Harmony and High Heels (Fort Worth Wranglers 2)

lating what she could do to all those pencils to really make him hurt, and that was when she found the dime. Her eyes went to the screws holding the pole she was handcuffed to to the wall and then back to the dime. It was almost too easy.

Slowly, she used the dime to work the screws loose and popped them out. Then she slid the cuff off the pole and she was a free woman again. She grabbed the key off the chair where Dalton had left it and unlocked the cuffs, letting them fall onto his desktop. A parting gift for him. She should slash his tires, but he probably drove a Maserati, and she really liked Maseratis. Plus that poor car hadn’t done anything to her. The same couldn’t be said for its owner.

It was time for Dalton to learn his lesson the hard way—no one handcuffed her unless she wanted to be handcuffed. On her way out the door, she gathered up all those sharpened pencils and stabbed them—one after another—into last year’s Super Bowl winning football. Or at least that was what was engraved on the tag outside of the clear plastic box it was displayed in.

Dalton Mane deserved everything she’d done to him and more. She hoped he was man enough to come after her and get what was coming to him.

* * *

Chapter 11

* * *

Dalton threw open the double doors to his office expecting the worst. He and Heath had just had their asses chewed out by the team owner, and returning to find Harmony in his office might have taken the sting out. But of course, he was right. She wasn’t there. Not that he’d expected her to be. She wouldn’t be the woman he thought she was if she’d just sat idly by and waited for him to return.

But good God, what a mess she’d made.

He walked to his desk, shaking his head as he saw the disaster that was his floor. Then again, he figured he’d had it coming. Locking Harmony up had been a big risk, but one he hadn’t felt like he’d had a choice about. An angry Harmony was a liability. Having a coach involved in a bar fight really wasn’t that big of a deal, but if Harmony had burst into Dalton’s meeting with the team owner and Commissioner Goodell, things would have gone downhill in a big damn hurry.

Barry Lamont thought women were put on this earth to decorate it and should be seen but never heard, and, well, Dalton didn’t know Commissioner Goodell’s stance on women, but he was pretty sure that a pissed-off Harmony could have turned Gloria Steinem against her own kind.

He picked up the drawers and fit them back into his desk and then knelt down and scooped up all of the junk he’d collected over the years. He pulled the trash can over. Now was as good a time as any to spring-clean the hell out of his office.

An hour later, he couldn’t get Harmony out of his head. He didn’t feel the need to apologize to her so much as he just wanted to see what horrible things she had planned in retaliation. Besides the pencil-stabbed football, which—he wasn’t going to lie—hurt a lot.

Figuring the least he could do was send her a balloon bouquet—or maybe some high-end jewelry—he hit the space bar to bring his computer screen to life. Flowers seemed a little too cliché, and no baked goods on earth could compare to what Harmony whipped up with ease. But he wasn’t really sure where to look for biker chic in balloons or jewelry—he’d been too broke to afford either when he was a member of the Bastards, so he figured he’d mess around on the Internet, see what he could find.

When he clicked the icon for his web browser, it didn’t come up. So he clicked it again. And again. And again. Still nothing.

He clicked the icon for his monthly financial reports.

Nothing.

He clicked the icon for the team roster.

Nothing.

He clicked on the Apple icon to restart the computer, but no Apple menu dropped down.

What in the hell had Harmony done to his computer?

Pranks were one thing, but now she was messing with his job.

He grabbed his cell to call IT, but it was dead, so he grabbed the charging cable hooked to his computer and plugged in the phone. He hit the intercom button on his desk phone.

“Yes?” Eleanor answered.

“Can you have IT come up here? My computer isn’t working.” Shit. He’d known Harm was smart, but he hadn’t taken her for a computer genius. Maybe he should have, considering who her sister was.

“Absolutely. And thank you so much for that raise. I feel very appreciated, and so does the entire support staff. You’re very generous.” Eleanor sounded extraordinarily happy.

What raise?

“Yes, well, you deserve it.” He let go of the intercom button as his mind whirled with possibilities.

The entire support staff? Harmony had given a raise to the entire support staff? Jesus. Just how generous had she been? He banged his hand on the keyboard, but all he got was a headache. He reached for his phone, but it still wasn’t charged enough to check email. Damn it. Five-Alarm Harm had struck again.

An hour later, IT still hadn’t fixed his computer.