How to Trap a Tycoon Elizabeth Bevarly (year 7 reading list txt) 📖

Her pale blond hair was swept atop her head, held in place by some invisible means of support. A few errant tendrils had escaped to frame her face, giving her an ethereal, almost angelic appearance. He couldn't help comparing her to a Pre-Raphaelite madonna with her delicate build, her huge, blue eyes, and her high, elegant cheekbones. Her mouth, too, seemed more beatific than the average woman's was, as if she had been touched at birth by some holy hand and was divinely blessed as a result.

She was just so naive, so ingenuous, so damned happy, Lucas thought uncomfortably. She couldn't possibly have even a nodding acquaintance with reality. Wherever Edie Mulholland lived, he knew it was, without doubt, an enchanted kingdom populated by fairies and sprites and unicorns and rainbows. Trolls and dragons like him would be completely unwelcome in such a fantastic place.

"Edie," he said by way of a greeting, trying not to gag on the word. Jeez, even her name was nice and sweet and pert and blond. "What are you doing here? I thought you only worked days."

She smiled easily. "I'm filling in for Dorsey. She had something she needed to do tonight."

"Oh." Then, without further ado, Lucas said, "Gimme a Tanqueray and tonic."

"Coming right up," she replied—happily, of course.

Lucas tried not to hurl.

And he tried not to be fascinated by the deft, capable way she prepared his drink and set it without flourish on the bar before him. As sweet and nice and polite and blond and nauseating as she was, Edie Mulholland, he had to admit, was one helluva bartender.

"Thanks," he said as he reached for the glass.

"Don't mention it," she replied—sunnily, he couldn't help but note.

He enjoyed a healthy taste of his drink, realized she was still standing in front of him, almost expectantly somehow, then remembered that Little Edie Sunshine was one of those bartenders who like to—he bit back another gag—make small talk. Uncertain why he felt compelled to indulge such a filthy, disgusting habit, Lucas found himself asking, "So. Edie. How was your day?"

Not surprisingly, she grinned brightly, and somehow, he refrained from curling his lip in disdain. "It's been great!" she announced with much animation. "Well, except for this afternoon."

Resigned to his fate, Lucas asked halfheartedly, "Um … what happened this afternoon?"

Edie frowned unhappily. He rejoiced at the sight. Very softly, very somberly, she told him, "I committed adultery."

Whoa! Now this was a newsworthy bulletin! Lucas was about to leap up and dance the dance of righteous victory when he remembered that Mulholland of Sunnybrook Farm was a single woman. "Edie," he said. "How could you commit adultery? You're not married."

She gazed at him blankly for a minute, clearly confused. Then, suddenly, her expression cleared, and she blushed like a summer rose. "Oh, not that kind of adultery," she said, lowering her voice even more. Then, in a clearer voice, she added, "I'd never do something like that. Hair adultery. I committed hair adultery."

"Hair adultery?" he echoed before he could stop himself.

She nodded. "I needed a bang trim really bad, but my usual stylist was out. So…" She glanced first right, then left, as if to make sure no one was listening. Then, lowering her voice again, she said, "So I made an appointment with a different stylist."

Evidently, this was a grave sin among women, Lucas surmised, because Edie looked as if she might shave her head in penance for committing such an egregious act of betrayal. "Uh … I see," he lied.

"What's worse," she continued, even though he had silently willed her not to, "the new stylist? She did a better job than my usual one. Now I want to go back to her next time. I feel so guilty."

He eyed her blandly. "Gee, I can see where that might cause some real turbulence in your otherwise happy existence."

She nodded. "Other than that, though," she concluded genially, "it was a really nice day."

Before he realized he was even thinking the question, Lucas heard himself ask, "Edie, do you ever wake up in a bad mood?"

She smiled—happily. "Never."

"Why not?"

She shrugged—pleasantly. "It's a waste of time."

"A waste of time," Lucas echoed incredulously.

She nodded—merrily.

He enjoyed another sip of his drink, then stated, "You're a Stepford Wife, aren't you, Edie?"

She laughed—spiritedly.

"Come on," he cajoled. "Admit it."

"I'm not a Stepford Wife," she denied—good-naturedly.

"Then you must be one of those pod people from outer space," he decided. "The real Edie Mulholland has to be snoozing in a space pod somewhere, where the body-snatchers left her. I bet she wakes up in bad mood. If she ever wakes up again."

Edie's eyes twinkled—gleefully. "I'm not a pod person from outer space, either. I just don't see the point in carrying around a lot of negative energy, that's all."

Lucas gaped at her in disbelief. "Hey, negative energy is what made this country great," he told her. "Negative energy has been responsible for some truly significant historical achievements all over the world."

"Like what?" she asked—dubiously but nonetheless cheerily.

He thought for a moment. "Well, like the Roman Empire , for example," he said. "Talk about your negative energy. Those guys had downright bloodlust going for them. Gladiators fighting to the death, peasant-eating lions, crucifixion. And look at all the amazing things they accomplished. That was one phenomenal civilization."

Edie eyed him—pleasantly. "The Romans actually learned everything they knew from the Etruscans," she pointed out. "And the Etruscans were pretty easygoing people. Well, except for that pesky human sacrifice business," she qualified. Hastily, she added, "But they were a primitive people. At any rate, they knew the value of living a good life."

Lucas narrowed his eyes at her. "Okay, I'll give you that one," he conceded. "But once the Romans got things up and running, nobody messed with them. Nobody."

"Actually, the Celts did," Edie objected—mildly. "They kicked Roman butt."

Lucas frowned. "Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that."

"And the Celts," Edie continued, blithely, "wild men though they were, still appreciated the beauty and