FOR SALE: Romance

“Shane!  There you are!  Thank God you came in!” 

Leaning across the receptionist’s desk to retrieve her phone messages,  red-haired Shane O’Shannessy turned toward the sound of her best friend’s voice.  Tracy Mills rushed toward her, her face looking flustered and pale.

“Tracy, what on earth is the matter?  You look like you’re ready to fall apart.”

          “Danny just called.  Carrie fell off her bicycle and Danny thinks she broke her arm.   He’s taking her over to the hospital emergency room.”

          “Oh, Trace, I’m sorry.  Anything I can do to help?”

          “As a matter of fact there is.”   Dark-haired and brown-eyed, Tracy was shorter than Shane and she always seemed to be in a tither.  Trouble seemed to follow her like a homeless puppy.   “I got a floor call just before I talked to Danny.   I’m supposed to meet a man named McKittrick at the Sanford Estate in fifteen minutes.   Do you think you could you meet him for me?”

“For heavensake, look at me!   I was taking the day off to do some cleaning.”   Shane glanced down at her snug-fitting jeans.  Red and white paint smudges and furniture stain collided in artful splotches across her thighs and her sweatshirt looked even worse.   “My hair’s a mess--I only stopped by to check my messages.   I won’t even have my car till five o’clock this afternoon.   I’m driving an old beat-up Chevy the garage loaned me till mine is done.”