For the first time, she felt a tinge of sadness at the memory.
Leila was nodding, her eyes focused on her orange plastic glass as she ran a fingertip around the rim. “I’m not supposed to…” She glanced furtively back at her husband. “Would you read it? And maybe give me a quote? Only if you like it. Only if you…” She clamped her mouth closed.
“Of course I will,” said Joan. “But I don’t know how a quote would help you.”
“We’d put it on the cover.”
“But I’m…nobody special.”
“Are you kidding?”
Joan took another drink. “Really. You guys. You’re embarrassing me.”
She felt an arm across her back. Even with all the hugging in this family, she instinctively knew it was Anthony.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“We’re getting her drunk,” said Nadine.
He nodded toward Joan’s margarita. “You be careful of those.”
Joan took a defiant swig. “It’s a good day to get drunk.”
It was.
She was suddenly happy to be here. Anthony’s house was a great place to hide out emotionally for a while. Her parents were far away. Indigo was far away. Anthony was still her agent for a couple more days. And his family liked her books.
She held her glass out to Nadine. “Can I have another?”
Nadine took the glass with a grin.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said Anthony.
“I’m a big girl,” said Joan, with a toss of her hair. A few strands caught on his face, and he brushed them away, smoothing a hand over her scalp.
“And you can take care of yourself,” he mumbled.
It was probably a dig, but she chose to ignore it. “Absolutely.”
ANTHONY’S BROTHER Brett eased himself down in the next lawn chair, parked his beer on the grass and settled his second, loaded burger on a paper plate in his lap.
“So, what’s the deal?” he asked Anthony now that they had a moment alone.
“The deal?” Anthony took a sip of his own beer. He’d gone with a Bud Light. He figured Joan was drinking enough for both of them.
“You’ve been Jules Burrell’s agent all these years, and you didn’t say anything?”
Anthony slanted his brother a look of disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
“Hey, we’re family.”
“So I should risk getting disbarred to share gossip?”
It was Brett’s turn to shrug. “I’m just saying, you could have hinted.”
Anthony snorted.
“She’s a woman,” said Brett.
“She is,” Anthony agreed.
“A hot woman.”
Anthony didn’t answer.
“Don’t you think?”
Anthony’s gaze strayed to where Joan was laughing with Nadine. Not that he hadn’t been watching her most of the evening anyway. “I’m not blind.”
“And you brought her here.”
“Yeah.”
“That means something’s going on between you.”
“No. That means things are uncomfortable for her in Indigo right now.”
“You could have taken her anywhere.”
Anthony slanted his brother an enigmatic grin. “I knew you’d want to meet her.”
“What a load of crap.”
“You want the truth?”
“No. I just want to gossip about your sex life.”
“We’re not having a sex life.”
“Sucks to be you.”
Brett didn’t know the half of it.
“She seems to like Nadine,” said Brett, taking a bite of his burger.
“That’s because Nadine keeps feeding her margaritas. Do you think your wife could slow it down a little?”
Brett licked a smear of mayonnaise from his thumb. “It could work in your favor.”
“
“Only Nadine.”
“She’s your wife.”
“What? You think I sleep with other women?”
“My point is, it’s hardly the same thing.”
“And my point is, some guys need more of an advantage than others.”
“You looking for a fight?”
Brett chuckled and leaned back in his lawn chair. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me, bro.”
“I don’t have any frustrations,” said Anthony. And he didn’t, expect for a nagging, unrequited lust, a possible murderer on the loose and the impending loss of his favorite client.
He downed a healthy swig of his beer.
On the flight over, he’d started having ridiculous thoughts about winning Joan back. After going through an extensive list of agents in his mind, he realized none of them were good enough for her. Not that he was good enough. But he wanted her anyway.
He considered telling Brett the truth. Brett knew women better than Anthony did, and he might have some useful advice for winning Joan back. But the feeling lasted only a split second. Close families were wonderful, but gossip was a natural hazard.
“What?” asked Brett, peering intently at Anthony.
Anthony took another drink. “Nothing.”
Brett glanced at Joan, then back at Anthony. “Something’s going on here.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Then why are you two a whole yard apart?”
“Because she’s talking to your wife.”
Brett set his plate down on the grass. “Listen, Anthony-”
“Don’t do this.”
“You were there for me with Nadine.”
Anthony drank again. “Joan’s not Nadine. She’s a client.”
“She’s more than a client.”
Anthony glared at his brother. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah. You do. You just don’t want me to talk about it to anyone else.”
That was true enough. And Brett couldn’t be trusted to keep anything from Nadine. And given that Nadine was quickly becoming Joan’s best friend, Anthony was keeping his mouth firmly shut.
“You had a fight with her,” Brett stated.
“She didn’t want to do the
“And you thought she should.”
Anthony snorted. “Of course I thought she should. Only a fool would pass up an opportunity like that.”
“And Joan’s a fool.”
