she continues to make her favorite little joke: 'I'm going to nail Nails, just wait and see.' " Jim grinned. "I've been waiting around two years, and so far she hasn't nailed so much as a carpet tack."
Robin laughed. "I hope she doesn't end up driving any nails into me. She scares me."
Jim looked thoughtful. "I wish I could say forget it, but it's true she could be a very dangerous woman. Jealousy can make people do crazy things, and Zita's got the worst case of envy I've ever seen."
Robin frowned and shook her head. "I can't understand it. Doesn't she know enough to just cool it when she can see she's not wanted?"
"Evidently not," said Jim. "She's afflicted with what the ancient Greeks called hubris. That means 'overweaning pride.' Sort of the feeling Captain Ahab had about the white whale in Moby Dick. She just won't give up until she wins, no matter who she hurts-including herself-in the process."
"I see," said Robin.
Jim shrugged. "In a way I feel sorry for Zita. But that doesn't make any difference. She's still dangerous-and you'll be wise to stay on guard with her."
"I will," said Robin. She smiled at Jim, trying to tell him with her eyes just how much she liked him, and how happy she was that he was concerned about her welfare.
"Anyway," said Jim, "suppose we forget about Zita for the rest of the meal. Tell me how you liked your first morning on the job."
"It was fine," said Robin. She made a face. "Of course, I'm still a bit dizzy from it all. There's so much to learn the first day on a new job. It's like going into a strange kitchen to try to cook a meal-only you don't know where the plates are or anything."
"I know what you mean," said Jim. "But you'll get used to it."
"I know," said Robin.
"And what about Nails? Has he given you any trouble?"
Robin grinned. "Oh no. He's been very helpful."
"What I mean," persisted Jim, "is has he made the usual passes at you?"
"I don't know what's usual," Robin said, carefully parrying the question, "but with me he's been a perfect gentleman."
Jim smiled. "You're sure we're talking about the same person."
Robin nodded. "Oh, I suppose he's come out with a few exploratory leads," she lied. "But nothing I haven't been able to handle."
"Well," Jim said with a sigh, "that's a relief. I'd hate to see you get involved like the previous secretaries."
"Don't worry," said Robin. She knew that Jim was interested in her, and the knowledge made her feel warm and secure. "Anyway," she continued, deftly leading the conversation to less hazardous ground, "tell me a little bit about yourself. You're in and out of the office so much, I never get a chance to talk to you."
Jim smiled, plainly flattered. "All right. What would you like to know?"
"How long have you been with the paper?"
"Two years as of August," Jim said. "After high school I took a year of college, didn't like it, and joined the army for a three-year hitch. When I came out, I got this job. I also decided that college was pretty important after all, so I've been going nights and summers. I figure I've got about two more years to go for a degree."
He took a breath. "And that brings you up to date." He grinned. "Anything else?"
"Of course!" Robin said. "Like, what now? And what do you do on the paper? And what about the nuts you told me about-the ones who come up to the office all the time? "
"Whoa!" said Jim, holding out his hands. "One at a time."
Robin smiled. "You don't like to talk about yourself-I can tell."
"You're forcing me," grinned Jim. "Well, I want to know."
"Okay. First of all, my plans now and for the immediate future are to stay with the INSIDE SCOOP. What I'm really aiming for, though, is to get a job with a good publisher, a place that puts out legitimate books and magazines."
"Then you don't think much of the INSIDE SCOOP, obviously," Robin observed.
"Nobody really does. Except, possibly, the people who buy it. To me, it's just a job-until a better one comes along. I've needed the two years of solid training I got here, but I think I'm just about ready to move on."
Robin pouted. "And just when I get here, too. I hope it's nothing personal."
Jim raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I don't know," he said, going along with her joke. "As soon as I found out you were going to work here, I said to myself, I said, 'Jim, boy, how are you going to get any work done around here with such a pretty face on the premises?' And I answered myself immediately. 'Jim, boy,' I replied firmly, 'You just can't get any work done. It's time to be moseying along. Hit the trail, Jim, boy,' I said to myself. 'Forget about your past. Build a new life someplace ... '"
Robin burst out laughing at Jim's antics. Then she got serious. "I really wish you weren't going," she said.
It was Jim's turn to laugh. "Who said I'm going anywhere?" he said. "I just said I'm looking. It may be months before I find just the right job."
Robin smiled. "I'm glad. It's comforting to have a friend in the office-especially considering all the enemies I seem to have made already."
Jim looked concerned. "You don't really have any enemies. Nails isn't out to hurt you, just to seduce you. And Zita won't hurt you either if you just don't let her get under your skin. Her main line of attack will simply be to make things as miserable for you as possible-in the hopes that you'll quit and leave Nails all to her."
Robin shook her head in wonderment. "Isn't it obvious to her that if I quit, he'd just hire somebody else in my place?"
"I guess not," said Jim. "At any rate, that's her hang-up, and there's not much you can do about it except understand it and learn how to cope with it. And not letting yourself get bugged at her is the best way of coping."
"I'll keep that in mind. I guess everybody else seems pretty friendly." Robin paused for a second. "Except maybe Molly. I'm not too sure about her. She seemed to give me a funny look when I met her yesterday."
"It's your imagination," Jim said-perhaps, Robin noted, just a bit too quickly. Then again, maybe that, too, was only her imagination.
"I guess so," said Robin. She took another bite of her egg salad sandwich and went on brightly, "Well, you still haven't told me exactly what you do on the paper. I mean, do you write the stories or make them up or what?"
Jim stole a french fry from Robin's plate. "A little of both," he said. "You see, Nails runs his paper on a very low budget. That's how come he makes so much profit on each issue. Now, as a result of this, we have to put out a newspaper a little bit differently than, sin , a paper that's willing to spend a lot of money."
"They all look pretty much the same to me," Robin said.
"That's true," agreed Jim. "And it's something of a tribute to our skill that we manage to put out a product that looks as good as the best-and yet do it on a shoestring.
"For example, let's say that we hear a news broadcast in the morning, and it says that a busload of people skidded off a steep mountain pass in Mexico, killing thirty-eight passengers. Now, you can be sure that all the other newspaper editors have heard that broadcast too-as well as an awful lot of people."
"Well what," Robin broke in, "is the sense of doing the story at all, then? I mean, if everybody knows what happened already...."
"Ah, but they don't have the complete story. What's missing are details and pictures. That's where the weekly newspapers come in. The dailies are concerned with immediate news. The weeklies are more like magazines-except with a news format." l see.
"Anyway, what the bigger weeklies will do is get on the phone immediately and call up a newspaper in Mexico that's near the location where the accident took place and say, 'Look, get us some pictures, will you? And get us the full story. And then put a man on a plane, and send him up to our offices immediately. We'll pay all expenses.' "
"Wow," said Robin. "That must come to a fortune."
"It does," said Jim. "Sometimes they even fly their own man down there to get first-hand interviews with the survivors. Unfortunately, we can't possibly compete for that kind of thing, so we have to use a bit of trickery to wind up with the same result."
"Trickery?"
"In a sense, yes. You see, when a story like, say, our mythical bus accident breaks, the other papers get right on the phone to Mexico. But we can't afford even that. So what we do is write a letter asking for all information. That can take as much as three or four weeks sometimes."
Robin smiled. "And by then you've been scooped, right? The INSIDE SCOOP-scooped!"
"On the real story, yes," said Jim. "But it doesn't matter, because what we then do is make up a better story, based on the real one."
"I don't see how you could do much better than a bus crashing off a cliff and killing so many passengers."
"Oh, there's lots that can be done to make it a better story," said Jim. "For example, as it stands now the bus simply skidded on some gravel and went over.
But think how much more of a story it would be if we put some motivation in."
"Motivation?"
"Yes. In other words, provide some human reason for the accident. That gives it more drama."
"I don't think I follow."
"Well, suppose we make it not just one bus, but two. Each bus is jammed with passengers. And each bus is driven by a young, hot-blooded Mexican driver. And these drivers are real mad at each other, because one of them has been playing around with the other's wife. So the other driver has challenged him to a duel-a duel with loaded buses!"
A smile crept over Robin's face. "I'm beginning to see," she said.
"Right," said Jim. "So here we have these two loaded buses, speeding towards each other on a narrow mountain pass. Okay-now we throw in some pathos. That's to make the story even more tragic and heart-rending."
"I know," Robin interrupted. "Instead of the passengers just being unrelated people on their way someplace, they are all members of the same club or something. And they're going on a picnic. How's that?"
"Beautiful," said Jim admiringly. "You really catch on quick. But that's not all."
"You mean there's more you can put into the story?"
"Absolutely. For instance, a dash of irony always helps. Now, I'm stretching things a bit here, but let's say that the club these people belonged to was a club formed to try to apply pressure to the government to outlaw dueling in Mexico. And just the day before they managed to get an anti-dueling law passed. So now they're celebrating by throwing a picnic-and wham! They get bumped off by two bus drivers having a duel-with them as weapons!"
Robin grinned with delight. "It's amazing what you can do." She thought for a second. "But what if Mexico already had an anti-dueling law? What could you do then?"
"Simple," said Jim. "Just change the name of the country. Make it Sicily, maybe."
"Sicily may not have mountain passes."
"Fine. Then we'll make it Argentina. Or we'll leave it in Sicily, and have the buses crash head-on and then careen into a lake."
"Wow."
"Then we get pictures," Jim continued. "These we buy from photo agencies here in the city for a very low price. Then we print a picture of an overturned bus, a few pictures of dead bodies and a couple of mug shots of the two drivers. Then we write the story, including a juicy quote by one of the drivers, overheard by one of the survivors just before the driver died. I'm sorry I hurt so many people,' he says weakly, blood running out of the side of his mouth, 'but that's the way it goes, I guess. At least I got my revenge.' Then he coughs, goes into convulsions and dies."
"And people believe this?" asked Robin.
"Wouldn't you?"
She thought for a moment. "You know, I guess I would. You make it seem so real."
"That's my job," said Jim with a trace of pride. "And I'm good at it."
"But you want to leave, right?" said Robin.
Jim grinned broadly and made a face indicating how revolted he was by it all after two years. "As quickly as possible!"
Robin laughed with him. "I know you'll get a great job real soon," she said. "I've got my fingers crossed."
"Thanks," said Jim. He glanced at his watch. "Hey, I guess we'd better get upstairs," he said.
"So soon?" Robin pouted. "You haven't even told me about the nuts who come up to the office."
"Some other time," said Jim. "Meanwhile we'd better get ourselves up to the office. Nails is a decent boss in many ways, but, like all bosses, he gets pretty hacked if his employees start chiseling time from him."
"Okay," said Robin. She took a last puff on the cigarette she had lit while Jim was talking, squashed it out and stood up. She paid for her own check, although Jim insisted on leaving the tip.
As they walked back to the office together, Robin felt in a jaunty mood. She could tell that Jim liked her, and the feeling was growing more mutual with every minute she spent with him She was also thrilled with her new job, and determined to make good at it. And maybe someday, she thought wistfully, she'd be as good a writer as Jim was.
"Robin," he said.
"Yes?" She knew by his tone what he was about to say.
"Are you busy this Friday evening?"
"No." She waited for him to go on, not wanting to seem too anxious right at the beginning. "Would you like to go out with me?" Robin smiled. "I'd love to, Jim."
Jim smiled back, obviously relieved that she had accepted. "Great. Suppose I pick you up at your house around eight?"
"That will be fine. Do you have my address?"
"No."
"I'll give it to you." She reached into her pocket book and rummaged around till she located a ballpoint pen. "Here it is," she said. Then, with a grin, "A good writer is never without his tools and equipment."
"Right," said Jim, beaming at her. He copied down her address in his notebook.
"Oh, there's just one thing," said Robin.
"What's that?"
"I want you to promise me something." She said it very soberly.
"What?" asked Jim. He looked a little worried.
Robin burst out laughing. "I want you to promise to tell me about the nuts in the office!" she half-shouted at him.
Jim grinned. "You've got yourself a deal," he said. "I promise."
"And I," said Robin, returning her pen to her pock-etbook with a flourish, "most humbly accept your invitation."
Laughing, they walked back to the office together. Robin felt as if she were riding on air. She wished she could take Jim's hand as it swung along beside her and hold it. But she didn't dare. She felt happy and full of fun.
When they got upstairs, Nails called Robin into his office.
"Nice lunch?" he inquired, smiling at her. "Marvelous," said Robin.
