‘Too?’ she echoed sharply.
‘As well as talk to strange men at parties,’ he mocked.
‘As I remember it, that strange man spoke to me first!’
‘Touché,’ he chuckled. ‘How about dinner on Monday?’
‘I—’
‘Tuesday?’
I—’
‘Wednesday?’
‘I was about to say Monday would be fine,’ she put in quickly before he got to Thursday, deciding that Monday didn’t seem too eager. ‘Although your calendar seems to be very empty for such a—’ she broke off as she realised what she had been about to say. Logan Carrington needed no extra boosts to his ego from her!
‘Such a…?’ he prompted softly.
‘Such a con
ceited man,’ she snapped.
He chuckled. ‘Tell me your address, Callie, and I’ll let you get to bed.’
She told him, wondering if he rushed all his women like this. She was beginning to feel decidedly overwhelmed. So much for him forgetting all about her!
Marilyn and Bill spent the day at Bill’s mother’s the next day, so Callie didn’t get chance to discuss Logan Carrington with her friend. She didn’t quite know how to explain him to herself, she just knew she had been instantly attracted. And after Donald’s inane conversation for a month it would be nice to talk to someone who obviously read as much as she did, a man of high intelligence who amused and challenged her at the same time.
In some ways he reminded her of Jeff, and yet she knew it was a mistake to compare the two men. Jeff had been very special in her life, a man with a quick intelligence and biting wit, a man who would always have a special place in her heart.
* * *
She was late home on Monday night because she went to the shops after work to get herself a new dress for her dinner-date, suddenly deciding she didn’t have anything to wear. Her hair had been newly trimmed and washed at lunchtime, although she wasn’t sure why she was going to so much trouble for Logan Carrington. Maybe it was because of the impeccable appearance of the beautiful Danielle. Whatever the reason, the new black dress gave her a mature sophistication.
But she forgot all about the new dress when she got back to the flat, forgot about everything but Marilyn’s ashen face and Bill’s stricken one.
Bill came to the door as soon as he heard her put her key in the lock. ‘Could you come and talk to Marilyn?’ he requested agitatedly. ‘I have a couple of calls to make, and I’d rather she didn’t hear them. Just in case…’
Callie was at once concerned. ‘What’s happened? Paul…?’ she choked.
‘He’s fine,’ Bill reassured her. ‘But Marilyn’s father has had a stroke. It’s touch and go whether he’ll make it.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Afraid so,’ he sighed. ‘Her mother called a few minutes ago, but she was pretty incoherent. I want to call the hospital myself, maybe talk to the doctor.’
‘Of course.’ Callie left the box containing her new dress uncaringly inside her flat, and followed Bill. ‘Oh, Marilyn!’ She pulled the other girl into her arms, holding her comfortingly as she began to cry.
‘At least that’s an improvement,’ said Bill with obvious relief. ‘She’s just been sitting there since her mother called.’
‘Shock,’ Callie nodded.
‘I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me,’ he told her pointedly.
‘Oh, Callie, Callie!’ Marilyn sobbed. ‘He’s only fifty-three, that isn’t old.’
‘He isn’t going to die,’ Callie soothed. ‘Lots of people recover from strokes.’