The Arrangement

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Authors: Suzanne Forster
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down to the foyer.”
    “Julia mentioned on the phone that you wouldn’t recognize the house. She’s totally redone it since you were here last. I forgot to tell you that, sorry. It’s been pretty chaotic.”
    As if by way of apology, he brought her an aperitif glass of something pale pink. She sniffed and then took a sip. Definitely not sherry. It tasted like strawberries.
    “Julia is nervous, too,” he said. “Couldn’t you see that? She wants you here. She never stopped trying to see you after the accident.”
    “Yes, but why? It’s not as if we were close in any normal mother-daughter way. Is she still angry with me? Is she curious? She has plenty of money, so this probably isn’t about the trust that was supposed to have come to me…unless she wants me to promise in writing that I’ll give up my claim.”
    “Would you do that? The money was yours. It was you who decided to walk away from it. You could always change your mind.”
    “And start another war? No, I can’t do that.”
    Did he want her to go after the money? Was that the real reason they were here? She buttoned up the light cardigan she’d slipped on over her capri outfit, but not because she was cold. It was to hide the warmth spreading over her skin. When she was nervous she broke out in hivelike splotches on her chest and face.
    “Let’s talk about something else,” she said.
    He knelt next to her chair. “Alison, your mother almost lost you. She hasn’t seen you in four years. Give her some time.”
    “But she invited us. At least she could be civil.” She touched her face. “Do I look that horrible?”
    “You’re stunning. Maybe she’s jealous.”
    Stunning? She could feel the red heat crawling up her neck. Soon the brilliance would invade her face and make her look like a burn victim. It had been a day of nasty shocks, and this was one more. Since the accident, Andrew hadn’t given her any reason to think he found her attractive, other than an occasional polite reference to her hair or her outfit.
    Now, suddenly, he was dishing out compliments, and her mother, who’d always been so proud of her daughter’s beauty, was acting like she was a leper. It was too much.
    Andrew rose and left her on the chaise, taking off his linen sports coat with the ease of someone who’d always worn fine clothes and took for granted the cachet they lent the wearer. She could still conjure up a mental picture of the first time she’d seen his face. Somehow he’d come into her line of sight, dark and striking in a white sweater that contrasted beautifully with his coloring. Undoubtedly, she’d seen the dark eyes first, framed by the tanned, strong face. But she couldn’t seem to remember exactly where the sighting was. A harbor somewhere, possibly on the bow of the Bladerunner, with a beautiful blonde on his arm.
    The image reminded her that one of her goals while in Mirage Bay was to get a look at his boat, without him or anyone else around.
    “Are you up to unpacking?” he asked. “I can do it if you’d like to lie down for a while.”
    One bed. She shot a glance at the lovely swirls of the white iron bed with yards of sheer veil draped from the canopy frame. It appeared to be at least king-size, but there was just one. That was going to be awkward. Sharing a room was going to be awkward, too, even in this spacious suite.
    “I’ll unpack,” she said, “but maybe I will lie down for a few minutes first.” She sounded formal, stiff. She always sounded that way with him. Why couldn’t she relax? What did she think he was going to do to her? Realistically, what?
    She’d barely completed the thought when he came across the room, drawing something from the pocket of his slacks. “This is for you,” he said, handing her a small, black-velvet jewelry box.
    She opened the lid to the most beautiful earrings she’d ever seen. The pink, emerald-cut diamonds sparkled so brightly they were almost painful to look at. Pale-yellow diamond chips

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