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“Yeah.”
It had been three weeks since Michael’s weekend with Susan. Three weeks since he’d cashed in their tickets to Hawaii, exchanging them for a couple of trips to Denver and several to Atlanta. Three weeks since he’d spoken to Susan. And in spite of the fact that she seemed to be on his mind twenty-four hours a day, he still couldn’t bring himself to call. Seth would have to do. For the fifth time in three weeks.
“She’s fine,” his ex-brother-in-law finally answered him. “Working her ass off as usual.”
“Yeah.” He’d expected that.
“How’s the new job?” Seth asked.
“Great.” A lot. of work: A lot of hotel rooms. But he’d never been happier.
“You ever planning to tell Susan about it?”
Someday. Maybe. But when he told Susan he’d have to tell her all of it. That was how they did things. He couldn’t give her only the basics, like he’d done with Seth. No, he’d spill it all. And when he did, she’d see right inside him, know how much the promotion meant to him, share his deepest feelings. He wouldn’t be able to accept her congratulations casually, either. He’d feel her happiness for him clear to his bones. And he wasn’t ready to get that close.
Without answering Seth, he asked, “She’s looking good?” Picking up the complimentary pad of paper and pen next to the phone, he drew a stick figure sitting on a bench.
“Fine.”
“The same?” If Michael hadn’t known what a good friend he had in Seth, he’d be doubting that the other man cared anything for him at all. Seth was making him work too damn hard for every scrap of information.
“Last time I saw her.”
“She’s eating?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m out of town.”
Right. He knew that. He’d called Seth’s hotel room in Washington from his own hotel room in Burbank. “You’re home weekends.” Which was more than he’d been.
“I didn’t eat with her last weekend.”
“Seth...”
“Look, man, this is between you and her, okay? And I—” He stopped abruptly.
“...want no part of it,” Michael finished the sentence for his friend. Michael could sympathize. He wanted no part of it, either.
CHAP
TER SIX
SHE’D MISSED HER PERIOD.
“Susan, do you want me to fill out these forms for Ronnie McArthur or send them to his mother?”
This might be the start of the most momentous event of her life, and nobody knew. “Let me see them.” She held out her hand for the forms.
Annie raised her head as Jill approached Susan’s desk. Reaching down instinctively, Susan gave the dog a reassuring pat, perusing the forms at the same time.
“Why don’t we fill in the argument section, then send them on for his mother to finish,” she said, frowning. “They really should come from her.”
Jill took the forms back, but didn’t move from Susan’s desk. “Aren’t you the least bit worried that Ms. Halliday’s going to hear about this?”
Susan was worried, all right. But not about her boss. In moments of excitement, of happiness, she wanted to scream from the top of Cincinnati’s tallest high-rise, tell the whole world her secret. But in moments of despair, which were occurring with far more frequency, she wanted to run so far her body would never find her.
“All I’m doing is a little private charity work,” she told her assistant. “There’s nothing wrong in my arranging for funds through a children’s charity I happen to be involved with. The child needs surgery and his parents can’t afford it.”
Her brows disappearing beneath her fringe of dark bangs, Jill said, “I suppose not.”
