Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

She shook her head. "And I don't plan to." She glanced down. "It's over" she told her best friend.

"Because?"

"Baby or no baby, Damian lives a lifestyle that has no room for commitment. And I want that." She blew her nose into a tissue. “I want someone who can balance a career and a family"

John leaned forward in his seat. "And you think Damian doesn't want that? With all the changes in his life at the moment, I'd think some stability would be nice right now."

She shook her head. "He's overwhelmed with the paternity thing. If it's his, he's going to have his hands full adding a baby to his list of responsibilities, which he admits he has trouble prioritizing."

"And if it isn't his kid?"

Micki let out a laugh. "Come on. You know him pretty well. He'll be so damn relieved he's off the hook, he's going to return to focusing on what's left of his career. He's certainly not going to do a one-eighty and want a serious commitment when he's just escaped one."

"Says you."

"Says logic, common sense, and I'd bet Damian if you asked him," Micki argued. She'd thought these issues through long and hard. Her conclusions hurt, but they made perfect sense.

"If I asked him he'd say he couldn't have gotten through any of this without your support. The man needed you."

Micki cringed at her friend's words.

"What? What'd I say?" Roper asked, obviously reading her expression.

She stretched her legs out in front of her. Her body ached and she wondered if maybe she had the flu. "You nailed the other thing I've been thinking about. My whole life, I've always been taken care of. First by my parents, then by Annabelle and Uncle Yank. I've always needed other people. For the first time, someone needed me. Once Damian has his answer, once he knows whose baby it is, he's not going to need me anymore."

"All your clients need your expert advice and spin on a situation. You must know it's true, otherwise you wouldn't be as successful as you are." He ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, a sure sign Micki was confusing him.

"It's not the same thing as with the people who hire me." Something special existed between Micki and Damian, something that transcended a client-publicist relationship.

Someone she cared about had relied on her for a change. Losing him saddened her because she'd grown used to the way he'd come to need her and she liked knowing he looked to her as someone important in his life, someone he could trust with his deepest secrets. She'd spent a lot of time lately trying to come to terms with the fact that that part of her life was over.

Roper let out an exasperated sound. "Well if it makes you feel any better, I still need you," he said, treating her to his endearing grin.

The man obviously still didn't get it, which was just as well. She didn't need him psychoanalyzing her at the moment. She sneezed.

"Bless you." Roper stood. "I really should get going before I catch whatever it is you've got. I don't want to miss the autism benefit at the Pierre tomorrow night. Are you going to be up to it?"

She nodded. "After all the work Sophie and I put into it to pull it off, you'd better believe I’ll be there. The Renegades will get some extremely positive press from this."

"And we're playing so well, ticket sales are up anyway. It's all good," Roper said. "But you need to rest up."

"After my soup gets here, I could use a nap," she admitted.

"Feel better," he said as she walked him to the door.

"Thanks."

"And cut Damian some slack. The guy's been through hell but it doesn't mean things are over between the two of you."

Micki ignored him. She'd already said goodbye to Damian in the place it counted most. Her heart.

THE BALLROOM in the Pierre hotel sparkled as much as the celebrities who were attending the benefit in their designer gowns and jewels. Considering the money laid out per plate for this event, everybody had pulled out their finest formal wear. Even Micki had purchased a new gown.

The light pink chiffon complimented her skin tone, or so the lady at Saks Fifth Avenue had told her. Unfortunately, she had no place in the strapless gown to hide tissues and so she'd loaded up on Benadryl in an effort to dry herself out. She couldn't speak without sounding like a frog and her head felt like it was about to explode.

A trip to the doctor this afternoon had resulted in the diagnosis of a sinus infection and so she was on antibiotics as well, but she still wasn't about to miss this big event.

After checking on a few things, Micki headed for the bar and asked for a glass of ice water.