with me after?"
"I'm already coming to the show."
"Okay, who do I have to kill?" He held the guitar in one hand, and her
fingers in the other. His demin shirt was nearly unbuttoned and
revealed pale, smooth skin. In one lithe move he was standing beside
her. "You're not going to walk away from me on the eye of my big break,
are you? I need moral support."
"You'll do fine."
He tightened his grip when she started to draw away. "My God, no matter
how trite it sounds, it's the truth. You're the most beautiful woman
I've ever seen."
Flattered and flustered, she tugged on her hand. "You need to get out
more."
His smile was slow, devastating. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"
She tugged again, torn between panic and laughter. She could hear
voices and movement from the stage where the musicians were wandering
back. "I really have to get back."
"At least tell me your name." He ran a thumb over her knuckles until her
knees turned to water. "A man's entitled to know who broke his heart."
"I'm Emma. Emma McAvoy."
"Oh Christ." He winced as he dropped her hand. "I'm sorry, I had no
idea. Jesus, I feel like a complete jerk."
"Why?"
After dragging his fingers through his hair, he let them fall. "Brian
McAvoy's daughter, and here I am making a fumbling pass."
"I didn't think it was fumbling," she murmured, then cleared her throat
when his eyes met hers again. "I do have to get back. It was ...
nice meeting you."
"Emma." He paused, enjoying the way she hesitated and turned back.
"Maybe sometime over the next ten weeks, you can find time for that
candy bar."
"All right." She let out a long breath as she walked back to the stage.
He sent her a Milky Way tied with a pink ribbon, and her first love
letter. Emma stood in the doorway long after the messenger had left,
staring down at the note.
Emma,
I'll do better when we get to Paris. But for now, this is just a
reminder of our first meeting. When I play "In Your Dreams"
tonight, I'll be thinking of you.
Drew
She looked down at the candy bar. If it had been a basket of diamonds,
she would have been no more enchanted. With no one to see her, she spun
a trio of pirouettes in the wide foyer, then, on impulse, grabbed her
jacket and raced from the house.
Alice answered the door again, but this time she didn't cry. Her lips
curved, just slightly, as she looked at Emma. "You came back."
"Yes. Hello, Alice." She could hardly keep her feet from dancing. She
leaned over and surprised her old nanny by kissing her cheek. "I came
back. I was hoping to see Bev. Is she home?"
"She's upstairs, in the office she keeps here. I'll tell her."