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  “And?”

  She was afraid she knew what was coming. Out of the corner of her eye Amanda saw Carla walking into the room, drawn by the sound of Paul’s voice. The woman’s wide smile dissolved when she saw Paul’s annoyed expression.

  “And someone told him that I was the one who copied the Q status reports and gave them to you.” Paul shrugged as if the incident was too insignificant to bother with. As if what had happened didn’t bother him. “He fired me.”

  Guilt slammed into her. “Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry.”

  Carla ran up to him, concern mirrored in her wide brown eyes. Paul slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, grateful for Carla’s support. He looked at Amanda and saw her guilt.

  “It’s no big deal, Amanda. I’ll find another job.” A wide grin slashed his dark face. “Hey, lady, haven’t you heard? I’m good.”

  “I know that. That’s not the point.” Anger nudged aside her remorse. “He shouldn’t have fired you. He did it to get back at me. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Miserable bastard! For two cents, she’d shoot Grimsley and face the consequences. He had no right to take things out on her friends.

  Paul was already bouncing back from the blow, though his pride had been stung at first. “He shouldn’t have fired you, Amanda, but he did.”

  Amanda knew that it would be an empty promise to say that she’d get his job back for him when she won the case. She wasn’t entirely certain that she would win. Being in the right wouldn’t automatically make her a winner. And the stakes had escalated. Amanda was demanding a public apology from Grimsley and a restraining order against any further harassment. That might take some time and some doing to accomplish.

  But she had to deal with the immediate problem first, not with what might be. Amanda looked at Paul. “What are you going to do?”

  His expression was mild as he considered the question. “I’ve got some money saved up. And I’ve always wanted a shot at Channel Seven.” His voice took on enthusiasm. “They’ve got this guy in the editing room that’s an absolute wizard. I could learn a lot from him.” He grinned at Carla. “I heard from Manuel that they’re hiring.”

  At least it was something to go on, Amanda thought with relief. “Pierce can write you a recommendation. God knows mine wouldn’t get you very far right now.”

  It was his turn to comfort her. Paul laid a hand on her shoulder. “It will when you win.”

  “Yeah, when I win.”

  Pierce or no Pierce, she had to go through with the lawsuit now. She had no choice anymore. She was in too deep. It wasn’t just her problem any longer. Paul had lost his job helping her. She owed it to him to win.

  Carla linked her arm through Paul’s and took him into the kitchen. Their heads were together and they were talking in whispers.

  Amanda sighed. At least he was taking it well. If there were any ruffled feathers, Carla would see to smoothing them out. And Amanda would ask Pierce to give Paul that recommendation as soon as she saw him.

  While they were still speaking to each other.

  After this went to court, she didn’t know if he’d ever want to talk to her again. And part of her couldn’t completely blame him. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She couldn’t back out now.

  Amanda sank down on the floor again next to Christopher and mechanically began rebuilding the city he’d just toppled. Christopher began talking to her, but her responses didn’t go beyond “Uh-huh” and “Yes.”

  Her mind was elsewhere.

  She felt like Gary Cooper, pinning on a star after having initially tossed it on the sheriffs desk. High Noon was coming, whether she wanted it or not. And try as she might, she couldn’t see Pierce taking on the Grace Kelly role.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  He couldn’t walk away from her.

  It bothered the hell out of Pierce that he couldn’t just forget about Amanda. He told himself that it was all just a delusion. Of course he could walk away from her. He had always been able to walk away from a woman. Any woman. There was no reason in the world why he couldn’t walk away from Amanda, too.

  After all, one woman was pretty much like another, and if he looked forward to seeing Amanda, to touching her, if his nights were filled with dreams of her and his days with yearning for her until he was with her, well, that would fade eventually.

  He’d walk away from her and there’d always be another woman there for him. Or not, as he chose. That was the key word: chose.

  No question about it. He would walk away from her. Maybe not as easily as from the others, but that was because she wasn’t really like the others. She didn’t ask anything of him.

  Just his freedom, he thought cynically, although she had never said anything to that effect, never made plans. Never even referred to them as “us.”

  Still, he’d have to go. And he could do it. Tomorrow. But not today. He couldn’t leave her now.

  Now she was in the midst of an emotional upheaval and it wouldn’t be right to just go.

  So he found himself, like a fool, standing on her doorstep. A fool walking into a quagmire that had a sign posted in front of it clearly labeled Quicksand.

  But he could still leave, he argued. Anytime.

  ‘”Eese!” Christopher called as his mother opened the door. He quickly grabbed Pierce’s hand and pulled him into the house.

  Pierce walked in like a man who didn’t even have a nodding acquaintance with tension. Like a man who hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes arguing with himself in the car. His smile was easy, lazy. It masked a great deal.

  “Hi, kid.” Pierce glanced into the living room. It was in its perpetual state of chaos. “Up to no good as usual, I see.”

  Pierce turned to Amanda. He’d called and told her they were going out to dinner. She was wearing a dark blue sheath that simultaneously accentuated her eyes and her curves.

