“I’m not sure I want to.”
“If you ask me, you never really got over him.” Alan set his notes on the table and walked to the front of the cameras to the grouping of couches and chairs that created a cozy living room on the set of West Coast Morning. Hands deep in his pockets, he leaned a shoulder against the fake mantel on the brick fireplace.
“Zane has nothing to do with this.”
“You always were a poor liar. And, unless I miss my guess, Zane has everything to do with it! Remember—I know you. I’ve known you as long as he has. I saw the hell you went through during your divorce.”
“Let’s not dredge all that up again—”
He ignored her. “The way I see it, you never were divorced from him—not emotionally. Oh, I know you went through all the legal hoops and you haven’t seen him for a while. But it’s glaringly obvious to anyone who knows you that you’re still in love with him.” He tugged on his tie and flicked open his collar button. She wanted to argue with him, but before she could say another word, Alan went on, “If Zane whistled, you’d go running. You might have wanted out of your marriage a few years ago, but that’s changed.”
“And how would you know?” she wondered aloud.
“Because I’ve worked with you, Kaylie—seen you grow. Don’t forget, I was at the premiere of Obsession. I remember what happened when you were attacked, how Zane reacted. Can’t say as I blame him, either. He was scared spitless—and he should have been. Johnston was a maniac.”
Kaylie crossed the set and took a seat in one of the rose-colored chairs that she’d sat in for hundreds of tapings. So it was that obvious, was it? Even Alan, self-centered as he was, knew how she felt.
“You know, Flannery was just trying to keep you safe,” Alan said, then muttered something under his breath and kicked at one of the ottomans on the set. “I don’t know why I’m defending the guy—I don’t even like him. But he was right in worrying about Johnston attacking you again.”
Kaylie’s head snapped up. “What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously, nervous fear burrowing deep in her heart. “Is Lee Johnston going to be released soon?”
Alan, not really interested, lifted a shoulder. “If he is, it’s a well-kept secret. But he’ll be out someday.”
With that chilling prediction, he glanced at his watch and shot to his feet. “Got to run,” he explained, reaching for his briefcase and athletic bag he’d tucked near the island. “Got a tennis game with my agent. See ya later.” With a wave, he was down the hall and out the door.
* * *
Kaylie spent the next couple of hours at the station, checking her messages, but there was no pink slip asking her to return a call to “Ted.” She answered her mail, returned her calls and reviewed the shows she’d missed, talked with Jim and Tracy and got ready for the next morning.
Eventually Kaylie left the station in a car she’d rented for the week—until she could drive to Carmel and pick up her Audi. She had one last errand to run. One very important errand.
She drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, barely noticing that the steel-colored clouds were moving inland and that the sun was once again sprinkling the bay with golden light.
Driving by instinct, she was unaware of the traffic or the change in scenery as the highway was flanked by vineyards. In Sonoma, she guided the rented Mustang up a steep hillside and parked in her sister’s driveway. She turned off the engine and listened to the radio as she waited for Margot to get home from work. The interior of the car was warm, so she cranked open the sunroof. At five-thirty, the garage door opened, and Margot’s sporty little Toyota wheeled into the garage.
As Kaylie climbed out of her Mustang, Margot shoved open the door of her car and fairly ran down the drive to Kaylie’s car. “Kaylie! You’re back!” she cried, crossing the asphalt and throwing her arms around her younger sister. Margot’s shining coppery-gold hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her sky-blue eyes danced. “So tell me all about your adventure with Zane!”
Kaylie rolled her eyes. “Adventure? Is that what you think it was? He literally kidnapped me and held me hostage for days—”
“Umm—sounds divine.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Is it?” Margot’s eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait to hear what happened and I want details, Kaylie. Very explicit details.”
“You’re an incurable romantic,” Kaylie said, laughing nonetheless. Some of Margot’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I came over here to do you bodily harm, you know.”
“Why?”
Kaylie was speechless for a moment. “You know why! Because you were in on it with him.”
“And proud of it,” Margot teased. “And don’t give me this offended victim routine. It doesn’t wash. You’re crazy about Zane. Always have been, always will be. I don’t know why you just don’t admit it and make things easier on everyone. Now, come on, help me carry these groceries into the house and we’ll have a glass of wine to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“That you’re back in the city. Or back with Zane. Whichever you choose.” She glanced over her shoulder, and a dimple creased her cheek.
“I’m not involved with Zane.”