"How about topping it off with a nice dinner, then?"
Robin looked at him. "You mean-?"
"I mean tonight right after work. There's this fabulous French restaurant I know of, and I'm sure you'd enjoy it."
Robin smiled, flattered. "Why thank you," she said. "I'd love to join you."
"Done," said Nails. "Oh," he said, as Robin prepared to go back to her own desk, "one more thing."
"Yes?"
"I'll ask you once again, Robin. Are you a virgin?"
Robin smiled, not caught off guard this time. "I won't tell you," she said coyly.
Nails smiled significantly. "It doesn't matter," he said coolly. "You won't be at the end of this evening, in any case."
Robin returned his smile with a sweet one of her own, but said nothing.
She walked over to her desk and sat down. She pursed her lips in amusement.
"That," she thought to herself, "is what you think."
Then she got down to work.
CHAPTER-FOUR
As Nails had promised, the restaurant was lavish.
"Like it?" asked Nails, helping her out of her light topcoat and handing it to the lady in the hatcheck booth.
"Wow," said Robin.
Nails smiled. "Would you care to elaborate on that statement?"
"It's really something," said Robin. She looked around in awe. The entire restaurant reposed in the warm glow of hundreds of candles, flickering gently from the walls and the tables. The floor was thickly carpeted, and handsomely-framed oil paintings hung from the upholstered walls.
"If you think the decor is something, wait'll you try the food," said Nails. "It's hard to believe they can really do such wonderful things to a simple piece of steak."
A stiffly-dressed gentleman came over to them and smiled obsequiously. "This way please, Mr. Orient," he said with a small bow.
Robin and Nails followed him to a small table in a corner of the room.
"Will this be okay?" asked the man. "Fine," said Nails.
Robin sat down and grinned across the table at Nails. "It seems like they've got more waiters than customers," she observed.
"Oh, they specialize in good service," said Nails. "They're so good at it that they often know what a patron wants even before he knows it himself."
"Amazing," said Robin. Her eyes glistening with enjoyment, she watched as the waiters and busboys hovered around their table, fixing it up for the meal.
A waiter bent over and asked, "What kind of dressing on your salad, ma'm?"
"Uh...." Robin hesitated.
"Try the Blue Cheese," Nails suggested.
"What's that?"
"It's a special dressing they import from France. It's really great."
"Okay," said Robin. Then, in a lower voice, she said mischievously to Nails, "Are you sure they won't be insulted if we don't get the French dressing? I mean, it's a French restaurant and all...."
Nails grinned. "Don't worry about it. De Gaulle is too busy to notice. In fact, you might even get away with not ordering French fried potatoes."
The waiter cleared his throat. "Blue Cheese on both salads, then?" he asked.
"Yes," said Nails.
Other employees began arriving at the table, each of them with a different commodity, from rolls to plates of celery and olives to dishes of butter and jellies.
"It's like a bucket brigade," said Robin. "That it is," said Nails.
"And what's this?" she asked, pointing to one of the platters.
"Chokecherries," he said chimerically.
"With what else? inquired Nails loftily.
"May I have drink?" asked Robin.
"Certainly." Nails had barely to look up before a waiter was standing by. "We'll order cocktails first," he said. "Robin, what would you like?"
"A daiquiri would be nice," Robin said.
"Fine," said Nails. Then, to the waiter, "Two daiquiris, please. Not too tart."
"Yessir," said the waiter. He left to fill the order.
Nails looked across the table at Robin and smiled. "Well," he said with a sigh, "now we can relax."
Robin smiled back at him. But she made a note to herself not to let herself relax in the least. Nails was too attractive and experienced to handle casually. If she didn't watch herself, Robin realized, she would be easily overcome by his charms-and that would never do, since the man she really wanted was Jim.
Nails said, "How do you like the job so far?"
"Fine," said Robin. "It's a little hectic yet, but I'll be oriented in a few days."
Nails grinned at her unintentional choice of words. "Oriented, indeed," he said.
"I didn't mean it that way," Robin said, blushing.
Nails reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his. He looked directly into her eyes. She felt a slight tremor run through her. He was so bold, so sure of himself.
"Why do you keep resisting me," he asked her. It was not a plea, but simply an expression of curiosity. He could as easily have been asking for the daily stock quotations, for all the emotion there was in his voice.
Robin tried to parry him. "Business is business, you know," she piped gaily.
"Right," said Nails, a slight smile on his lips. "And pleasure is pleasure. So where does that leave us?"
"Well, I mean," said Robin, "I usually don't like to mix the two. Now, what kind of a secretary would I be to you if all I did was bat my eyelashes at you rather than type up letters?"
"An excellent one, in my opinion," Nails grinned. He squeezed her hand and drew it a bit closer to him.
Robin shuddered. She found herself wanting him, and quickly put the thought out of her mind.
"You know, don't you," said Nails, "that sooner or later we are going to become lovers?"
Robin laughed uneasily. "I know nothing of the kind," she countered.
Nails looked at her skeptically. "Yes you do," he said. "The only question is when."
Robin slid her hand out of his. "How about ten years from now?" she suggested coyly.
"I'm busy then," said Nails, smiling. "So what do you say we simply make it tonight?"
Robin looked at him sweetly. "Gosh, I'm awful sorry," she said, "but I've got to get to bed early tonight so I'll be bright and fresh for my job tomorrow."
"I'm sure your boss will understand," said Nails.
"Oh no," said Robin. "He gets very angry if anybody comes in tired. He might even fire me."
"He might," said Nails pointedly, "fire you if you don't come in exhausted tomorrow."
Robin burst out laughing. "Foul! Foul! That's unfair coercion."
Nails chuckled. "You're right," he admitted. "But that's all right. We'll get there by another route."
"Never," said Robin with a grin. "Never say never on a Tuesday."
"I mean it."
"Okay," said Nails with a sigh, "you mean it. Anyhow, here are our drinks. We'll discuss the affair between you and me later. Will you drink to that?"
Robin laughed. "I'm not sure what I'm drinking to-but, okay, I'll drink to it."
"Fine," said Nails, lifting his glass and clinking it against Robin's. "That will be acceptable for now."
Robin smiled and sipped on her drink, noting how good it tasted. Almost, she thought, like lemonade. She made a mental note to allow herself no more than two during the evening.
She also made a mental resolution to be on guard against Nails' advances. There wasn't the slightest doubt in her mind that he was going to try again. Worse, there was a good deal of doubt in her mind about her ability to resist him.
She looked at him across the table from her and noticed, once again, how fantastically attractive he was. Not just his looks-which were a cross between dashing and distinguished-but his manner. He was so sure of himself, so cocky, so experienced. It was almost as if he could see right into her and know all about the excitement he made her feel.
The knowledge that a big newspaper publisher wanted her flattered Robin. It made her feel grownup, and she reveled in the relatively new sensation.
"Soup looks good this evening," Nails said, as the waiter placed two steaming bowls before them.
"Onion is my favorite," said Robin. She placed her napkin on her lap and began eating.
As she ate, she surreptitiously glanced down at her body, giving it a quick spot-check to make sure it was worthy of all the attention Nails was showering upon both it and her. She was reassured that she had nothing to be ashamed of. The medium-low cut of her dress exposed the smooth pink upper portion of her full breasts. And below that, she knew, was a trim waist and a well-rounded rump that needed no corseting to keep it where it belonged.
Nails caught one of her glances and guessed what she was looking at. "Yes," he said, "you look just perfect."
Robin blushed, "I didn't mean to appear vain," she apologized.
"Not at all," said Nails. "You appear just fine. I was looking too."
Robin smiled. "Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome," said Nails gallantly. He tipped an imaginary hat. "Of course," he added, "you know what that means, don't you?"
"What what means?"
"The fact that you were giving yourself the onceover."
"No," said Robin, smiling. "What?"
"It means you like me and want to make sure you look all right for me."
"Really?" said Robin, feigning doubt.
"Really," said Nails. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course."
Robin laughed. "You won't give up, will you?"
"No I won't," said Nails. "And you know as well as I do that you don't want me to."
"That's not true," said Robin. A moment's reflection, however, made her realize that it was true indeed.
"You can say whatever you like," said Nails confidently, "but it won't change the facts."
"All right," said Robin with a grin. "If I can't change the facts, then how about the subject? Why don't we talk about something else-the food, for instance?"
"Okay," said Nails agreeably. Robin realized that nothing she could say would upset him. He was plainly playing a game with her, and clearly intended to persist at it until he won.
As they ate the meal-making a big joke out of discussing it right down to the minutest detail-Robin tried to give some careful thought to just how she did feel about Nails, and why she was resisting him with such determination.
It was not, she thought with an inner smile, any last-ditch effort to preserve her virginity. That-although Nails didn't know it-had been lost over a year earlier with her boyfriend.
No, it was more a matter of caution than anything else. Privately, Robin admitted to herself that she would have loved to go to bed with Nails. But she knew very well that once she did, the entire office-in one way or another-would know about it.
And that included Jim.
That, above all, was what Robin wanted to avoid. For, more and more, she was beginning to fall for Jim. She sensed, too, that he liked her in the same way. Moreover, she knew absolutely that if he heard that she was promiscuous, he would lose the respect for her which she knew was essential to a lasting relationship.
And by lasting, she meant forever.
It just wouldn't do, she reminded herself once again, to get intimately involved with Nails. No, the next-and only-intimacy had to be with Jim.
Still, she thought hopefully, it had better happen quickly. It had been a number of months since she'd been with her boyfriend back home-and with each passing day the desire to be in a man's arms grew stronger and stronger.
Nails, of course, wasn't making it any easier for her.
"Well," he said, as they finished the last crumb of French pastry and began sipping their coffee, "how'd you enjoy the meal?"
"It was marvelous!" said Robin, smiling. "It was just great."
"I'm glad you liked it."
"I'm so full I can hardly move."
"No need to," said Nails. "Just sit there and relax. Care for a cigarette?"
"Thank you," said Robin.
Nails gave her a cigarette and lit it for her. Then he got out of his seat and moved over so that he was sitting in the chair next to her. "More intimate this way," he explained.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Robin answered.
"Don't be afraid. Sit back and enjoy me. You know you want to."
"Please don't do anything," Robin said.
She might as well have said nothing at all. Ignoring her, Nails placed his hand beneath the table and rested it on Robin's knee.
"Don't do that," she said. "Why not?" Nails asked.
"Because," she replied in a burst of honesty, "I like it. And I'd rather not get involved."
Nails smiled. "You already are involved," he observed.
Immediately, Robin regretted her honesty. "I'm not going any further," she insisted.
"Okay," Nails humored her. "You're not going any further."
He rubbed his hand gently over her knee. Robin tingled at the touch. Even through the material of her stockings, the motion aroused her. She tried to keep her face from showing her feelings.
"You can put your hand on my knee, too," Nails offered.
Robin laughed nervously. "No thank you," she said.
"All right," said Nails. "Later for that."
Boldly, he let his hand travel up Robin's leg, caressing her full, firm thighs, running his fingers from the inside to the outside, and then back again. Always, though, he kept going higher.
When he'd reached the tops of her stockings, Robin reached her own hand below the tablecloth and stopped him. "No more," she warned. Her breath was coming more rapidly, and she was sweating slightly.
Nails gripped her hand in his own. "Yes," he said firmly. "More."
Robin looked into his eyes pleadingly. "No, Nails. Please, no."
As if she had said nothing at all, Nails detached her hand from around his and continued playing with her thighs. His fingers were groping and squeezing and rubbing softly. "You feel warm," he said.
"I am," Robin breathed. "Now stop it, Nails. Please."
"I'll see what I can do," he said obligingly. "Hand," he said, addressing the limb that was half-hidden by the tablecloth, "the lady requests that you cease and desist."
Despite herself, Robin smiled nervously.
"Hand," Nails repeated more firmly when he got no reply, "did you hear what I said?"
He waited a few seconds, leaving his hand on Robin's thigh. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Can't seem to make contact," he said apologetically. "Suppose I try again in five minutes and call you back."
Robin smiled, and Nails' hand crept up still further. His fingertips were brushing against her panties. She felt herself tremble as he caressed her Her legs parted slightly. Her face was a bright red, and she prayed that the darkness of the restaurant would conceal what was happening.
"You see how much fun dinner can be," Nails ob-served merrily.
Robin was too excited to do more than nod.
"Shall we go someplace more private?" Nails asked.
"Yes," Robin whispered urgently. "Yes."