  “You look good enough to eat.” His eyes had a certain glint to them that she’d come to look forward to. It made her feel decidedly feminine and sexy. Before him, it had been a long time since she’d felt like a woman.

  Amanda picked up her clutch purse from the table and tucked it under her arm. “If you’re that hungry we’d better be going.” She bent down to kiss Christopher. As she did, she saw Carla approaching them from the kitchen. “We’ll be gone a few hours, Carla.”

  Carla took Christopher’s hand to keep him from scooting out the door along with Pierce and Amanda. The little boy tugged hard, trying to pull her along.

  “Go!” he demanded.

  Pierce shook his head. “No go. Maybe next time.” He tousled the curly hair.

  Carla began to close the door. “Paul’s coming over to keep me company later,” she told Amanda. Her brown eyes glowed when she mentioned Paul’s name. It wasn’t hard to see that Carla was in love.

  “Make sure you don’t get too distracted to keep an eye on Christopher,” Amanda warned before walking out.

  The rumors of a job opening at Channel 7 had been just that, rumors. And Paul, after two weeks, was still very much unemployed. Amanda felt horrible about the whole thing. If it hadn’t been for her, he would still be working.

  Pierce opened the passenger door for her. “Paul’s been coming around a lot now that he’s not working,” Amanda told him, getting in. The restaurant he was taking her to wasn’t far, but it felt good to be getting out. “I think they’re getting serious.”

  Without mentioning it to anyone, Pierce had attempted to negotiate with Grimsley to allow Paul to return to work. Grimsley had said, “No dice.” The failure frustrated Pierce. As did a lot of things.

  He shrugged in reply to her statement. “Man can’t afford to pass up a meal ticket.”

  How could he be so harsh? He knew Paul. Paul wasn’t the type to use people for his own gain.

  “It’s not that,” she insisted. “He cares for her.”

  Pierce was having trouble dealing with his own emotions. He wasn’t in a position
to judge anyone else’s. “Sure, why not?”

  Amanda felt her temper fraying. Maybe she’d been cooped up too long. But just when she was beginning to give Pierce points for being a warm person, he had to shut down on her.

  “Damn it, Alexander, why do you always insist on reducing everything to such cold, pragmatic terms?”

  Traffic was light. He tried not to think about the fact that just her sitting here, so close to him, was arousing him. Damn, he didn’t like being a prisoner like this.

  “Because the world’s a cold, pragmatic place, Mandy. You ought to know that.”

  No, she didn’t have to know anything of the kind. “But we can still make our piece of it better,” she told him stubbornly.

  He glanced at her as they went through a yellow light. How was it that she’d somehow remained uncontaminated by everything around her? It drew him to her, and he struggled to get free.

  “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  She didn’t like the cynicism she detected in his voice. “I don’t think I could stand it if I didn’t.”

  Why was her vulnerability pulling him in like a fish on the line? He tried hard to distance himself. “Maybe we should change your name to Pollyanna.”

  Amanda stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the hurt. “Maybe.”

  “So, what are you going to do if the case doesn’t go your way,” Pierce asked as he toyed with his after-dinner drink, “and you lose?”

  All through dinner, it had been as if they were suddenly two opponents circling one another, sizing each other up. She had no idea what had brought this on. What was wrong tonight?

  Stone’s warning suddenly rang in her head. He’d said not to see Pierce because he could potentially use things she said against her. She looked at Pierce suspiciously.

  Pierce took a sip and then set his glass down. He could feel her eyes. She was staring at him uncertainly, as if he were a dangerous wild animal.

  His eyes held hers. “What?”

  “Why do you want to know?” she asked slowly. Was he trying to play with her mind? To psychologically undermine her so that she would walk away from the entire mess?

  Lately, he’d been visualizing her on the stand. Visualizing her having to defend herself. If Grimsley’s lawyer was worth his retainer, there would be all sorts of sexual allegations flying through the air. He didn’t want her subjected to that. But he didn’t want to say it. She would probably construe it as a self-serving attempt to discourage her from going through with the lawsuit.

  He shrugged. “Curious, that’s all.”

  Amanda looked down at her drink. She hadn’t touched it. She’d barely touched her dinner. Amanda had felt the tension humming between them and hadn’t felt much like eating under such conditions.

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Don’t you think you should? There is a chance you might lose, you know. Maybe the case isn’t worth going on with.”

  He hadn’t meant to say that. The words had just come out. He regretted them as soon as he saw the wariness in her eyes. Her expression was tinged with disappointment. But it was too late to say anything.

  “I’m well aware that I might lose.” Amanda suddenly felt very cold. “Is that what you’re hoping for?”

  His expression grew hard. “I don’t think I have to answer that.”

  Maybe she was getting a little paranoid. But she was trying to inch her way across a tightrope and she had no idea if she was heading toward the platform, or just more rope.

  She’d started to apologize when someone called out her name.

  “Hey, Amanda, look this way!”

  She turned and a flash went off, blinding her. She could barely distinguish a man in a violet shirt with slicked-back hair pointing a camera with a telephoto lens at her. “Thanks! Now once more. Can you smile this time?”

  Pierce nearly overturned the table as he made a grab for the man. His hair-trigger reflexes surprised the would-be photographer.

