always commented on, except by Patrick.
Then there was Daniel, Bryan’s father, who never said anything about Amanda. But Bryan knew his parents still had lingering feelings for each other.
“Mom,” Bryan said, “I want you to meet Lindsay Morgan.”
“Lindsay.” Amanda took both of Lucy’s hands in hers. Bryan was alarmed by the sheen of tears in his mother’s eyes. What was that about? Surely the mere sight of Lucy didn’t fill Amanda with despair. She’d never been like some moms, thinking no girl was good enough for her boys.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, and Lucy said, “Oh, Mrs. Elliott, won’t you join us?” Without even realizing it, Lucy had slipped into the role of hostess.
It seemed a natural for her. What was more, it felt somehow…right.
“Call me Amanda, please. And I can see you all are in the middle of something.
Bryan insisted I come down and say hi, but I’ll be on my way now.” But her turndown lacked conviction. Bryan could tell she wanted to stay. Though she often claimed she’d been much happier away from the big, noisy Elliott clan, Bryan knew she sometimes missed being a part of something larger than herself.
“Oh, nonsense,” said Karen, and Bryan could have kissed his aunt. “You come join us.”
“You can take Finola’s chair,” said Bryan’s uncle Shane. “Obviously she can’t tear herself away from work, not even to gloat that she’s in first place.”
This comment started a round of arguments, as it had been intended to do. Amanda shrugged and took the last empty chair where Finola’s place card sat. Bryan watched his father’s face to gauge his reaction. Daniel’s gaze hadn’t left Amanda since she’d entered the room, and any fool could tell he was anything but indifferent. But he was guarded enough that Bryan, even with all his training in body language, couldn’t tell whether Daniel was pleased or angry to have his ex-wife-his first ex-wife-thrust into his company. They sat only two chairs away from each other, with a table corner between them, so they could easily converse if they wanted.
More appetizers appeared, followed by the soup and salad choices Lucy had made.
It would have been hard for her to go wrong-everything on the Une Nuit menu was designed to be mixed and matched. But Bryan was nonetheless pleased with and, yes, proud of the menu Lucy had put together. He told himself it was because he wanted her to appear to be a good match for him, as befitted their cover. But he knew it went deeper than that, which troubled him. He had no business getting so attached to her. Given the progress they were making on the Alliance Trust case, she wouldn’t be with him for long.
As various members of his family got up to stretch their legs between courses, a certain amount of musical chairs took place at the table. Bryan found himself seated next to his cousin Liam, one of Uncle Michael and Aunt Karen’s sons. Liam was the chief financial officer at EPH, and just before the main course, he’d made a brief speech detailing the profits at each of the four EPH magazines.
He’d also read a prepared speech from Patrick congratulating all of his children and grandchildren for rising to the occasion and making the competition a real horse race.
That had produced a few snide comments about what, exactly, Patrick had intended besides increasing profits, but Lucy, of all people, managed to smooth over the outbursts of acrimony and keep the evening on a pleasant note.
“So, Liam, how close is the race?” Bryan asked his cousin confidentially. “You gave us the raw numbers, but I understand the winner is the magazine that grows the most, percentagewise.”
“It’s closer than you can imagine,” Liam said in a low voice. “But I chose to underplay that. Other than to say that Charisma is in first place, I don’t want the other editors to know just how close they are. It’ll only make them crazier.”
“Things are kind of tense, huh?”
“You have no idea. Everyone’s on their best behavior tonight, maybe out of consideration for you and Lindsay and some of the others here who aren’t directly involved with the magazines. But I’m afraid-really afraid-that this crazy competition of Granddad’s is going to create rifts in the family that can never be healed.”
“You’re talking about Finola?”
“She was already on shaky ground with Granddad. Frankly I was relieved she didn’t show tonight. I’m not sure she could have buried the hatchet, even for one evening.”
“In one of her brothers’ heads, maybe. Well, she’s always had something to prove.”
Stash and three waiters chose that moment to appear with several of Une Nuit’s famously decadent desserts as well as some pistachio sorbet for those with more modest appetites. When serving was completed, he leaned down to whisper something to Bryan.
“Oh. I’ll be right up.”
He excused himself from the table, but before he went upstairs, he stopped by Lucy’s chair. “Any interest in meeting Britney Spears?”
“Really?” Lucy squeaked. “She’s here?”
“Having drinks.”
Lucy didn’t have to be asked twice. He thought it was charming that she was so starstruck, that her unfortunate experience with Cruz Tabor hadn’t made her bitter.
Upstairs the bar was packed, but the crowd seemed to part for Bryan. Many of the regulars knew him and nodded, giving curious glances to Lucy, but he didn’t want to take time for introductions now.
He found the Britney Spears party at the very epicenter of the crowd. The star stopped midconversation to greet him. He welcomed her warmly to Une Nuit, introduced her to Lucy, who managed to squeak out a nervous greeting. He ordered a bottle of Cristal on the house, handed Britney a card and told her to call him or Stash if she ever needed anything. He was about to leave when the flash of a camera caught his attention.
The first thing Bryan did was step between Lucy and the camera, which he couldn’t see, but he knew the direction it had come from. He didn’t relish having his own picture taken and usually managed to avoid it, since celebrity wasn’t exactly good for the anonymity required of an undercover operative. But better his face in a tabloid’s than Lucy’s.
With the second flash, he saw the perpetrator, a tall, skinny kid with frizzy hair and a pocket camera.
Bryan reached him in an instant, grabbed his arm and prevented him from taking another shot. “That’s not allowed in here.” He walked the kid to the front door.
“You’re throwing me out?” he said in a loud enough voice to garner attention.
“No. You give your camera to our hostess for safekeeping. She’ll give it back when you’re ready to leave.”
“Forget it, man,” the guy said, jerking his arm out of Bryan’s grasp and huffing out the door.
Bryan made a quick apology to Britney, who was gracious about it, and he and Lucy returned to the private party downstairs.
“That was cool,” Lucy said. “Thanks. You must think I’m silly.”
“No,” he said, but he was too preoccupied to say more. Should he have followed that kid, taken the camera away? He wasn’t one of the known paparazzi. Probably just a Britney fan. Still, fans sometimes sold their pictures to the tabloids.
Well, nothing he could do about it now.
The next morning, on the way home from their morning run, Bryan stopped at a newsstand and bought the latest issue of Global News Roundup, one of the tackiest tabloids on the market. Rather than celebrity news, the Roundup sported doctored photos of the president with his supposed alien baby, a giant squid the size of the Queen Mary, and stories about how the government was practicing mind control through chlorinated tap water.
“Not your usual reading material,” Lucy commented as Bryan paid the vendor a couple of bucks.
“I have my reasons.”
“Surely no paparazzi would stoop to publishing Britney’s picture in that rag.”
Bryan laughed. “No, I’m not worried about that.”
He didn’t explain further until they were home, showered, and had shared a breakfast of yogurt and whole- wheat bagels. She’d been pleased to discover Bryan didn’t always indulge in the high-fat fare from Une Nuit.
When the dishes were washed and put away, Bryan opened the briefcase he’d taken with him yesterday and produced a thick stack of Global News Roundup, to which he added the current issue.
“I have to leave again today.”
Lucy groaned. “I know your work is important, but I’m getting a little stir-crazy, stuck in your apartment all day by myself.”