"My place?"
She shook her head. "No, mine."
"Fine," said Nails. Keeping his hand busy on her thigh, he signaled the waiter with his other hand. Within five minutes, everything was taken care of.
"Come on," said Nails, standing up and pulling out Robin's chair for her. "Let's go."
Slipping her arm through his, Robin followed Nails out to the street. He hailed a taxi.
"I can hardly wait," said Nails, helping her into the cab.
"Neither can I," said Robin.
As the cab pulled away from the curb, Robin wondered briefly whether it had been right for her to lie as she had.
At any rate, she reflected with some satisfaction, Mr. Edward Orient was headed for a big surprise.
A surprise in the form of Laura Dunn-Robin's roommate.
CHAPTER-FIVE
Nails put his arm around Robin's shoulder and drew her close to him. "We have more privacy here," he observed.
"Yes we do," said Robin blandly. She had cooled off somewhat since the incident in the restaurant, and now all she wanted was for the taxi to get her home as fast as possible-that is, before Nails got her all excited and confused again.
The chances of that happening, however, didn't look good. Nails was making a sure, steady assault upon her in the back seat of the cab, and once again Robin found herself responding to him against her will.
She tried to fight it. "Not here," she said as calmly as she could. "Wait till we get home."
"Why?" asked Nails, but playfully; not because he wanted or expected an answer.
Robin tried to gently squirm out of his grasp. "I do wish you'd wait," she said again.
"Why?" said Nails. "I find the back seats of automobiles extremely conducive to this sort of thing."
"Well, I don't."
"Again," Nails pointed out, "you keep saying things you don't mean."
"Well, this I do mean."
Nails smiled. "Like hell," he said. He brought her close to him and kissed her on the lips. She sat there passively, stubbornly refusing to return it.
"Come on," he prompted.
She shook her head.
"Okay," he said, "We'll try again."
He brought her head towards him and kissed her on the lips once more. Robin sat there stiffly, trying to ignore the tongue darting out at her, playing at the corners of her lips, prying them open and trying to reach inside.
"No," she murmured. And as she opened her mouth to utter the word, Nails jammed his tongue inside.
"Stop," she tried to say. But it was sliding around inside her mouth, climbing over her teeth, pressing against the roof and sides of her jaw.
She tried to push it out with her own tongue. Then, moments later, she was no longer pushing, but caressing.
"Atta girl," said Nails after they'd kissed passionately for a few minutes. "That's the way to do it."
Robin drew back from him and tried to catch her breath. She smiled ruefully. "I didn't mean to do that," she said.
"That's all right," said Nails. "I forgive you." Robin laughed. "You shouldn't have made me do that. I told you I didn't want to."
"I know. But you were so obviously fibbing." Robin grinned. "I was not!"
"Was too," said Nails, mimicking a little boy. "At any rate, where'd you ever learn to kiss like that? I thought you told me you weren't a virgin."
"I never said I wasn't a virgin," said Robin coyly. "And as for kissing like that, I picked it up just a few moments ago-from you."
Nails smiled. "I'm flattered," he said. "Then you're not a virgin, eh?"
"I didn't say that, either," Robin countered deftly. "You just won't let the subject drop, will you?"
"It's become a game now," said Nails.
"You'll find out soon enough." Robin wondered if it were fair to be leading him on as she was. Then she decided that it served him right-for being so persistent.
"Yes, I guess I will find out soon enough," Nails said. "Like in about ten minutes."
"Perhaps."
"What do you mean, perhaps? I thought we're going to your house."
"Yes,' said Robin with a secret smile. "We are."
"Good," said Nails, unaware that Robin's roommate awaited them there. "Let's get warmed up now."
Before Robin could protest, Nails was kissing her again. Then she didn't want to protest.
"Nails," she moaned softly. "Oh, Nails."
He kissed her earlobe. "You're beautiful," he said softly.
"Don't say that." She pressed his face into her neck, playing with the hair on the back of his head.
"You're beautiful," he repeated.
She giggled at his refusal to listen to her. "How come you're so attractive?" she said.
Nails shrugged. "Good genes."
"I bet you have lots of women." Nails frowned modestly. "Who me?" She laughed. "Yes, you. And stop putting me on."
"Okay," said Nails. "Anything to accommodate the lady."
He began unbuttoning her light topcoat. Then he slipped it around her shoulders and let it fall against the leather seat behind her.
"You're trying to undress me," she warned.
"I'm succeeding," he observed mildly.
She giggled. "Stop that."
"I can't," Nails replied. With mock earnestness, he once again tried to command his hands to stop. "Hands," he ordered severely, "I'm warning you."
They both watched in amusement as Nails' hands continued to caress her neck and shoulders.
"It's no use," he said finally, shaking his head. "They just refuse to-listen."
Robin smiled. "Maybe amputation is called for."
"I'll think about it."
Nails placed his hands directly on her breasts and held them tightly. She gave a soft cry at the suddenness of the motion. Then, as she felt him firmly pressing against her, she became swept up in her own desire for him.
Her heart began pounding. Deep down inside of her, something began churning and trembling. She felt her legs separate slightly, and they tightened.
"Not here," she whispered in his ear.
"You keep saying that," he said softly.
"I mean it."
"You keep saying that too."
She didn't answer. His face was too close, his lips too inviting. She kissed him passionately. She wished that the driver could just melt away and that the taxi could magically be transported to a vacant lot someplace.
Nails' hands were fumbling with the buttons to her blouse. He spread the two edges of the garment apart, exposing Robin's firm breasts, held in only by her brassiere. He rubbed it with his hands until Robin's neck was arched back in ecstasy and she was sighing softly.
"Shall I stop?" Nails asked.
She shook her head, hardly aware of what she was saying, yet vaguely aware that it wouldn't make any difference to Nails anyway.
He ran his hands around her sides and fumbled with the catch to her brassiere. It came loose, and he drew it around to the front and removed it.
Robin hunched herself together modestly. She glanced up to see if the driver could see her in his mirror. He couldn't.
Then she exposed herself again as Nails brought his face close to her breasts and nuzzled his nose between them. He ran his fingers gently around the outsides of I her breasts, pressing them in to his ears. Then his fingers crept up to the tip, darting there and then away again, and then settling there till they were taut and trembling, and Robin was panting with desire.
"Oh Nails, you've got to stop," she pleaded.
"Uh-uh," he mumbled.
Now his lips were darting around the edges of her nipples, kissing them, sucking on them, biting them. "Oh no," she cried.
Nails didn't answer. He kissed her over and over again, burrowing into her like a madman. And then his hands left Robin's throbbing breasts and raced down along her body to her legs.
"Stop!" Robin panted excitedly. "Nails, you're insane. You've got to stop."
He caressed her calves, hurrying on to the thighs, squeezing their fleshiness till he heard her whimper. Then he was at her panties, clawing and caressing frantically.
"No, no! Not that! Not here!" she whimpered.
His hands pulled at her panties, sliding them over her buttocks and down to her ankles. While he was there, removing her panties, he removed her high-heeled shoes as well.
Now Nails adjusted Robin in the seat. Robin followed dutifully as he moved her.
Then Nails was desperately removing his own pants, and moments later she felt him naked against her.
"Not here," she cried weakly.
But he wasn't listening, and she really didn't care anyway. Deliriously, she gave herself up to him, oblivious of the driver in the front seat and the wild bouncing of the taxi through the dark city streets.
"Oh Nails!" she moaned crazily. "Nails!"
He drove himself relentlessly against her, and as she felt his thrashing body, she squirmed and moved violently to meet it. Wildly, she rose to a crescendo of excitement, in which the taxi, Nails and herself were all one madly exploding entity.
Then the explosion died slowly away, and she slumped exhausted into a corner of the seat.
She breathed deeply for a few minutes. Then she lifted her head, sat up and straightened out her clothes. She reached down for the panties, groped for them on the floor, then pulled them on.
She looked at Nails and smiled sheepishly. "Well, what do you know about that," she said.
"Yes," said Nails, "what do you know." He looked serenely drained.
"I bet you're real proud of yourself." She nudged him affectionately with her elbow.
Nails ignored the jab. "So you weren't a virgin after all, were you," he said.
"No, I wasn't. There was just one before you. My old boyfriend."
"I see," said Nails. "I gather he's not your current boyfriend."
Robin laughed. "He sure isn't."
The taxi pulled over to the curb in front of Robin's apartment.
"Here we are," said Nails. He reached for his wallet. Robin stopped him. "You'd better not come in," she said.
Nails looked at her questioningly. "Not come in?" Robin smiled coyly. "My roommate is home."
"Roommate?"
"Yes. Her name is Laura. I met her through an ad in the paper."
Nails smiled as comprehension came to him. "I see," he said. "So you only invited me here on a wild goose chase, eh? You knew your roommate was home all along."
Robin smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to teach you a lesson," she explained ruefully. "I guess it didn't quite work out that way."
Nails laughed merrily. "No, I guess it didn't." Robin, smiling, opened the door to the cab. "Goodnight, Nails," she said. "See you in the morning."
"Goodnight," said Nails.
Then the cab was receding down the street, and as Robin walked slowly into her building, she wondered whether she would see Nails in the morning. Or anybody, for that matter.
For it was certain, she reflected, that by morning everybody in the office would know that she had been intimate with her boss.
Worst of all, Jim would know too.
And that would be the end of that.
CHAPTER-SIX
Fortunately, Nails didn't utter a word.
Or even a knowing glance. As he explained it to her the next morning, "Boasting about this sort of thing is adolescent. What I do with my friends is my business, and it goes no further."
Robin smiled and relaxed a little. "I was a bit worried, you know."
"Well, don't worry anymore. Of course, that doesn't mean you shouldn't be on your guard at all times. You see, I have something of a reputation when it comes to women, and therefore every new secretary who comes to work for me is immediately suspect."
"I've heard about those other secretaries," said Robin, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smile.
"Maybe so," countered Nails flippantly. "But what you've heard is nothing but rumor. Only me and the secretaries themselves know what really happened. And, as I just pointed out, my lips are sealed."
Robin grinned. "Okay with me. In fact, it makes me that much more confident that you'll be discreet about us."
"I'm glad. And speaking about us," he continued, pointing to the door leading to the outer office, "why don't you just flip the lock on that thing there and come into my private office for a little while?"
Robin smiled coquettishly. "Oh no! I know very well what you have in mind, and you can forget it."
She was sitting behind her desk, and Nails reached out and touched her arm. "Have you forgotten last night?" he teased.
Robin teased him back. "How could I ever forget last night," she swooned. "I'll treasure its poignant memory for as long as I live." She pretended she was going to faint.
Nails laughed. "Now look," he complained, "stop playing games or I'll dock your pay. I'm a busy man. Now come on into my office."
Robin smiled calmly and shook her head. "No, Nails. I'm sorry."
He stared at her for a moment. "Did you really forget what happened last night?" he asked seriously.
Robin shook her head, also seriously. "No," she said, "I didn't."
"Didn't you enjoy it?" He paused but a moment. "Of course you enjoyed it. It was obvious."
Robin nodded her agreement. "Yes, I did enjoy it. You're extremely attractive. Too attractive."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, you're so attractive I might end up falling for you."
Nails grinned. "So?"
"So I don't want to," she smiled back.
"Why not?"
"Several reasons." She was serious again. "First of all, sooner or later the office staff would find out about us, and then I'd feel pretty silly."
"I don't think that's likely," said Nails. "But go on. What's reason number two?"
"Reason number two," said Robin, "is that I've heard stories about how you treat your 'women' after you tire of them." She smiled. "Apparently you don't treat them very nicely."
"A lie!" Nails protested, half-smiling. "A lie!"
"Anyway...."
"Listen," interrupted Nails. "Who told you that, anyway? Did Jim tell you? No, it must have been Zita. She's always been jealous. I'm sure it was her."
"I won't tell you who it was," Robin said. "Anyway, my final reason does have to do with Jim."
"Jim?"
"Yes. I kind of like Jim, and I wouldn't want to risk losing his respect."
Nails smiled at her in silence for a few seconds. "So you're in love with Jim," he said finally. "Well, well, well."
"Not in love," Robin corrected. "I hardly even know him."
"But you want to fall in love with him, is that it?"
Robin grinned. "You might put it that way."
"I just did," said Nails. He looked at her in silence again. Finally, he said, "You know, I admire you, Robin. I like your honesty. I'm glad you told me. I appreciate it."
Robin smiled. "I'm glad."
