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'Bribery and corruption!' Quincy accused.
'Bribery,' he admitted wryly, smiling. 'I didn't say anything about corruption—none was offered, none was intended.'
'Well, that's a relief,' she said, and he held out his hand.
'Is it a deal?'
She considered both his suggestion and his hand for a few seconds, then accepted both with a faint sigh. 'It's a deal.'
He released her hand and stood up, his lean body uncoiling gracefully until he towered above her, that black head almost seeming to touch the ceiling as she looked up at him.
'I'll go and put Billy out of his misery,' he said, moving towards the door.
'He left you here deliberately,' Quincy accused, and over his shoulder Joe grinned at her with shameless amusement.
'Obvious, wasn't he? He has great faith in my ability to persuade the opposite sex to do what he wants it to do.'
'How touching,' Quincy said coldly, and he laughed as he went out of the door. Quincy stayed where she was, thinking that, despite Billy Griffith's steely charm and unreal smiles, it was Joe Aldonez who was the dangerous one of the two—and Billy Griffith clearly knew it. Now Quincy knew it, too, and she would not forget it. Forewarned is forearmed, she told herself, as she heard her parents outside saying goodbye and then the sound of a car moving purringly away in the spring night.
CHAPTER TWO
Her parents were very late leaving for their dinner date, and left in an excited flurry, reminding Quincy to ring the restaurant and warn them that Mr and Mrs Jones would be an hour later than they had planned. Quincy made the call, then went into the kitchen to start getting supper for herself and Bobby. The idea of macaroni cheese no longer held such great appeal, she decided, holding the fridge door open and staring indifferently at the assembled contents. The easiest thing to make would be a cheese omelette, so she collected a carton of eggs and some cheese.
While she was whisking the eggs, Brendan appeared in the doorway, hovering uncertainly and watching her as though he had never seen her before.
'Hi,' she said, then remembered asking him to supper. 'Oh, have you come for your macaroni cheese, because if you have it's cheese omelette, do you still want some?'
He frowned but nodded. 'Thanks, that sounds fine.'
Quincy dropped some butter in the pan and watched it melt. Brendan leaned against the wall, his eyes on her, but Quincy's thoughts were elsewhere, she was barely conscious that he was in the room.
'I don't think it's a good idea,' Brendan said suddenly in a flat voice, and she glanced round, starting.
'Don't you? I'm sorry, I just went off the idea of macaroni cheese—how would you like some soup instead?'
'Not the supper,' he said in an impatient voice, his brows knitted. 'This idea of going up to London!'
She felt her cheeks glowing, and turned her head away quickly. 'Oh, that!'
'You'll be out of your element,' Brendan said roughly. 'You're not that sort of girl.'
Indignant, Quincy asked crossly: 'What sort of girl is that? Good heavens, all that will happen is that I'll be taken out to dinner by Joe Aldonez—they aren't planning anything more lethal than caviar and champagne for two.' Having said that she felt herself drifting back into the half-dream which had been engrossing her, her mind's eye picturing how it would be, and Brendan gave an irritated little snort.
'It's started already, hasn't it?'
'What has?' the butter had begun to smoke and change colo
ur and Quincy hurriedly poured the whisked egg into the pan.
'That kiss,' said Brendan in tones of disgust.
Quincy bent her head, her face very flushed, and attended to the half-cooked omelette, folding it neatly so that the softly melting grated cheese could continue to cook inside the perfect semi-circle of golden egg.
'You don't want to get involved with people like that,' Brendan informed her. 'Don't you realise what sort of life he must lead?'
Quincy had realised exactly what sort of life a top singing star must lead. She had read gossip items and stories in magazines about girls throwing themselves at their idols and she had no intention of getting involved with Joe Aldonez, but for some peculiar reason she found it very annoying to have Brendan giving her a gypsy's warning. Ignoring what he was saying, she tipped the cooked omelette out of the pan on to a warmed dish, and slid it into the warming compartment of the oven while she turned to cook another one.
'Listen to me, Quincy,' said Brendan, shifting on his feet in a baulked, frustrated way. 'You're a very innocent girl, you know.'
