Instead of retreating, Mary caught the lapels of Harriet’s jacket and pulled her toward her. “I’ve been hoping to get you alone for a while now, Mr. Michaels. You’re a difficult man to catch.”
“Possibly because I don’t wish to be caught,” Harriet said while struggling to free herself from Mary’s grasp.
“Let’s put an end to the pretense, shall we? I mean, it’s been fun and all, but you can only flirt with a girl for so long before you’re expected to act.”
What on earth was she on about? “I think you’re mistaken, Mary. I’ve not been flirting.”
“Sure you have.” She chuckled and leaned in closer, her breath sweeping over the edge of Harriet’s chin. “You’re always smiling and praising my looks, thanking me for the work I do, and you even gave me a biscuit one time.”
“I was being nice.” Although in hindsight, Harriet could see she might have overdone it a notch. But she’d felt bad for Mary, having to clean up the mess made by nine men throughout the day. The privy was especially challenging. So she’d offered her a biscuit to make her feel better.
“You can dress it up however you like,” Mary said, “but I know you’re keen on my attentions. Once we’ve enjoyed each other’s company, I’m sure you’ll agree to a far more permanent attachment.”
And before Harriet could manage the sidestep she’d hoped to achieve, Mary’s mouth landed against her own. She sputtered and turned her head sideways. Ugh! Her first kiss, and it had to be with a girl.
“Come on, Mr. Michaels.” The blasted creature was starting to undo her trousers.
“Stop it,” Harriet choked. She’d been completely unprepared for such an assault. Her only thought in the moment was of escape. She grabbed Mary’s wrists and shoved them aside. “Mary. I—”
The door to the print room opened again and Mr. Evans entered. “Sorry. I didn’t realize…um…do carry on.”
“Wait,” Harriet called. “I was just coming to find you.”
“You were?” Mr. Evans could not have sounded more surprised.
“You invited me for that drink, remember?” She managed to send him a pleading look over Mary’s shoulder.
“Right. Of course.”
“Sorry.” Harriet met Mary’s gaze full on. “I’ve got to go. If you don’t mind.”
“I rather do,” Mary said, “but I suppose we can always resume our tryst later.”
Harriet sent her gaze skyward. Heaven help her.
Perhaps a tougher approach was required. Clearly good manners were working against her in this particular instance. “Let’s not.”
“But—”
“My wife would not approve,” Harriet said, latching onto the single most convincing argument she could think of for a man to avoid a pretty woman’s attentions.
Mary blinked. “Oh. I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize you were married.”
“Rest assured, I’d gladly accept your…um…offer if I weren’t.” Harriet added a nod for good measure and managed to edge away from Mary. “I’ll see you later. All right?”
She wished her a pleasant evening for good measure while grabbing her things and hurrying across to where Mr. Evans stood waiting. He also said goodbye to Mary before following Harriet through the building toward the front exit. They arrived on the street soon after, with neither saying a word until they’d walked several steps.
“I gather you’re not keen on Mary then?” Mr. Evans finally asked, his cheerful tone prompting Harriet to laugh.
“Not in the least.” She smirked. “You can have her, if you like.”
“As generous as that is,” he said, keeping his voice jovial, “I’d like to decline.”
“The choice may not be up to you. Turns out, Mary can be very insistent.” More so than Harriet had ever thought possible. She’d obviously underestimated her interest.
“Good thing I got there when I did.”
Harriet heartily agreed. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if Mary had tried to grope her. “Thank you for showing up. And for agreeing to play along.”