"However," Nails continued, the seductive smile on his face again, "don't think that that's going to make me stop seducing you."
Robin shook her head. "You'll just be wasting your time. I've decided what I want, and, much as I may want to, I'll never go to bed with you again."
"Sure you will," said Nails confidently.
Robin slid gracefully away as he made a lunge for her, and skittered towards the door. "Never again," she said.
Nails smiled confidently and walked back into his own office. "Sure you will," he said before shutting the door. "And you know it as well as I do."
At lunchtime, Zita invited Robin to join her at a downstairs restaurant. Reluctantly, Robin agreed. After all, she told herself, there was no point in trying to avoid the lady. She might as well be faced up to, understood, and then-as Jim had counseled her-coped with.
But that was easier said than done.
"How do you like the job so far?" queried Zita for openers.
"Just fine," said Robin guardedly. She knew that Zita hadn't invited her to lunch just to chat. She had invited her because she wanted something. What it was, though, Robin didn't yet know. Probably, she guessed, it was information about Nails.
She didn't have to wait long to be proved correct.
"What do you think of Nails?" Zita inquired.
"I think he's very nice," Robin said noncommittally. "What do you think of him?"
"The same," said Zita. "He's just a great, great guy."
Robin watched Zita carefully as she spoke. Again, as on the first day she had met the office manager, Robin felt the envy radiating from her body. The thin face looked almost like a hatchet, although it was not unattractive. But her pale lips had a habit of curling up at the edges when she talked-as if serving the function of a safety valve allowing the hate inside to escape. Robin didn't like her at all.
"You know," said Zita, as if the thought had just come to her, "I was just wondering how Molly and Jim are enjoying themselves now."
Robin dipped her head inquisitively.
"I mean, they're having lunch together today at some restaurant across town. I was just wondering if they were having a good time."
"I wouldn't know," said Robin. She tried to feign disinterest, but she was too curious. She knew that Zita could sense her eagerness to know more about the subject.
Zita quickly obliged. "They've been seeing a lot of each other," she said in a gossipy tone. "You knew that, didn't you?"
"I never paid too much attention," Robin bed.
"Well," Zita went on, "they've been seeing each other for months now. Everybody knows about it. They're really having a swinging little affair together."
"Really," said Robin.
"Yes," Zita laughed. "And the wildest thing is, they think nobody knows about it."
Robin frowned. "Maybe if you .didn't talk about it so freely they wouldn't," she observed sharply.
Zita smiled, but Robin could tell that it was only face deep. "Why get so upset?" Zita asked. "It couldn't be that you have your sights set on Jim, could it?"
"Of course not," said Robin. She was starting to get angry. And also, in the back of her mind, a germ of doubt had been planted. "Then why get so upset?"
"I'm not upset," said Robin. She disliked having been put on the defensive. "You sure look it."
"All I am," said Robin with forced calm, "is a little annoyed at the way you're gossipping about people. For all you know, there may be nothing happening between Jim and Molly at all."
Zita shrugged. "You have only to look at them yourself to see."
"You can't tell anything by looking at two people."
"You certainly can," said Zita. "The looks that pass between those two are unmistakable."
An image of the first time she had met Molly flashed through Robin's mind. And in all frankness, Robin realized, the look Molly had given to Jim at that time had seemed meaningful indeed. Perhaps Zita was right after all. Still, she had no right to gossip.
"I think you're mistaken," said Robin stubbornly.
"I don't think so," said Zita. Then, her eyes narrowing to slits, her mouth curling up into a thin, grotesque smile, she added, "And speaking of meaningful looks, I haven't been totally unaware of the looks you've been giving Jim yourself in these last couple of days."
Robin looked at her sharply. "Don't be ridiculous," she said.
Zita kept pushing. "I'm not being ridiculous. It's quite obvious to anybody who has eyes."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I do think you're jealous," said Zita. Robin's jaw tightened angrily. "I'm not jealous of anyone," she snapped. "It's you who seem to be jealous of the whole world."
Zita smiled sweetly. "I haven't the vaguest idea what you mean."
"Like hell you don't," Robin said. "It's common knowledge that you're in love with Nails, and-"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. And it bugs you that I'm his private secretary, and that I'm closer to him than you are."
"Just how close?" Zita said nastily.
"That's my business," Robin shot back. "But the point is that you're a fine one to talk about jealousy, when you're about the greenest person in the whole office."
"Now hold on there," said Zita.
"Hold on yourself," said Robin. "All you are is a troublemaker. All you're trying to do is cause confusion and distrust in the office by spreading your vicious lies about people. Well, I think that's disgusting. And as far as I'm concerned, you can eat lunch by yourself from now on. I don't care to associate with you."
"Now, wait a minute...." Zita protested.
But Robin was up and gone already.
Still fuming, Robin paid the check and walked out onto the street. The cool autumn air swirled around her refreshingly. Slowly, she began walking back to the office.
Her mind was not at ease, however. It was obvious to her that Zita was extremely jealous of her, and her conversation at lunch had been a thinly-veiled attempt to get her to leave. It was plain that Zita's remarks about Jim and Molly were meant merely to upset her.
Clearly, Zita felt that Robin had a crush on Jim-and by telling Robin that Jim was having an affair with somebody else, she hoped to make Robin quit her job at the newspaper, and thus leave the road to Nails clear for Zita herself.
Still, there remained that tiny germ of doubt.
Could Zita have been right after all? Could Jim really be having an affair with Molly?
Robin prayed with all her heart that it wasn't true.
In any event, she decided, she had a date for the coming Friday with Jim anyway.
Then, she thought a little apprehensively, she would find out for sure.
CHAPTER-SEVEN
The rest of the week, as Robin had expected, passed slowly.
Jim was out on assignments most of the time, and she hardly got to talk to him for more than five minutes at a stretch.
Such was not the case with Nails. She was in contact with him continually, and not once-when he was alone with her-did he let up in his confident campaign to make love to her again.
It was tempting, too. The better she got to know him, the more attractive qualities he seemed to acquire. He had a sense of humor, Robin realized. And he was extremely generous. And worst of all, she thought ruefully, he was so damned attractive physically!
Still, she had managed to resist his charms. It was Jim she wanted. And even though she had been intimate with Nails, she felt she had an obligation to Jim to limit the intimacy to just that one time.
At least, she told herself, till she found out if there was going to be any kind of a future with Jim.
And the harsh sound of her apartment buzzer suddenly informed her that she was about to embark on finding out.
She gathered up her things, flicked off the light and stepped out of the apartment. She locked the door. Then she hurried down the steps to meet Jim at the street.
"Hi," he said warmly as she emerged from the building-
"Hi," she responded. "Hey, you look real good."
"Thank you," she blushed.
He held out his arm, and she took it. "It's good to see you again," he said with a smile. "I hardly ever see you in the office."
"I know," said Robin. "You're always out on assignments."
"I can't understand it," said Jim. "It's rare that I'm out so much in one week."
The thought flew through Robin's mind that perhaps Nails was sending Jim out on assignments purposely-so that Robin would have less time to get to know him. But she wasn't sure, so she decided not to mention it. Instead, she said, "I bet you have a lot of fun, going out on different stories and all."
"Oh, it's okay. You get tired of anything."
"I guess so."
Jim unhooked her arm and pulled a newspaper out of his other arm. "I didn't completely decide where to go," he said. "I figured we'd check the paper and decide together."
Robin smiled happily. "That's a fine idea."
Jim flipped through the paper until he came to the entertainment section. He pored over it for a few moments. "How about a show," he suggested.
"They're expensive," Robin objected.
"So what? They're not really that much."
Robin rested her arm affectionately on his shoulder. "Why don't we do something cheap," she said. She knew that he wasn't making too much money, and that any extra he had was earmarked for college.
"What have you got in mind?" Jim asked.
"I don't know." She thought a moment, then brightened like a child spying a box of candy. "Say, how about taking a ferry boat ride."
"A ferry ride?"
"Sure," said Robin. "I hear you city people have a great ferry boat going across the river every ten minutes or so. Why don't we take a ride on it?"
"You think you'd enjoy that?"
"I'd love it."
"Well, it is a nice night...."
"Come on," said Robin, taking his hand and tugging him along. "Let's go."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" He was holding back, laughing.
"What's the matter?"
"Where are you going?"
"To the ferry."
"Well, what makes you think the ferry is that way?"
Robin looked dumb for a second. Then she grinned. "You know, you're right. What's the matter with me anyway!"
"It's this way," said Jim. He led her by the hand to a main street. There he flagged down a taxi.
"Hey," said Robin, "what's the idea. I thought this was going to be a cheap date."
Jim smiled. "That was your idea, not mine. Come on, get in."
Robin got dutifully into the taxi.
"To the ferry," Jim told the driver.
The cab sped off in the fading evening light, and Robin and Jim settled back in the seat together.
"The city is beautiful isn't it," said Robin, watching out the window.
"Yes, it is," said Jim.
He put his arm around the back of the seat and let it drop down to Robin's shoulders. She felt a warm shudder travel through her. She snuggled down into the crook of his arm and rested her head against his chest.
"Do you like me?" he asked softly.
Robin nodded her head. "Yes," she answered in a barely audible voice. "Yes."
They rode in silence to the ferry. Robin felt secure and happy. She knew, by the way Jim was holding her, that he cared for her. She knew, too, that he was going to tell her so formally before the evening was over.
She decided to allow herself to fall in love.
"Come on," said Jim exuberantly as they left the taxi. "Hurry."
She followed him gaily as he raced to catch the boat. They made it just as the attendant was fastening the chain across the entrance ramp.
"Wheel" cried Robin as she scampered along the corrugated metal walkway. "We made it!"
"Slow down," said Jim. "You want to fall overboard?"
"Oh, I couldn't fall overboard. There's a railing." Jim grinned. "Well, maybe you couldn't fall over board, but if you keep making such a racket, I wouldn't be surprised if somebody threw you overboard."
Robin laughed. "Like you maybe?"
Jim put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Not me. Never."
Robin nudged him affectionately in the ribs. She could hardly believe he was real, he was so perfect. He was everything she wanted.
They walked to the front of the ship and looked out at the water. It was choppy, and it had a salty aroma that was exhilarating.
"I love this," said Robin, dreamily. She looked over the edge and watched the spraying water as the bow of the boat plowed through it.
"It's nice," said Jim.
He rubbed his hand lightly over her neck. Robin hunched her shoulders to catch it. "That feels good," she said.
"Yes," he said softly.
Then, somehow, she was in his arms. His lips nudged hers gently. She closed her eyes and melted into his mouth.
In the distance a foghorn gave a throaty moan.
When she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her. He pecked her once more on the lips, affectionately.
She smiled up at him. "Thank you," she said formally, giving a little curtsy.
"My pleasure," he replied with a bow.
She grinned. "That was nice. Really."
"You were delicious," he said.
For a moment they looked at each other in silence. Then, as if following the same cue, they burst out laughing together.
"Boy," said Jim. "We must sound ridiculous, complimenting each other this way."
Robin looked around furtively. "I don't think anybody heard us," she said.
Jim suddenly took her hand. "Hey, how about a hot dog?"
"Great," said Robin.
They walked inside to the concession and bought hot dogs, potato chips and orange drink. Then they sat down on a long wooden bench and ate.
"You know, Jim," Robin said, "I really love this kind of thing. I'm glad we didn't spend a lot of money on a silly show."
"You're awful thoughtful, you know that?" said Jim. "Most girls wouldn't care how much a guy spent on them. You're really quite an exception."
"Oh, I don't think so," said Robin modestly. "I think most girls would be just as considerate."
"Yeah?" said Jim with mock belligerence. "Name one. Just one."
Robin thought a moment. "Zita," she said with a straight face.
Jim laughed. "She's thoughtful, all right. Thinks of herself constantly, day and night."
"She's not really that bad." Jim looked at her doubtfully.
Robin grinned. "Okay," she conceded. "So she is that bad."
"Has she been giving you any trouble?" Jim asked seriously. Robin could tell he was concerned. "Not really."
"What do you mean not really?"
"Well-" Robin hesitated. She was dying to ask Jim if the things Zita had said about him were true. But she couldn't bring herself to. It would be too insulting, too rude. And it would be an unforgivable invasion of privacy.
Worst of all, she realized, he might just tell her that what she had heard was true. And things were so nice between her and Jim at the moment, that she didn't want to risk ruining them. She decided to keep her silence.
