be that she wanted sex. But other than no park-bench sex, everything was great. So, why wasn’t she thrilled?
Suddenly she knew she couldn’t head home. She’d go stark raving mad locked in her small apartment.
She decided to head to her parents’.
Yes, that was just the thing.
If anything could drive all thoughts of sex out of her mind, it was her parents.
She could enlist her mother’s help planning the wedding. Her mother could definitely take Collin’s mother if it came to a showdown.
Ari pushed all thoughts of orgasms out of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about sex, or about the strange empty feeling she got whenever she thought about actually marrying Collin.
She was lucky to have a man so perfect for her.
Perfectly wonderful.
That pretty much summarized Adrienne Kelly’s life.
SIMON MASTERSON read the headline of Rag Magazine.
Reading its headline—or any other part of the tabloid magazine—wasn’t something he normally did. But this particular headline couldn’t be ignored.
If The Wait Doesn’t Kill You…The Answering System Will.
Celia Nixon, his assistant and the current bearer of bad news, waited nervously for a response.
She shifted from one foot to the other. Tall and blond, she always made Simon think of a Valkyrie from the ancient Norse myths. She protected his privacy and ran the office with a cool, efficient hand. He’d be lost without her.
But Celia was a worrier. She was good at it…probably because she had so much practice.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” he said, soothingly. “After all, the customers we’re marketing to are more prone to read the Financial Journal than Rag Magazine. This is nothing.”
“I don’t know, Simon.” There was uncertainty in her voice. “Rag Magazine is popular and has a huge circulation. Why, there’s probably not a grocery store in the entire country that doesn’t carry it. Even if our clients don’t buy it, they won’t be able to miss that headline. I just don’t think we can afford to ignore this.”
“I do. So don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“Really. Why don’t you get going on the plans for the reception, okay? I’m anxious for Cindy’s debut. Three months sounds like a long time, but really it isn’t. Actually it’s a little less than three months now and there’s still a lot to do.”
Celia gave him one last doubtful look before she shrugged and left his office.
Simon glanced at the magazine she’d left on his desk and shook his head.
Of course this wouldn’t be a problem. No one put any stock in publications like Rag Magazine. Now, if the Financial Journal had run a headline like that, he might worry. But a classy publication like the Journal would never run such a hyped-up story.
Having settled that particular problem in his mind, he promptly forgot all about the headline and went back to work. He had a few kinks to iron out before Cindy’s debut.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Talk to Daddy.”
Simon lost himself in the computer system, forgetting about the article, forgetting everything except a world of digital commands.
Here everything made sense. A always led to B, X always led to Y.
Orderly.
Dependable.
There were no worries about the future of his company riding on this one program. Cindy. His baby. Cutting-edge technology made user and consumer friendly.
Simon forgot all about the article as he ran through a part of the program that still needed some ironing out.
He lost himself in the solitary world of computer commands.
Hours later, Celia walked into the room. “Simon, Rag Magazine called for an interview, some guy named Newman—”
He looked up from his computer screen, glanced at the clock and noted he’d totally lost track of time again. It happened a lot when he was working.
“Sorry, what?”
“Rag Magazine called for an interview. They said that since SimonSays is known as an innovator in the answer-system market, you might want to make a comment on the article. They want to run a follow-up.”
“I hope you told them no.”
He turned back to the computer, the crisis settled in his mind.
“Of course I told them no,” Celia said. “But you’ve got another call on line one. I think you might want to take this one.”
He looked up impatiently from his screen. He just wanted to get this section right. “Who is it?”
“The Financial Journal. They want to interview you for their upcoming article on everyday stress and the impact that it has on twenty-first-century health.”
“The Financial Journal?” he asked weakly.
“Yes.”
Damn.
This was trouble.
2
THIS WAS TROUBLE.
Minutes after walking into her parents’ house last night Ari had known visiting them had been a mistake…a big mistake.
Things had been tense there since her father’s heart attack had forced him into an early retirement, but last night she realized just how bad it had gotten.
Instead of feeling comforted by the visit, Ari felt torn. She sympathized with her father’s frustration. After years of running a company, he’d forgotten how not to control things.
She sympathized with her mother’s annoyance. Having her father underfoot all day, every day, would drive her nuts. Just a short visit left her feeling drained and more than a little anxious.
Her parents’ relationship had always seemed so solid. Suddenly it seemed shaky, precarious. Ari didn’t know what to do to help either of them.
She had headed home, anxious for some peace and quiet.
Instead she’d found more trouble.
Bigger trouble.
She didn’t doubt her parents would work things out. They loved each other too much not to adjust to their new circumstances.
But this?
Ari
