the next ten miles she considered stopping at a phone booth and begging off. She didn’t have the heart for that, either.
Relax, A.J. ordered herself, and tried to imagine she was home in her apartment, doing long, soothing yoga exercises. It helped, and as the tension in her muscles eased, she turned up the radio. She kept it high until she turned the engine off in front of the tidy suburban home she’d helped pick out.
A.J. always felt a sense of self-satisfaction as she strolled up the walk. The house suited Clarissa, with its neat green lawn and pretty white shutters. It was true that with the success of her books and public appearances Clarissa could afford a house twice as big in Beverly Hills. But nothing would fit her as comfortably as this tidy brick ranch.
Shifting the brown bag that held wine under her arm, A.J. pushed open the door she knew was rarely locked. “Hello! I’m a six-foot-two, three-hundred-and-twenty-pound burglar come to steal all your jewelry. Care to give me a hand?”
“Oh, did I forget to lock it again?” Clarissa came bustling out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on an already smeared and splattered apron. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove, her lips already curved in greeting.
“Yes, you forgot to lock it again.” Even with an armload of wine, A.J. managed to hug her. Then she kissed both cheeks as she tried to unobtrusively sniff out what was going on in the kitchen.
“It’s meat loaf,” Clarissa told her. “I got a new recipe.”
“Oh.” A.J. might have managed the smile if she hadn’t remembered the last meat loaf so clearly. Instead she concentrated on the woman. “You look wonderful. I’d swear you were running into L.A. and sneaking into Elizabeth Arden’s once a week.”
“Oh, I can’t be bothered with all that. It’s too much worrying that causes lines and sags, anyway. You should remember that.”
“So I look like a hag, do I?” A.J. dropped her portfolio on the table and stepped out of her shoes.
“You know I didn’t mean that, but I can tell you’re worried about something.”
“Dinner,” A.J. told her, evading. “I only had time for a half a sandwich at lunch.”
“There, I’ve told you a dozen times you don’t eat properly. Come into the kitchen. I’m sure everything’s about ready.”
Satisfied that she’d distracted Clarissa, A.J. started to follow.
“Then you can tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“Doesn’t miss a trick,” A.J. muttered as the doorbell rang.
“Get that for me, will you?” Clarissa cast an anxious glance at the kitchen. “I really should check the brussels sprouts.”
“Brussels sprouts?” A.J. could only grimace as Clarissa disappeared into the kitchen. “Bad enough I have to eat the meat loaf, but brussels sprouts. I should have had the hamburger.” When she opened the door her brows were already lowered.
“You look thrilled to see me.”
One hand still on the knob, she stared at David. “What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner.” Without waiting for an invitation, David stepped forward and stood with her in the open doorway. “You’re tall. Even without your shoes.”
A.J. closed the door with a quiet snap. “Clarissa didn’t explain this was a business dinner.”
“I think she considers it purely social.” He hadn’t yet figured out why he hadn’t gotten the very professional Ms. Fields out of his mind. Maybe he’d get some answers before the evening was up. “Why don’t we think of it that way—A.J.?”
Manners had been ingrained in her by a quietly determined mother. Trapped, A.J. nodded. “All right, David. I hope you enjoy living dangerously.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She couldn’t resist the smile. “We’re having meat loaf.” She took the bottle of champagne he held and examined the label. “This should help. Did you happen to have a big lunch?”
There was a light in her eyes he’d never noticed before. It was a laugh, a joke, and very appealing. “What are you getting at?”
She patted his shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best to go into these things unprepared. Sit down and I’ll fix you a drink.”
“Aurora.”
“Yes?” A.J. answered automatically before she bit her tongue.
“Aurora?” David repeated, experimenting with the way it sounded in his voice. “That’s what the A stands for?”
When A.J. turned to him her eyes were narrowed. “If just one person in the business calls me that, I’ll know exactly where they got it from. You’ll pay.”
He ran a finger down the side of his nose, but didn’t quite hide the smile. “I never heard a thing.”
“Aurora, was that—” Clarissa stopped in the kitchen doorway and beamed. “Yes, it was David. How lovely.” She studied both of them, standing shoulder to shoulder just inside her front door. For the instant she concentrated, the aura around them was very clear and very bright. “Yes, how lovely,” she repeated. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I appreciate your asking me.” Finding Clarissa as charming as he had the first time, David crossed to her. He took her hand, but this time brought it to his lips. Pleasure flushed her cheeks.
“Champagne, how nice. We’ll open it after I sign the contracts.” She glanced over his shoulder to see A.J. frowning. “Why don’t you fix yourself and David a drink, dear? I won’t be much longer.”
A.J. thought of the contracts in her portfolio, and of her own doubts. Then she gave in. Clarissa would do precisely what Clarissa wanted to do. In order to protect her, she had to stop fighting it and accept. “I can guarantee the vodka—I bought it myself.”
“Fine—on the rocks.” David waited while she went to a cabinet and took out a decanter and glasses.
“She remembered the ice,” A.J. said, surprised when she opened the brass bucket and found it full.
“You seem to know Clarissa very well.”
“I do.” A.J. poured two glasses, then turned. “She’s much more than simply a client to me, David. That’s why I’m concerned about this program.”
He walked to her to take the glass. Strange, he thought, you only noticed her scent when you stood close, very close. He wondered if she used such a light touch to draw men to her or to block their way. “Why the concern?”
If they were going to deal with each other, honesty might help. A.J. glanced toward the kitchen and kept her voice low. “Clarissa has a tendency to be very open with certain people. Too open. She can expose too much of herself, and leave herself vulnerable to all manner of complications.”
“Are you protecting her from me?” A.J. sipped from her drink.