"Nothing," she said. "She just isn't too friendly to me. There's nothing I could really put my finger on."
"Well, remember," Jim cautioned. "Whatever you do, don't let her get under your skin. If she starts to bug you too much, let me know about it."
"Okay," said Robin, demurely accepting his protection. She grinned. "What would you do about it?"
"Call my friends and have her exterminated," he said jokingly. "Hey, how about another hot dog."
Robin shook her head. "I really couldn't," she said. "I'm full to the brim."
"Okay." He downed the remainder of his orange drink and threw the container into a trash basket. "Let's go out on deck again."
For the next 15 minutes they stared hypnotized at the water, the cool salt air blowing into their faces. They held each other constantly, and every few minutes Jim's face would steal over and swipe a kiss.
The return trip was equally intoxicating. By the time they walked onto the dock, Robin was sure she was in love with Jim.
And she was fairly certain that he loved her too.
"How about going to my place now for a drink," she suggested.
"Fine," he said. He seemed to hesitate for a moment.
"Don't worry," she said, reading his thoughts. "Laura's not there tonight. She went away for the weekend."
They hailed a taxi and shortly afterwards were walking up the steps to Robin's apartment. She opened the door and flicked on the light. She stepped across the threshold and beckoned Jim inside.
He looked around approvingly. "Very nice," he said. "Real class."
Robin grinned. "Stop putting me on."
Jim laughed. "Okay."
Robin fixed them drinks, put a few romantic records on the stereo and adjusted the lighting so that the room was illuminated by a single blue bulb in the corner.
They sat down together on the sofa. "Very effective," said Jim, referring to the low blue lighting.
"Thank you," said Robin. She leaned against him.
He put his drink down, then took hers out of her hand and set that down on the coffee table too.
"Come here," he said.
But it wasn't necessary, because she already was there.
She felt his arms encircling her body, pulling her in to him, hugging her passionately. She responded instantly. Her hands went around his strong body, clinging to it as if it already belonged to her. She stroked the back of his neck with her fingers.
"Oh Jim," she said. "I-"
"Yes?"
She kissed him quickly, cutting herself off before she told him she loved him. It wasn't right yet. It was too soon. And besides, she had to wait for him.
He kissed her gently, playing with her mouth as if he treasured it.
She felt her head swimming with love. Her heart was pounding. She felt flushed and warm.
His hands went down to her breasts.
"Jim," she murmured.
"Robin." he said softly. He held her breasts tenderly, exploring them, molding them, becoming acquainted, she prayed, with terrain he'd never leave.
She realized they were moving together in time with the music. It was dancing in the truest sense. She felt as though time were suspended, and all she knew was that Jim was her man, and he was leading her, exciting her, using her. And she wouldn't have had it any other way for the world.
Then, abruptly, he stopped.
"I've got to go," he said.
She stared at him in disbelief. "Go?" she repeated dumbly.
He nodded, not looking at her. He seemed nervous. "Got a big-uh-story to knock out tomorrow. Just remembered. Got to meet a deadline."
He disengaged himself from Robin and stood up. She stared up at him. "Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Sure," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Everything's fine. Got to run, though. Sorry. Just realized it."
She looked with concern at his face. She couldn't tell, in the dim blue light, what his expression was. His eyes were hidden, and with them his thoughts.
She stood up. "Are you mad at me?"
He grinned quickly. "Of course not. I had a wonderful time. Really, Robin. It was great."
"I had a wonderful time, too," she said. She took his hand and walked him worriedly to the door. "Are you sure everything is all right?"
"Positive," he assured her.
"Did I do anything wrong?"
"Of course not."
"You seem nervous."
"It's that story. I didn't realize how close I was to the deadline. I guess I won't relax till its finished."
"How long do you think it will take you?"
Jim shrugged. "Oh ... all weekend maybe. It depends how it goes. I might finish it in a few hours, then again it might take a couple of days."
"I see," said Robin. She could almost feel her heart sliding down into her stomach.
Jim bent down to kiss her. She kissed him back, but it wasn't the same. There seemed to be little warmth in his lips.
"Goodnight, Robin," he said. "Really, I had a fine time."
"Me too," she said. She could tell he couldn't wait to get away. She tried not to sound too downcast. "Goodnight."
Then the door closed and she was alone in the apartment.
She paced back and forth busily for almost ten minutes, trying to figure out what had happened. One after another, she checked off and discarded the possible causes for Jim's sudden departure.
And then, with sinking heart, she realized just what the answer must be: Zita's rumor about an affair between Molly and Jim had not been a rumor at all.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized how true it must be. Everything fit together-the secret look Molly had given Jim that first day Robin had met her, Zita's insistence that they were having an affair, and now this.
Numbly, barely able to believe that her dreams had been so brutally shattered in just one evening, Robin got undressed and climbed into bed. She turned out the light and lay there in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling.
A surge of anger passed through her, and she gritted her teeth. He had no right to lead her on as he did, she thought bitterly. He knew she liked him. How could he have been so cruel? How could he have played with her like that?
And she had been so sincere with him too. So open.
She bit her lip in fury. Well, never again, she resolved grimly. She'd be ice cold to him from now on. He'd never get another ounce of satisfaction out of her.
What's more, she decided, she was going to be extra warm to Nails. She was going to make love to Nails every night of the week if she felt like it. And she didn't care if Jim found out about it, either.
In fact, she hoped he would find out. Not that he'd be jealous or anything, but it just might bug him a bit.
And the more she bugged him, the better she would like it.
She turned over in bed and dug her nails angrily into the pillow. She hated everybody. They were rats, all of them. Even the ones you trusted the most ended up turning on you.
Then the energy of hate drained away from her, and she collapsed into the pillow exhausted.
The lump in her throat could be controlled no longer.
With a muffled whimper, she began to cry. Later, much later, she fell into a troubled sleep.
CHAPTER-EIGHT
It was Monday morning. Robin was calm as she arrived at the offices of the newspaper. But she had not changed her resolve of the previous Friday night.
It was the cold shoulder for Jim from here on in; and it was warm, warm, warm for the sexy-looking publisher.
She nodded a stiff hello to Molly as she walked past the reception desk. In the large inner office, or "bull pen," as she now called it, she greeted the rest of the staff.
She had braced herself for her first encounter with Jim. Now, as she realized he wasn't in, she felt a vague sense of disappointment.
Then the door to Zita's office opened. Robin stopped short.
"Hi there," said Zita with a broad smile.
"Good morning," said Robin. She began walking on towards her own office.
"Hey," Zita called, "where're you going? I want to talk to you."
Robin paused at the door to her office. "Come in," she said.
Robin walked into her office. Zita followed. Robin said, "Have a seat."
"Thanks," said Zita.
Robin saw that the door to Nails' office was shut and the light was off. He wasn't in yet. And just as well, Robin thought. There was a lot of work she had to catch up on, and doing so was practically impossible with Nails constantly making passes at her.
Robin sat down behind her desk and looked expressionlessly at Zita. "Yes?" she inquired formally.
Zita laughed and patted her hair, a net-covered bun which Robin thought was repulsive. "Look," said Zita, "I want to apologize for the other day in the restaurant. I didn't mean to upset you."
Robin gave her a doubtful look. "Didn't you?"
"No, honest. Sometimes I just get carried away with talking, though. You know how it is."
Robin observed her warily. It was quite unlike Zita to act so friendly on a Monday morning. Or on any morning for that matter. And especially to, of all people, Robin.
Robin didn't trust her at all. "Okay," she said coldly. "Apology is accepted. Now what can I do for you?"
Zita sighed. "You really insist on being unfriendly to me, don't you?"
"I'm not being unfriendly," said Robin. "But since you brought it up, why don't we just say hello in the morning and goodbye in the evening and leave it at that?"
The smile left Zita's face. "If that's the way you want it."
Robin smiled sweetly. "Yes, that's the way I want it."
Zita stood up to go. Her nose was slightly up-tilted again and there wasn't the slightest trace of even the false friendliness that she had been affecting a few minutes before. "Okay," she said icily. "That's the way it will be, then."
"Fine," said Robin. "Is there anything else?"
"Not really," said Zita haughtily. "The reason I came in here was to ask you how your date with Jim was on Friday. I heard that you went out with him."
Robin looked at her with contempt. "You have to know everything, don't you. Why? So you can turn around and use it against me?"
"Just curious, that's all."
"I doubt it," said Robin. "At any rate, what I do with Jim-or anybody else, for that matter-is my business, not yours."
"Suit yourself," said Zita. She grasped the door knob and held onto it as she spoke to Robin. "But frankly, I think you're acting pretty silly."
"Think what you please," said Robin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."
With an angry look, Zita turned around and stalked out of Robin's office.
Robin smiled to herself. It served Zita right, being treated that way. She was a troublemaker, no doubt about it. And she had to be guarded against at all times.
Robin felt that she had scored a minor victory in the way she had just handled Zita. It seemed like an encouraging sign. Maybe now the tide of events would begin to change.
She busied herself with her work. There were dozens of letters to be transcribed and typed, and there was some filing to be done. Before she knew it, nearly two hours had passed. Then, with a flourish, Nails strode into the office. "Morning," he boomed exuberantly. He squeezed Robin's shoulder warmly as he passed her and walked into his own office. "Hi, Nails."
"What a great day!" he exulted. He threw himself into his swivel chair and propelled it around like a top. When he came to rest, he smiled up at Robin.
"What is it?" she said. He was exuding excitement, and it was contagious.
"We just picked up ten thousand circulation," he said happily. "Ten thousand more copies a week. I just got back from the distributor and learned the news."
"That's great," said Robin. "That means you'll be making a lot more money, right?"
"Lots more is right," said Nails. He stood up, walked over to her and whirled her around. "And I know just how I'm going to spend it. We're going to celebrate by having the finest dinner in the city."
"You and me?"
"Of course. Are you free tonight?" Robin was about to say yes.
"Wait a minute," Nails said. "I just remembered, I'm tied up tonight. How about tomorrow?"
"Fine," said Robin. She felt like jumping up and down for joy. This was just what she needed to perk up her spirits. It made the hurt she felt over Jim fade sufficiently into the background so that she could feel happy again.
Nails suddenly put on a face that he imagined was a good imitation of a slave driver. "Okay, now," he roared, "back to work! There's too much damn loafing going on in this office!"
Robin saluted. "Yes sir," she said with a grin. Happily, she busied herself with her duties. And later, when she ran into Zita by the elevator, she was fully prepared to deal with her.
"Hello, Zita," she said cheerily.
Zita sniffed the air contemptuously. "I thought you weren't speaking to me."
"I've reconsidered," said Robin sweetly. "I've decided that you do have a right after all to know certain things that are going on in the office. After all, you are the office manager."
Zita eyed her suspiciously. She seemed to know that Robin was baiting her. Still, she couldn't resist. "All right," she said cautiously. "What is it?"
"I thought," said Robin, "that you'd like to know about the latest chapter in my torrid love life."
"I really couldn't care less," said Zita. She knew very well that Robin was leading up to something.
"Oh, I think you'll probably care in this case," said Robin tauntingly. She cocked an eyebrow at Zita.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Zita.
"Sure you do," said Robin. "You're in love with Nails, aren't you?"
Zita reddened. "That's none of your business."
Robin shrugged carelessly. "I suppose not," she said with a smile. "But you see I just wanted to offer you my sympathies on your not getting him."
"Who says I want him?" Zita said defensively.
Robin shrugged again. "Well, gosh, I'd sure want a man like that. I guess any woman would." Then she played her trump card: "That's why I'm so thrilled that we're going out together tomorrow evening for dinner."
Zita's face dropped.
"And after that," Robin went on cuttingly, "I suppose we'll go up to his apartment and listen to some soft music. I'll bet Nails can get real romantic over soft music. Don't you think?"
Cold hate blazed out of Zita's eyes. She stared at Robin, but said nothing.
"Cat got your tongue, I suppose," said Robin sweetly. She cocked her head prettily at Zita. "Well, nice talking to you again, Zita," she said. "Got to run now. Do drop in to my office sometime for a chat. I'd love to see you."
Zita uttered something that sounded like a snarl.
"Bye, bye," said Robin.
She waved her fingers cutely. Then she walked back into the office, leaving Zita standing silently by the elevator, fuming as if she would burst into flame at any moment.
Tuesday's dinner date with Nails began even more lavishly than their first date together. They rode by taxi to the downtown heliport, and almost before Robin relized what was happening, they were inside a huge helicopter and fastening their seat belts.
