Minding Amy

"It was a potentially dangerous case. You don't know what's happened to Quentin Edwards. I wouldn't send any novice into that sort of set up alone." He sent a darting glance at his wife. "You wouldn't have wanted her to be alone in what might be a murder or kidnap case, would you, Cynthia?"

"Good grief, no." Her mother starting whisking the eggs more vigorously, shaking her head. Her dad gave a brief smile. He'd won over half the audience.

"I knew you wouldn't want a colleague with you. You agreed to the terms, to have a bodyguard."

"But Sebastian is not a bodyguard."

"Ah, but I asked for a bodyguard." He gave a smug smile.

How could he be so sure of himself?

"Mr. Armitage told me he was the only man available, but he was willing to take the job on. Apparently he likes to get back to grass roots on the odd occasion."

Amy stared at him, her mouth open. "But you knew what he was. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't matter, he was hired for security, and the way I saw it…if he helped you out with your investigations along the way, all well and good." He stood there, pleased as Punch with himself, completely oblivious as to why that was completely unacceptable.

"So, what you're saying, in your defense, is that you wouldn't have minded if I'd got the helping hand of a PI?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because this was supposed to be about me—me and my ability to undertake the job."

"Yes it was, and I gave you the case. I wouldn't have given it to anyone, you know. The normal course of events for a junior would be to go on shadow duty with a more experienced journalist for an agreed period of time." Still he smiled at her, benevolently.

Amy was fuming. Every statement that came out of his mouth made the whole thing worse. He'd duped her, and he thought having Sebastian along might help, which undermined her. Not only that, but it also now appeared he'd done exactly what she had asked him not to—he'd shown favoritism toward his daughter instead of treating her as he would any other hopeful junior. He'd let her sidestep the normal procedures on try-out.

She chastised herself for not having realized earlier. Why hadn't she found out what the normal route for an investigative journalist would be, why had she relied on him to guide her? He'd taken her proposal and forced her to work with it under his terms, his exclusive terms. What would the other journalists think? What did Fiona, who she had to report to, think? Amy cringed, no wonder Fiona had been disapproving. Could it get any worse? Then there was Sebastian, and he must think her a silly idiot. Everyone at work would be thinking what a spoilt and dizzy bimbo she was. In fact, she realized, she was a dizzy bimbo. She really was and she balked at it.

She was about to launch into a tirade of outraged objection, when the doorbell went.

"I'd better get that," her mother announced, putting down the mixing bowl and brushing back a loose strand of hair. "I'm expecting the washing machine repair man." She brushed past Amy, looking at her with a small frown that indicated she wasn't sure who to believe was the injured party.

"Dad, how could you, how could you not have told me all this before now?"

"It didn't interfere with your work did it?"

"Maybe not, but it has now." Voices in the hallway distracted her.

"Well it is unfortunate you found out." He frowned. "By the way, how did you find out?"

"Amy." Her mother emerged back into the kitchen, smiling. "You have a visitor."

A visitor? She turned to look at the door just as Sebastian walked in. She stared at him, disbelief swamping her. He looked as gorgeous as ever, his eyes bright and immediately focused on her as he walked into the room. Dee

p inside, she gave a frustrated sigh. She really liked the guy, they'd been having fun, and yet all the time they had been together…her indignation surged up at the thought of him keeping the real nature of his job secret from her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Amy, where are your manners?" her mother exclaimed, shocked at her remark. "Come in, Mr. Armitage. Can I get you a coffee, there's a pot on."

"Call me Sebastian, please."

Her mother simpered at him, obviously taken in by his good looks and his charm. That made it even worse.

"And I'll say yes please to the coffee. Thank you." He nodded across at her dad in greeting. "Mr. Norton."

Mr. Charm himself. Amy felt her lips tighten.