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But her friend wore the most infuriatingly triumphant expression.
“That’s it! You dig this Greg Healey.” She clasped her hands together. “I’ll have Jack call him up and—”
“Oh, no, you won’t,” Lana warned, shaking her finger. “I do not like this guy. I just…don’t like the idea of him thinking I’m…loose.”
“But he doesn’t even know you.”
“He knows my name and where I work and where I live. God only knows how many people he could tell.”
Alex arched an eyebrow. “You practically beat him up. I’d say the man has as much incentive to keep it quiet as you do.”
She frowned. “I guess you’re right.”
“Besides, if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you call him and set the record straight?” Alex suggested with a sly smile.
Lana frowned harder. “No, thanks.”
“Okay,” Alex said with a shrug. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
Alex relented with a nod, then gestured toward the ornament-laden evergreen. “I think it’s leaning. Shall I warn the people in the apartment beneath you?”
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