"I'm flabbergasted," said Robin.
"You've flown before, haven't you?" asked Nails.
"Yes. But never in a helicopter. But that's not what amazes me so much. It's the idea of taking a helicopter just to go out to dinner."
Nails smiled. "Nothing but the best for us tonight," he said gaily. "This is a celebration."
Robin grinned and looked out of the window. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and was drenching the air in orange. The roof of the heliport looked gray.
Robin let out a soft gasp as the pitch of the rotor blades increased to a whine and the craft lurched slightly. She clutched Nails' suit jacket nervously. Then the helicopter was lifting smoothly skyward, and the ground began dropping away swiftly. "Nervous?" smiled Nails.
"A little," Robin admitted. "I'll get over it in a few minutes. As soon as we're up a little higher."
"It's only a ten minute flight anyway," said Nails. He added, "By bus it's almost an hour."
Robin watched out of the window in fascination. Soon they approached the airport and hovered in for a landing. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the soft thunk that meant they had landed.
The restaurant at the airport was as ritzy as the one they had gone to the week before. Its specialty was seafood. Robin stuffed herself. Everything was just too tasty to pass up.
It was inevitable that the conversation come around to Zita sooner or later. Nails smiled and asked, "Has she been bugging you?"
Robin laughed. The champagne was making her giddy. "Actually," she said, "it seems to be me who's bugging her lately."
"She's acting jealous again, isn't she?"
"I'll say she is. She reminds me of a vicious bulldog. Every time I pass her I feel I have to duck her claws."
"I know," said Nails. "She's a funny woman."
"Why do you keep her on, then?" asked Robin.
Nails shrugged. "I don't know. I feel sorry for her, maybe. In any event, she does her job well, so there's no reason not to keep her."
"I guess not."
"Unless, of course," Nails continued, "she disrupts the staff. That can happen. In fact, I supppose it has happened a number of times already. But nothing serious enough to make me fire her."
Robin looked down at the tablecloth.
"Are you sure she hasn't been really bothering you?" Nails asked again. "If she has, I'll have a talk with her."
"No, I can handle it. Really. It's just that she starts getting under my skin when she talks about Jim."
"I'm glad you mentioned that," said Nails. "What's the matter with you and Jim anyway? I've noticed that you hardly talked to him all day. Did you two have a fight Friday?"
Robin shook her head. The memory pained her a moment. Then she smiled. "It just didn't work out, that's all. He's interested in somebody else."
"He is? That's news to me."
"Well, it's true. I'm sure of it." She smiled brightly. "At any rate," she said, changing the subject before it depressed her into ruining a beautiful evening, "nothing whatever is happening between Jim and me. So I'm a free woman. I'm up for grabs for the first halfway decent man who wants me."
Nails reached across the table, pulled her shoulders towards him and kissed her. "I'll take you," he said.
"Now wait a minute," Robin giggled. "I said halfway decent. You're not the least bit decent."
"You're right," Nails agreed buoyantly. "And you couldn't be more pleased."
"How right you are," Robin murmured happily through the champagne. "How right you are."
They were in bed now, in Nails' apartment. "I've missed you," Robin said softly, cradled gently in his arms.
"Why, you see me every day," Nails teased.
Robin smiled. "I mean I miss you this way."
Nails pulled her closer to him. "You're a beautiful woman, Robin."
She smiled, murmured something unintelligible and began fondling him. Peacefully, she counted his ribs with her fingers. His flesh felt warm and firm to her touch.
Impulsively, she drew him close to her and hugged him tighter. "Oh Nails," she said. "I want you so much."
"I know," said Nails.
"Even more than the first time."
"I know," he said softly. "I want you too."
They caressed each other slowly and temptingly, honing their appetites until they were at the bursting point.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to resist you," she murmured. "I hope not."
She squirmed in an effort to get her naked body still closer to his. He responded in kind. In seconds, the sparks had escalated into a holocaust.
"Don't stop," Robin whimpered.
His hands were flying over her breasts. The nipples were tight and hard, straining pleasurably against his fingers.
"Kiss me there," she begged him.
Nails rested his lips on the hard scarlet tips. His tongue ran around them. Little circles, larger circles. Then his tongue was at her mouth, searching its every corner, plunging inside to meet her own tongue.
She kissed him back, but it was he who was the driver. He was as powerful and authoritative in bed, she thought, as he was in his everyday business affairs. And he was carrying her up to the heights of excitement whether she wanted to be carried or not.
Her legs trembled as he ran his fingers along her thighs. She felt flushed all over. She let his hands explore freely, from her ankles, to her thighs, to the stomach and small of her back.
"Don't let me go," she whimpered. She felt delirious. Never had her body tingled so.
"Yes," she said desperately. "Yes, yes."
They ground together as if they were fighting. There was a look of pain on Robin's face, but it was the pain of ecstasy.
His body glistened with sweat from the exertion. She held him tightly. She could feel his pulse throbbing with excitement, and it blended wildly with her own.
"Now!" said Nails breathlessly, holding her against him, pressing his face into her neck.
"Yes," she said frantically. "Now, Nails. Now!"
He held her tightly and shuddered. She rose with him, blinded with feeling.
Then it was over.
She lay back panting. She sighed. She smiled.
Nails observed her affectionately. "Like I said," he declared, "you are a beautiful woman."
"And you," said Robin, "are a beautiful man."
They laughed and bounced out of bed. Then they took a shower together and dressed. Nails escorted her home by taxi. He also made a date with her for Friday.
As she got into her own bed, she felt slightly pensive. The evening with Nails had been wonderful, and she was glad it had happened. It had made her feel like a woman again. And it had lifted her out of her depression over Jim.
Nevertheless, she still felt a vague sense of dissatisfaction. She felt a certain sadness that it couldn't have been Jim. Much as she was attracted to Nails, it was Jim whom she was in love with. It was only Jim who could satisfy her fully.
She felt herself getting angry at Jim again. After all, it was he, in a sense, who had driven her to Nails. It was he who had turned her away, discarded her for somebody else.
Then her anger disappeared, and she found herself loving Jim again. She sobbed quietly for a while. Then, when it was all out of her and she felt better, she came to a resolution.
She would not be cold to him anymore. She would be warm and friendly. She would campaign with all her energy to win him away from Molly.
And she could do it, too. For it was she who really loved him. And he couldn't help but sense that and respond to it.
In a sea of blissful daydreams, Robin fell asleep.
The morrow, she was convinced, would bring her the true love she so earnestly and desperately wanted.
Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way-for the first thing she saw when she went into the office the next day was Jim and Molly sitting on the recep-tin desk together.
Kissing.
CHAPTER-NINE
Stunned, Robin just stared for a few seconds.
Then, getting hold of herself, she turned her head away and walked past them.
They looked up. "Hey," Jim called. "How about saying good morning."
Robin ignored him and walked towards her own office. He followed her.
"Hey, what's the matter?"
She didn't look at him. She felt all choked up. She knew she was acting silly, but she couldn't help herself.
"Hey," repeated Jim. "What's wrong with you anyway?"
"Nothing," she managed to say.
"Don't tell me 'nothing.' " He followed her into her office.
She avoided his eyes, busying herself with hanging up her jacket and arranging the items on her desk. "Look at me," he said to her. "Why?"
"Because I want to talk to you."
"Go ahead and talk."
"All right." His voice sounded a little irritated. "Something is wrong," he said firmly. "Don't try to pretend it isn't. You've been giving me the cold shoulder all week."
"Big deal," she said flippantly. "It's only Wednesday."
"Stop joking," said Jim. "I'm serious."
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"I'd rather you would."
"I said I wouldn't."
Jim sighed in exasperation. "You're acting like a little child."
"That's my business," Robin snapped.
"Look, what's bugging you, anyway?"
"Nothing," said Robin, "Now why don't you leave me alone? I have work to do."
"I'll leave you alone as soon as you tell me what's I bothering you. Is it something I said?"
"No."
"Something I did?"
"No."
"Something-" He stopped himself. "Look, this isn't a game of Twenty Questions. Why can't you just r give me a straight answer?"
"Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"I told you why. I want some sort of an explanation from you. You're acting like I'm your worst enemy."
Robin shrugged.
"Now listen," Jim suggested. "I don't know what it is that's bugging you, and I sure can't read your mind. I tell you what. How about going out for dinner with me this weekend, and we'll discuss it."
"What day this weekend?"
"How's Friday?"
Robin smiled sweetly, glad for the opportunity to get back at him. "I'm sorry," she said, "I have a date for Friday."
"Oh."
"With Nails," she added. "We're going out to dinner again."
"Again?" Jim frowned. "I didn't know you went out with him in the first place."
"Yes, I did," said Robin. "And I had a wonderful time."
Jim's face was red with anger. "Well, that's a fine state of affairs. One minute you're going out with me, the next minute you're playing around with somebody else."
"I'll play around with whom I please," Robin retorted hotly. It annoyed her that he had the nerve to act as though he owned her just minutes after she'd seen him kissing somebody else.
"Sure, it's a free country," said Jim. "But why Nails?"
"Why not Nails?"
"You know very well why not. Are you going to become one of his 'girls' too?"
"That's none of your business," Robin snapped. "And who are you to talk anyway? You don't seem to be very discreet about your affairs."
"What affairs?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You and Molly. Do you think I'm blind?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh sure." She looked him straight in the eye. "I know very well you've been having an affair with Molly. The whole office knows it."
Jim shook his head blankly. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous."
"Of course not," said Robin tellingly. "You were too busy smooching it up out there with her."
"Oh that," said Jim.
"Yes, that."
He laughed. "You crazy girl. You misunderstood everything."
"I'll say I did. I misunderstood you from the first moment I met you. I never should have trusted you and fallen-"
She cut herself short, but it was too late. He knew what she had planned to say.
"Robin," he said gently. "Listen to me...."
She shook her head vigorously. "Never again. Never. I made the mistake of listening to you once, and that was enough."
"You've got it all wrong," Jim protested.
Robin felt herself on the verge of crying. "I don't want to hear a word," she said.
"That's ridiculous."
"Maybe it is," she choked out. Then, before the tears began flowing, she ran out of the office and into the hall. She rang for the elevator. Then, when it didn't arrive immediately, she walked down the stairs.
Outside, she quickly crossed the street and hurried around the corner just in case Jim decided to follow her. Then she slowed down.
For half an hour she walked aimlessly, trying to calm herself. Finally, when she was sure she was fully composed, she went back to the office.
Jim was gone. He had been sent out for the rest of the morning on an assignment. Nails was in, though. He greeted her warmly.
"Hi," said Robin. "Where've you been?"
"Oh, just out walking. I felt a little dizzy and wanted some fresh air."
Nails grinned. "Was last night too much for you?"
She smiled. Somehow being in Nails' presence always seemed to raise her spirits. "No," she said. "Last night was just beautiful."
"How about a matinee."
"You mean-"
Nails nodded. "I mean right now."
"But my letters, my filing...."
"It'll wait," said Nails.
Robin smiled. She felt a tremor of desire flit through her. She knew she couldn't resist him. And she didn't want to.
"Lock the door," said Nails.
She did as he told her.
"Now come here."
"I feel strange," said Robin. "I mean with everybody out there in the bull pen and all."
Nails took her in his arms and grinned. "Would you rather they were in here?"
Robin chuckled softly. "No," she said. She kissed him on the lips.
"Ah, you taste good," said Nails, savoring her.
"You too."
Then the playfulness faded away, and she was breathing hard in his powerful grip. His kisses smothered her face.
"Take your clothes off," Nails said urgently.
"All of them?"
"All of them."
Demurely, shyly, she obeyed. He leaned against the desk and watched her. She unbuttoned her blouse first, removing it and placing it neatly over the back of a chair. Then she pulled down the zipper of her skirt and stepped out of it.
She stood before him in her brassiere, panties and stockings.
"Everything," said Nails."
"Help me," she said.
He walked over to her and slid his arms around her waist. She felt her pulse pounding as he kissed her. She trembled at the touch of his hands on the small of her back.
"Undress me quickly," she pleaded. Nails' fingers fumbled with the clasp to her bra. It came loose and the bra fell away, exposing her firm, I pink breasts. He caressed them briefly. "Hurry," she said.
His hands went around to the small of her back again. He pulled her close to him. Then his fingers slid down beneath the hem of her panties.
She gave a passionate cry. "Nails," she begged. "Hurry, Nails."
