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“It’s not open to discussion.”
“How positively fabulous. I love projects swathed in mystery.”
“This one is and must remain that way. And even my telling you that is off the record. Don’t use it.”
Nadia took a sip of wine, gazing at Maris over the rim of the glass. “You’ve just increased my curiosity about a thousand times over.”
“You’ll have to remain curious.”
“The author—”
“Chooses to remain anonymous. That’s also off the record. Even my staff doesn’t know the writer’s identity, so it will do you no good to try and trick or wheedle information from anyone at Matherly Press.”
“No one knows who he is?”
“I never said it was a he.”
“Right, right, you didn’t. Does that mean it’s a she?”
“It means I’m not telling.”
“Give me something,” Nadia cajoled. “Friend to friend.”
“You’re not my friend.”
Nadia was taken aback by Maris’s tone. Suddenly, with that terse statement, they were no longer talking about the unnamed writer in Georgia.
She kept her smile in place, saying, “That’s true, Maris. We haven’t been. We’ve been too busy with our respective careers to get to know one another and cultivate a friendship, but I’d like to change that. I’d like—”
“We will never be friends, Nadia.”
Again, Nadia was taken off guard by Maris’s candor. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you want to sleep with my husband.”
In spite of herself, Nadia was impressed. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes wasn’t so goody after all. She had more grit than the girls’ school polish suggested. Dropping all pretense, she met Maris’s level gaze. “You can’t wonder why. Noah is an attractive man.”
“An attractive married man.”
“A distinction that has never stopped me.”
“That’s what I hear.”
Rather than being insulted, Nadia laughed. “Good. I love being the topic of scandalous conversation.”
She took another sip of wine, then ran her index finger around the rim of the glass as she continued to study Maris with a new appreciation. She admired directness but never would have believed the former debutante capable of it to this degree.
But she wondered how cool Maris would remain if she confessed to her affair with Noah. What if she gave wifey a blow-by-blow—pun intended—account of what they had done in bed last night? She would bet that for all Maris’s composure, that would rattle her right down to her Manolo Blahniks.
While that would be fun, it wouldn’t be wise. There was too much at stake. Curbing the temptation to flaunt the affair, she asked, “Have you spoken to Noah about this?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
“That his interest in you is strictly business-related. That your column is so influential, he can’t risk offending you. That’s why he goes along with your obvious machinations.”
Nadia shrugged. “There you have it. I’ve established myself by using people as sources of information. In turn, they use me for free publicity and promotion. Noah understands the way it works.”
