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15 Channning
15 Channing PalmerChanning leaned back. She studied the woman who’d materialized in her office doorway. Nine-thirty on Monday morning and Nora had made it into work. Her best friend’s parka was open to reveal her favorite long-sleeved shirt with the pearl snaps, tucked into faded, skin-tight Wranglers that ended in well-polished cowgirl boots. Nora’s “happy outfit”. The apparel plus the wicked grin advertised that a hot s****l encounter was the reason for the late arrival. Only one man had been edging close enough to be a candidate. Pursing her lips, Channing said, “You promised me you wouldn’t hook up with that bad-boy cop.” “Turns out he’s not all that bad.” Nora snickered. She pranced into the room and peeled off her parka. “Not bad at all.” Channing extended both index fingers
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