Then she could stand it no longer. She pushed Nails' hands away and tore at her panties with her own hands. They fell down around her ankles, and she kicked them off.
Then she was frantically clawing at Nails' clothing. Moments later he was naked.
"My stockings," Robin said dizzily. "I'm still wearing my stockings."
"It doesn't matter," Nails mumbled. He was aroused to a fever pitch. Nothing, it seemed, could stop him. He frightened her when he got like this, but he thrilled her too.
"Here," he said curtly.
She let him pick her up in his arms. He carried her only a few feet and then placed her down on the carpet. She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him down beside her.
They churned together on the rug like animals. She thought briefly that she should try to control her panting, so that those in the outer office wouldn't be able to hear.
Then all thoughts were obliterated in the frenzy of excitement she was feeling. She rose higher and higher, wondering crazily if the fantastic pleasure would ever end.
And then, with a shudder, it did.
She breathed deeply for a long while. "Boy," she said finally, "you are too much."
Nails smiled. "Would you care for an encore?"
"No, no, no!" Robin laughed. "I'm worn out enough as it is."
She felt in a good mood again as she dressed. Nails, she reflected, was good medicine for her.
When she was back in order again, she unlocked the door and walked out into the bull pen. Immediately, she caught Jim's angry gaze. He had apparently come back to the office while she had been in with Nails-and now he was sitting at a desk, seemingly waiting for her, and quite obviously stewing.
She made up her mind instantly that she didn't want to talk to him. Nevertheless, as she started to walk towards the hallway, he headed her off.
"What's the idea?" he asked. His face was lined and troubled.
"What's the idea about what?" she parried.
"About being in that office so long with Nails. And with the door locked."
"How do you know it was locked?"
"I tried it."
"I see."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, what were you doing in there, that's what!" Robin looked up at him and smiled as sweetly as she could.
And with that she was gone-leaving him standing dumbly in the center of the room, with typewriters clacking frantically all around him.
CHAPTER-TEN
The next morning, when Robin came in to work, Jim was no longer pushy. He nodded hello politely to her, and she returned it in the same way.
In a way, she was glad that he had stopped bothering her. Deep inside she still loved him and wanted him, but her pride kept making her push him away. Now that he had evidently taken the hint and was staying away on his own, it was that much easier for her to keep her distance from him.
And Nails, of course, helped too.
No sooner had he come in to the office than they began necking and playing with each other. And within an hour, she heard the now familiar command: "Lock the door, will you please, Robin?"
With a grin, she complied. She made no pretense of purity any more. She enjoyed it as much as he did. And they both knew it.
"Not on the floor again," she requested with a wry smile.
"Why not?" teased Nails. "Something wrong with my carpet?"
"Yes. It tickles."
Nails laughed. "Okay, anything to please the lady. Will the couch be acceptable?"
Robin curtsied prettily. "That will be fine, thank you."
"Anything else, madam?"
Robin thought for a moment. In a serious tone she said, "Yes, there is."
"Your wish is my command."
Robin smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid you may not be able to do very much about this wish."
"What is it?"
"Well, I feel kind of funny being in here with you-you know, like this-and knowing that Jim is out there in the bull pen. I think he knows what's going on."
"I doubt it," said Nails. "I never gave him any reason to believe we've been doing anything more than just flirting. Have you?"
Robin lowered her head sheepisly. "Well, yes, sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been kind of using you to try to get him jealous."
"I see," said Nails. "You shouldn't have done that."
"I know."
"Well, too late now. I'll tell you what I'll do, though. I'll send him out to a photo agency for the rest of the day. Will that make you feel any better?"
Robin smiled gratefully. "Oh, would it!"
"Okay," said Nails. "Wait here."
He went out into the bull pen. Three minutes later he was back. "It's all set," he said.
"Do you think he suspected anything?" Robin asked.
Nails shrugged. "It's hard to tell. He didn't seem any too friendly to me. But maybe he's just bothered about something else."
Robin shook her head hopelessly. "I've really messed things up with him. Now he not only doesn't like me, but there's not even any communication between us. And it's really my fault, too."
"Well, let's worry about that later," Nails suggested, putting his arm around her shoulders. "We've got a busy day ahead of us."
Robin grinned at his one-track mind. "This gets more business-like every day," she kidded him. "And pretty soon you're just going to get tired of me altogether, and then it's goodbye Robin."
Nails grinned and tried to look offended. "I'd never do that!" he protested.
Robin smiled. To herself she said, "Yes you would."
But it didn't matter, because he was attractive and strong and virile. And she wanted him badly.
She came into his arms. They felt comfortably familiar by now, and she squirmed around in them pleasantly. She kissed him playfully, the way she used to peck her old boyfriend in the drive-in movie.
But the kid stuff didn't last long. Soon Robin was half undressed and lying across the couch, fully aroused, hungry for her lover.
"Take me quickly," she pleaded.
"Right now," he said between breaths.
"Hurry!"
A sharp knock at the door startled them. Robin jerked to a sitting position. "Who's that?" she whispered frantically.
"I don't know," said Nails. Instantly, he was calmly in control of himself. He tried to calm Robin. "Just take it easy," he told her. "Get dressed slowly and don't make any noise."
In a louder voice he called, "Who's there?"
"Everybody!" came a chorus of voices.
Robin brought her hand to her mouth in horror. "Oh no!" she wailed softly.
"Now just keep calm," Nails said firmly.
His confidence encouraged her. Swiftly, she got into her clothes and straightened herself up.
"Ready?" said Nails.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes."
Nails opened the door, and a cheer went up from the entire staff-with the exception of Jim, who was out.
Nails put on a charming smile. "What's going on?" he asked.
"It's party time!" said one of the writers.
Nails frowned. "I don't understand."
"We're celebrating," Zita explained. "Molly's boyfriend just came up and gave her an engagement ring."
Robin looked in the direction of Molly. She was blushing furiously, though happily. Beside her, also blushing, was a good-looking young man.
The young man cleared his throat. "I just picked up the ring this afternoon," he explained to Nails, "and I couldn't wait till tonight to give it to her. I'm sorry if we disrupted your working day."
"Not at all," said Nails warmly. "Not at all. Let me be the first to congratulate you." He paused and looked around at the assembled crowd. "On second thought," he said, "I guess I'm a little late for that."
The group laughed.
"Hey," said Nails, "what kind of a celebration is this anyway-with no booze." He went into his office and moments later emerged with a bottle of good bourbon. "Zita, you've got paper cups, haven't you?"
Zita went into her own office for a supply of cups.
Soon the party was going full blast.
But Robin, sitting quietly in one corner of the room with a cup of bourbon in her hand, was still too stunned to be able to join in the fun.
So there was no affair between Jim and Molly after all-she kept telling herself over and over again. There was nothing between them. Nothing but, perhaps, a warm, healthy friendship.
And here she had been making a big fuss. She felt she ought to begin kicking herself immediately and not stop until Christmas. Now everything fell into place. Of course Jim had had good reason to be kissing Molly yesterday-she had probably told him the good news and he was congratulating her. And she probably had told him not to tell anybody else until her boyfriend actually picked up the ring.
As for Robin's other fears about Molly, they, too, began to seem groundless. The exchanges of looks between them were probably no more than Robin's own jealous imagination. And the fact that Jim had run off suddenly during their date could be explained in any number of ways-it didn't necessarily have to be caused by an affair between Jim and Molly.
She shook her head slowly, finding it hard to believe that she had been so thick-headed. She had jumped foolishly to conclusions, and as a result had probably driven Jim away from her for good.
She suddenly glanced over at Zita. A wave of anger surged through her. It was Zita who had really caused all the trouble. It was she who had put the idea in Robin's mind that Jim was playing around with Molly. And it was all a lie, a vicious, ugly lie, designed to do nothing but hurt her.
Zita caught Robin looking at her and smiled cattily. She looked as though she was aware of how successful her troublemaking had been and was relishing the results.
Putting her drink down, Robin walked around the noisy merrymakers and approached Zita.
"Yes, my dear," said Zita sweetly.
"You're a pretty rotten person," Robin said bluntly.
"Am I," said Zita. "Isn't that too bad."
"Yes it is," said Robin. "I feel sorry for you in a I way. You have nothing at all, so you get no enjoyment out of life except in hurting others."
"Maybe you're right," said Zita with a smile. "I gather you're referring to yourself, correct? Aren't you the one who's been hurt?"
"Perhaps," said Robin coolly. "But I don't think it's beyond repair. As I said, it's you I really feel sorry for."
Zita shook her head confidently. "No, my dear, it's you who deserve the sympathy."
"I don't see why."
"You will when I get through with you."
"Haven't you done enough?"
"Not nearly," said Zita, the bitterness sneaking through the phony smile. "You see, you took my man I from me. And I can't let that pass."
"That's ridiculous. Nails isn't your man."
"You took him," Zita said coldly. "And now I'm going to mess you up with Jim."
"I don't believe you." Robin felt a slight sensation of fear. "And I don't believe you could cause any more trouble, even if you wanted to."
"You don't think so, huh? Well, just how much do you think Jim is going to like you when he finds out that you've been intimate with Nails?"
Robin's blush gave her away. "You wouldn't," she said.
"I certainly would."
"He wouldn't believe you."
"Wouldn't he?" said Zita. "I think, given the circumstances, he could hardly believe anything else. Besides, it's quite obvious that it's true."
Robin felt a sensation of horror inside. "Zita," she said quietly. "Don't say anything to Jim."
Zita laughed boisterously.
"I mean it," said Robin. "This means too much to me.
"All the better," sneered Zita.
"Please," said Robin. "I'm asking you not to."
Zita lifted her paper cup of bourbon in a toast. "My dear," she said, dipping her head dramatically, "you just try and stop me."
And then she was gone, mingling with the crowd, laughing and joking and having fun.
And Robin stood watching her helplessly-wondering when the axe was going to fall.
CHAPTER-ELEVEN
It fell the moment Jim walked in the following morning.
"Hi Jim," she ventured cautiously, as he walked past her in the bull pen where she had been getting a drink of water.
He nodded perfunctorily and kept going towards his own office.
Robin felt her heart sink. Spilling out the remainder of her water, she crumpled the paper cup and followed Jim into his office.
"Yes?" he said.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked timidly.
"Sure, go ahead," he said curtly. "Make it quick, though. I've got to go out on an assignment."
"Well...." She hesitated, not knowing how to begin. Or even what she was going to say.
Jim watched her coldly as she fumbled. Finally he said, "Need some help?"
Robin shook her head helplessly. "There's so much I want to tell you," she said miserably.
"Well, go ahead. Nobody's stopping you."
"You are," she said. "You're being so cold to me, I feel awkward talking to you."
"Sorry, I can't help that."
Robin lowered her eyes. They were misty.
"Look," said Jim tightly, "if you were about to give me the big confession about you and Nails, save your breath. I know the whole story, and I'm not interested in further details."
Robin looked at him unhappily. "Zita told you?" she asked.
Jim nodded. "She called me late last night and gave me all the dirt."
"I tried to call you too," Robin said. "I wanted to explain how it really was. But there was no answer."
"I was out bowling. I didn't get home till late. Anyway, what is there to explain? It's true, isn't it?"
Robin looked down at the floor. "Yes, but-"
"Yes but nothing," said Jim. "You've been having an affair with Nails-just like all his other women-and that's all there is to it."
"No, Jim, you don't understand."
"The trouble is, I do understand. Only too clearly. Now look-what you do with Nails is your business, not mine. This is a free country. But just don't bother me with explanations about it. I'm not interested."
Robin shook her head helplessly. "Jim, please," she begged him.
"Please nothing!" he snapped. His face was red and angry. "I'm not interested in hearing about your love life."
"But you're my love life," she blurted. There was a long silence.
"Yes, that's right," Robin went on, her eyes damp. "I thought you knew that."
Jim seemed slightly taken aback.
Encouraged, Robin blurted out everything. "It's you I love, Jim," she said, her voice on the verge of cracking. "But I didn't think you liked me. I thought you were going with Molly...."
"Molly?"
"That's what Zita led me to believe." Jim shook his head. "I told you she was a troublemaker."
"Well, I believed her. I was so hurt, Jim. I didn't know what to do."
Jim's face got suddenly hard again. "It didn't take you long to come up with a solution, did it?"
"Jim," she said.
"Don't try to make excuses," he said coldly.
"But Jim," she persisted, "what was I to think? That night we went out together, you suddenly walked out on me. I was sure you did it because you liked Molly."