  Pierce grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against a wall. “Get out of here.”

  Panic washed over the shallow face. Pierce was a good fifty pounds heavier than he was and at least ten years younger.

  “Hey, don’t get your back up. A guy’s gotta make a living, you know?” He tried desperately to drum up a feeling of camaraderie. “Looks like you’re resolving the ‘battle of the anchorpersons’ in your own way.” He winked lasciviously at Pierce. “Way to go, Alexander.”

  Pierce held him under his neck by his shirt so tightly, the man’s color drained from his face. “Look, bastard, if you don’t get your camera and your slimy self out of here fast, you’re going to have to learn a whole new way to walk.”

  People had gathered around them. Amanda felt a knot forming in her stomach.

  “Take it easy,” the photographer pleaded. “Don’t blow your cool. Just ‘cause you’ve got what you want doesn’t mean you can’t give a guy a break. I get paid by the picture.”

  “You want a break?” Pierce released him. Then he took hold of the camera, popped it open, and pulled out the memory card and snapped it between his fingers. “There, there’s your break. I didn’t smash your camera or you. Count yourself lucky.”

  Grumbling, the man hurried away before Pierce changed his mind.

  Amanda was on her feet, nausea clawing at her. Everyone was looking at them. The waitress stood a few feet away, her eyes wide.

  “I guess this means dinner’s officially over,” Pierce said, taking out his wallet and signaling the waitress. “Check, please.”

  Unable to endure the stares, the humiliation, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal any longer, Amanda ran from the table and out of the restaurant.

  “Damn!” Pierce threw down a couple of bills, figuring that should cover the meager meal they’d had. He hurried after her. “Amanda, wait.”

  Amanda heard him, but she didn’t turn around. She had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to get away. Away from everything.

  Pierce caught up to her in the middle of the parking lot. He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her around. Why was she running away from him? He’d just sent that bastard on his way.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  Amanda swung around, her eyes blazing. “How did he know we were here?”

  Her question stunned him. “I don’t know. Maybe the waitress recognized us, or you. Maybe it was someone at one of the tables and they called in a tip. The guy was obviously from the paparazzi. Those rags pay for tips. Your face is plastered all over those tabloids and the news. How the hell should I know how he got here?”

  And then what she was really saying dawned on him.

  Fury at her lack of trust lashed at him. He grabbed her shoulders. “You think I called him?”

  What else could she think? “You knew where we were going. He was here as if right on cue. And you obviously have nothing against stalking—you stalked me yourself, in the beginning.”

  In disgust, he released her. Afraid of what he might be capable of, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

  Amanda exhaled a ragged breath as she dragged her hand through her hair. She’d never been so miserable, so confused before. She wanted to believe him. Yet he kept backing away, changing on her. She didn’t know who he was anymore, and she was beginning to wonder who she was.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  He blew out a breath, and for the first time in over a month, longed for a cigarette. And a drink. A real drink, not one of those watered-down cocktails they served in restaurants like this. A mind-numbing, gut-burning real drink. Maybe, just maybe, it could burn away this taste in his mouth.

  And blot her from his mind.

  “No, apparently not.” He nodded toward his car. “Get in the car,” he ordered gruffly. “I’ll take you home.”

  She walked to the car ahead of him. When she got in, she waited until he was seated before she spoke. She hated this turmoil, hated
not understanding what was happening between them. Why each time they got close, something went wrong.

  “Pierce, I. ..” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Yeah.” He ground out the word as he pulled out of his spot. “Me, too.”

  They drove home in silence. Pierce let Amanda out at her door while remaining in the car. His anger was so great right now, he knew he couldn’t trust himself to talk to her. He had to get away.

  He peeled out of her driveway, leaving her standing there, watching him.

  He never looked back.

  It wasn’t the anger at her accusation so much as the hurt that bothered him. He didn’t understand the hurt. Her lack of trust tore at him. Maybe she didn’t have that much to go on, but she should have known that he wouldn’t betray her.

  Instinctively, she should have known.

  Then again, why?

  They were all the same. They all let you down in the end. He knew that. He’d learned that as a kid. What was the big surprise?

  Pierce swore at Amanda and at himself all the way home. It didn’t help one goddamn bit.

  He was still in love with her.

  Chapter Forty

  Amanda angrily switched off the news. Pierce’s face, with its own odd mixture of raw sensuality and sincerity, quickly dissolved into nothingness.

  Swearing, Amanda wrestled with the tears that were welling up in her eyes, threatening to overflow.

  Idiot!

  That’s what she was, a hopeless idiot. Why hadn’t she learned with Jeff? How many times did she need to be beaten over the head with a two-by-four before it sank in? If the marines were eternally looking for a few good men, why did she continue to believe that she had an inside track on one?

  She turned from the television set and ran her hands over her arms. Her skin felt oddly cold, from the inside out. Restless, she began to pace.

  She could cover the den from end to end in a few measured steps. But she didn’t want to take the tension she was feeling out of this room, where Carla and Christopher would see her. More than anything, she didn’t want them to see her crying, and right now she couldn’t seem to stop herself.