“Lauren leaned over and grabbed the bottle, pouring some into his glass. For a minute, they just sat next to each other in silence. Then Lauren said, "This is oddly familiar. Only it used to be whiskey."Michael smiled. "And it used to be straight out of the bottle. We've classed it up a bit, apparently.”

“Hmmm," he said, "Lauren Elizabeth Danner.Elizabeth is a beautiful name and so is Lauren. They suit you."Unable to endure the sweet torment of having him flirt with her, Lauren said repressively, "I was named after two maiden aunts.One of them had a squint and the other had warts."Nick ignored that and continued aloud. "Color of eyes,blue." He regarded her over the top of the file, his gray eyes intimate and teasing. "They are definitely blue.A man could lose himself in those eyes of yours-they're gorgeous.""My right eye used to wobble unless I wore my glasses," Lauren informed him blithely. "They had to operate on it.""A little girl with wobbly blue eyes and glasses on her nose," he reflected with a slow grin. "I'll bet you were cute.""I looked studious,not cute.”

“Beer bottles, whiskey bottles, brown glass, green. They fell to the lawn and I'd feel serene. Adam was king to my stilted queen.”

“The call was already under way when Lauren walked into his office. Nick gestured toward his chair and got up so taht she could sit at his desk and take notes.Two minutes after Lauren sat down, he leaned over her from behind, braced his hands on the desk on either side of her and brushed his lips across her hair.Lauren's self-control snapped. "Damn you, stop it!" she burst out."What?" "What?" "What?" three masculine voices chorused.Nick leaned toward the speaker and drawled, "My secretary thinks you're talking too fast,and she'd like you to stop it so she can catch up.""Well,all she had to do was ask," one offended male replied."I hope you're satisfied!" Lauren whispered furiously."I'm not," Nick chuckled in her ear. "But I'm going to be.”

“I used to tell your mother she looked like Sophia Lauren." He looks at me, frowning, and then it registers. "Oh God, some guy's using that line on you, isn't he?""Not just 'some guy'." I tell him. "The guy.”

“There is no use on crying over spilled milk, just pour yourself another glass.”