"An unfortunate guess," Jim said drily. "It so happens, the reason I left in such a hurry was because I did like you. And I respected you, too. I didn't want to get carried away and go too far."
Robin's heart dropped still further. So that was the reason. How could she have been so stupid! He had left not out of disinterest at all, but out of love.
"Jim," she said softly. "I didn't know."
He put on his hat and picked up a small attache case. "Well," he said with a grim smile, "now you know."
"Jim, wait!" she cried desperately.
"So long, Robin," he said. "I guess that respect and love were misplaced after all."
"No, Jim."
"So long, kid."
And then he was gone.
Numbly, Robin walked back to her own office. She was trembling. She put on a sweater and clasped her arms in front of her.
Nails walked into the room from his own office. He smiled at her. "Cold?" he asked.
She nodded, shivering.
"Well, that's no problem. I'll warm you up in no time." He walked over to her and embraced her playfully.
She stood there stiffly.
"Hey, what's the matter?" asked Nails.
"Nothing."
Nails picked her chin up with his hand. "Come on," he said, almost like a father. "Tell me what's bothering you."
Tears filled Robin's eyes. "It's Jim," she said softly.
"Jim?"
She nodded.
"What about Jim?"
"He knows."
"You mean about us?"
Robin nodded. "He knows everything. He hates me now."
Nails' eyes narrowed angrily. "Who told him?" he asked.
"Zita," said Robin. "She called him last night and told him all about it."
"I see," said Nails slowly. Robin watched his face. He looked grimmer than she'd ever seen him before.
"She was jealous of me and you," Robin went on.
Nails disengaged himself from Robin. "Well," he said quietly, "she's caused her last bit of trouble in this office."
Robin watched silently as Nails strode over to Robin's desk and flicked a button on the intercom. Through the static, she heard Zita's voice say, "Yes?"
"Come in here," said Nails.
A few seconds later, Zita appeared in Robin's office. "Yes?" she smiled. Then, as she saw Nails' expression, her smile faded.
"Did you speak to Jim last night?" Nails asked her.
Zita hesitated a moment. She looked at Robin. "I think I spoke to him, yes."
"What did you tell him?"
Zita shrugged. "I don't know. We just chatted awhile."
"Did you tell him that Robin and I were having an affair?" Robin admired the direct and forceful way he handled Zita.
"Uh...."
"Yes or no?" Nails pressed.
"I think I did," said Zita. "Yes, I may have just casually mentioned something like that."
Nails smiled slowly. "I see," he said. "Well, I have something I'd like to casually mention to you."
"Yes?"
"You're fired, Zita."
Zita's mouth fell open. Nobody said a word. "Pack your belongings right now," said Nails. "But-"
"Goodbye, Zita. Robin and I have work to do." For a long moment, Zita just stared blankly. Then she composed herself. The defensive hate began returning. She glared at Nails, then at Robin. Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the office.
When she was gone, Robin said, "Wow, that was fast and clean."
"That's the way I operate," said Nails. He was his old friendly self again.
"Won't you give her another chance?"
Nails shook his head. "No. It's best she leave. For her, too, as a matter-of-fact. She'll forget me soon if she's not around."
Robin shook her head. Things were happening so quickly that she was a little bewildered.
"As for you," said Nails in his most charming manner, "let's see if we can't perk you up a little."
He took Robin in his arms and drew her close to him.
"Nails," she said hesitantly, "maybe I shouldn't...."
"Of course you should," he said with a laugh.
"I don't know. Jim...."
"He's gone for the day," said Nails.
"But he knows about us now."
"So what? No use crying over spilled milk. Holding back with me isn't going to change things with Jim now." i
"I know...."
"Well, come on then."
Robin felt all confused. "I don't know what to do," she said.
Nails smiled. "Well, let me offer you a few suggestions." He kissed her softly on the lips. He lingered there. "That," he said, "is suggestion number one."
Robin couldn't help but smile.
"And here's suggestion number two." Smiling, he began unbuttoning her blouse.
"Stop, Nails," she protested mildly.
"It was only a suggestion," he joked. "Perhaps you'd be more interested in this." He ran his hands around her brassiere, and then his hands went around her back and began caressing her buttocks, pulling her in to him.
She felt her passion rising again. As usual, Nails was irresistible. Slowly, as if some unknown force was directing them, Robin's hands climbed around Nails' shoulders and hugged him.
"I'm glad to see you're taking my suggestion," said Nails.
Robin smiled. "I can't seem to help myself," she admitted ruefully. She still felt confused. She wished she could stop, but she wanted Nails badly.
Or did she-she suddenly wondered-want Nails only because she couldn't have Jim?
It was a startling thought, but she realized instantly that it was the truth. Nails was unquestionably the most attractive man she had ever met in her life-but she could have resisted him with ease if only she had Jim.
She felt a sudden sadness as she realized that now it could never be. Jim was gone from her forever.
There was only Nails now, and the driving excitement he was able to produce in her.
Resignedly, she rested her head on his chest. "Take me, Nails," she said sadly, a lump in her throat. "Take me and make love to me."
She felt his strong arms tighten around her.
Then the door-which they had neglected to lock after Zita had left-burst open abruptly.
Jim stood there glaring at them, his mouth a thin, hard line, his eyes steady.
"Let her go," he said quietly.
Then he shut the door behind him and walked inside.
CHAPTER-TWELVE
"What is this?" said Nails. He released his grip on Robin and backed away slightly. "A good question," said Jim.
"It's customary to knock before entering an office," said Nails.
"It's also customary to do some legitimate work in an office," Jim responded. "Not make passes at secretaries."
"What I do is my business."
"Not in this case it isn't," said Jim firmly.
"Get out of here, Jim."
Jim ignored him. He looked at Robin. "Button your blouse," he told her. Obediently, Robin complied.
"Now listen," said Nails. "Where do you think you are, anyway? This is my office."
"Shut up," said Jim.
Nails looked flabbergasted. "You're out of your mind."
"Shut up." He looked at Robin. "All set?" he asked her.
"Now just a second," said Nails. "All set for what?"
"For leaving this dump, that's what."
"She's not going anyplace. She's got work to do."
"Not here she doesn't."
Nails face was hard. "I've had enough out of you," he said tightly. "You're fired. Now go on, beat it."
Jim smiled grimly. "You're about five minutes too late," he said. "My resignation is already on Zita's desk."
Nails looked surprised.
"Right," said Jim, answering the question in his eyes. "I've quit. I got the word this morning that I've been hired at a good publishing house. So I'm no longer in your employ."
"Fine," said Nails, getting hold of himself instantly. "Then get out of my office."
"In due time," said Jim. "As soon as Robin is ready."
"She's staying here."
"No she's not. She's quitting too. I took the trouble to ask the new people I'll be working with if they could use a secretary. It so happens they can-and Robin has the job."
Robin looked at Jim in surprise.
He smiled at her. "That's if you want it," he said.
A great wave of relief flowed through her. "Oh thank you, Jim. Thank you." She reached out and took his hand.
Nails let out a sigh. "Well," he said, "if that's the way you want it...."
"That's the way we want it, indeed," said Jim. "Come on, Robin, let's get out of this dump."
Robin hesitated. "Just one minute, Jim." She let go of his hand and reached it out to Nails.
He took it and shook it. He smiled. "I understand," he said.
Robin smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Nails." Then she was out in the street with Jim, and she felt happier than she'd ever felt in her life.
"Where are we going, honey?" she asked him as they strode along together, hand in hand.
"My apartment," said Jim. "Okay?"
She nuzzled him with the side of her face. "Of course."
"I hope you don't mind my having quit your job for you."
Robin shook her head. "I'm so glad you did, Jim. Oh, Jim! I was so afraid I'd never see you again."
Jim laughed. "I was such a damn fool," he berated himself. "You loved me all along, and I was too blind to see it."
"No blinder than me," said Robin.
"Well, I'm glad it's all over now. Everything's-going to be fine from here on."
"Did you really get a good job?"
"Oh, the best," said Jim. "A twenty-five dollar a week raise, and plenty of chance for advancement. And that's with a reputable outfit, too; not some cheesy newspaper."
"I'm so glad for you."
Jim smiled. Robin could tell he felt happy. "And you'll be working there, too. You'll like it. The staff is real nice. No witches like Zita to cause trouble."
Robin laughed. "She's out of a job too, you know. Nails just fired her."
Jim shook his head, amused. "This has been quite a day for Nails. Somehow I have the feeling he'll hire Zita back. I think he needs to have somebody around who will keep feeding his ego."
"Who cares," said Robin happily. "I'm just glad we're out of there."
"Yes," said Jim. "So am I."
They reached his apartment and went inside. Robin looked around contentedly. Someday soon, she knew, she'd be sharing it with him as his wife.
Now, though, she was just his girlfriend. But it was enough.
They closed the door and kissed tenderly. "I love you," Jim said softly.
The words sounded beautiful to Robin. She had been sure she would never hear them. "I love you too," she said.
They kissed again. Then Jim said, "Well, let me show you around."
He gave her a complete tour. She felt happy and safe with him.
"You know," she said, "I'm proud of the way you just burst into Nails' office this afternoon. You looked like a knight or something, coming to rescue a damsel in distress."
"Only you weren't really in distress," Jim kidded.
"I was too!" Robin pouted. "I was distressed about you, that's what!"
They laughed together.
"Come here," said Jim softly. He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. She followed happily.
Gently, Jim took her in his arms. "I'm going to marry you," he told her. "I know," she smiled.
"Then you accept?" he grinned.
"With all my heart," she answered. She stretched her neck and pecked him on the lips. "Sealed with a kiss," she said.
"Sealed," he answered.
They kissed each other silently for several minutes. Then, without a word, Jim began slowly undressing her.
She felt herself trembling with desire for him. Suddenly she recognized the difference in her feelings for Jim and for Nails. With Nails it was nothing but raw, violent sex. Exciting, perhaps, but ultimately so empty.
But with Jim it would be full and meaningful. There was love between them, and respect.
And that made all the difference.
Robin shuddered joyfully as he unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. She raised her arms as he reached around her to undo the catch to her brassiere.
He hugged her to him. "You're luscious," he said.
She sighed and kissed him warmly. "I love you, Jim."
He led her to the bed. Together they sat down on it. They kissed. She felt his warm palm over her breast. With her own hand, she pressed it against her.
They lay back on the bed together. Jim kissed her tenderly on the mouth.
Robin gasped with pleasure as he ran his lips down along her neck, kissing the firm flesh, snaking his tongue into her ear.
"Oh Jim!" she moaned.
"Robin," he said excitedly.
He brought his face down to her full breasts.
"Jim," she gasped.
He ran his tongue around the nipples. They became hard and sensitive. She trembled with excitement.
"Don't stop kissing me there," she said.
"I love you," he replied. "I love you."
His hands reached down to her skirt. Slowly, he drew it up around her thighs. She arched her back with pleasure. He rolled down her stockings and threw them onto a chair. His fingers ran hungrily around her thighs, reveling in their softness.
She churned with him excitedly. He was molding her like putty. She knew he was going to be better than Nails. She could hardly wait.
"Hurry," she begged him.
Excitedly, he removed her panties. Then she pulled down the zipper of her skirt and took it off. She lay there naked, holding her arms out to him.
"Hurry," she said again. "I want you so badly."
Hurriedly, Jim removed his clothes. Then he was lying beside her. She shivered with passion.
"I love you so much," she murmured into his chest.
"Darling," he said.
"Come to me, sweetheart."
They held each other tightly, moving rhythmically together as if they were dancing to music that only they could hear.
"I can't wait anymore," she said.
Then she was blinded by the excitement that rose within her like an exploding volcano, overpowering her, carrying her to heights she had never before experienced.
She felt a warm sensation of love caressing him, the man she loved, until they both reached a peak together and then subsided into a drained and empty heap on the rumpled bedspread.
After a few minutes, Robin was calm enough to speak. "That was wonderful," she said with a smile. She touched his body gently with her hand. "You're marvelous."
"You too," he said. He moved her so that her head was resting in the crook of his arm. "I love you, Robin."
"I love you, Jim," she said.
She lay in his arms peacefully, staring at the ceiling. Everything, she knew now, was going to be all right.
She had the man she wanted most in the whole world.
And, as she closed her eyes and began to doze blissfully off to sleep in his arms, she made a silent vow never to do anything to risk losing him for as long as she lived.
