Любовница поневоле. Марина Эльденберт

      “What else is new?” She hadn’t intended to sound forlorn, but Sydney could almost read her mind, so there was no point in covering up.

      “Is there something between the two of you?”

      “We’ve just met, Sydney.”

      “Yeah, but it only takes a moment. What do you think our mother has done to me? She’s signed me up for one of her fund-raisers, and I have to stand on a platform in front of a bunch of women to be sold to the highest bidder for one evening.”

      She made no pretense at controlling the mirth. “Strut your stuff, Sydney. It’s just a local fun thing; only people who live in Victoria participate. Otherwise, it would be unsavory.”

      “Sure, but I don’t live here. As far as she’s concerned, neither of us has left home. Her first and last question no matter how often we talk is when am I coming home?”

      “I know. Are you going to participate in that rookery?”

      “I don’t have a choice, but I think I’ll pay someone to bid high for me.”

      “You’re crazy.”

      “I’m smart, and you bet I won’t be the only man to do that. You might try being clever and pay attention to that guy you’re following around. That’s a good man.”

      “I’m not blind, Sydney.”

      “I’m glad to know that; I’d begun to wonder. You need a man who’s more clever than you are and who knows it. I have a feeling this one fills that bill.”

      “What? How can you... Sydney, this is my call, and I’m terminating it.”

      His laughter rang out. “You’ll never change. Get too close to your truth, and you close the door. When you come this way, bring him to see me. Bye.”

      She hung up. Pensive. Not much chance of that.

      * * *

      “What kind of audience did you have?” she asked Jake when he called an hour later. She’d told herself that she waited up to interview him about his lecture, but when she heard his voice she had to admit that her true reason had nothing to do with work.

      “Wonderful. Jacked up my ego. Can you come down to the bar?”

      She dressed hurriedly in a green silk jumpsuit and met him a few minutes later. As thanks for her trouble, his slow gaze made a seductive trip from her head to her feet before resting on her face. To her disgust, she looked downward, flustered and embarrassed.

      “Beautiful.” As though the word was for his ears alone, he barely murmured it. He gave her an account of his lecture, a list of the round-table members who discussed his talk and his work, and his views on the audience’s reaction. Stunned at his thoughtfulness and kindness, she relaxed, unaware that her tough reporter’s cloak had slipped a fraction.

      In the bar, they talked and sipped ginger ale, and Jake didn’t question his enjoyment of those companionable moments. He couldn’t say why he told her about the woman he’d seen walking across Park Avenue backward, stopping traffic for at least once in her life. On the other hand, he didn’t mention the stranger who he was certain had tailed him; she didn’t need to know that.