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The early December snow had quickly changed from fat, white flakes to a cold, driving rain that had slicked the streets with ice, and every taxi cab in Manhattan had done its usual vanishing act.

By the time she’d finally caught a bus, she was wet, chilled and irritable. Only dreams of a hot bath and a hotter cup of tea had got her through the final slippery walk from the bus stop to her apartment.

‘Shannon? Good grief, sweetie, hurry up, will you? I am positively freezing my behind off out here!’

Hand on the banister, Shannon paused on the fourth floor landing and stared upward. Her agent stood on the landing above her, wrapped in a fur coat, looking like a large, unkempt animal.

What are you doing here, Claire?’ she asked wearily.

‘Waiting for you, obviously. Doesn’t this palace get any heat?’

‘It died this morning…’ Shannon unlocked her apartment door and tossed her handbag on a chair. . ‘The first really cold day and the pipes commit suicide.’ She shrugged free of her coat and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. ‘Take that thing off, Claire. You look like a wet teddy bear.’

Claire’s eyebrows rose dramatically. ‘My, but we’re in a good mood, aren’t we?’

‘1 am cold and wet and tired unto death of Alana Dunbar and Jerry Crawford and Rima the Prima. Do you want some tea?’

‘Only if you promise not to put poison in it,’ Claire said mildly, shaking out her wet fake fur and draping it across a chair.

‘Sorry. I’ve been on the go since early morning.’

The agent ran her fingers through her damp hair.

‘Busy, busy, busy,’ she said. ‘That’s why I decided to wait for you here. I figured I wouldn’t give you another chance to put me off.’

‘I haven’t. I simply said...’

‘I know precisely what you said, Shannon. You said you were busy today and pressed for time yesterday and running late the day before and on your way to a class with Eli the day before that...’

‘It’s been that kind of week, okay’

‘I decided you’d been avoiding me long enough.’

‘Look, I haven’t been avoiding you. I...’ Shannon took a deep breath and turned to face her agent. ‘Let’s not argue about it, Claire. Why don’t you tell me what’s so important that you braved five flights of stairs just to see me? Do you want milk or lemon for your tea?’

‘Lemon, sweetie. I’m on a diet. Although I wouldn’t mind a cookie or two. Thanks. Would you mind sitting down, please? I hate talking to somebody’s back.’

Shannon sighed and slipped into a chair, ‘Claire, it’s been a long day. Rima was impossible—she had a scene with Cade that had to be finished before he left and she must have blown her lines a billion times. And Jerry snapped at everybody.’

‘Our hero left the set early again?’

‘What does that mean?’ Shannon asked carefully.

Claire shrugged. ‘It’s just a question. It seems as if the man’s been away from the studio more than in it lately.’

‘ Tomorrows has been getting a lot of coverage, that’s all.’

The agent smiled. ‘Morgan has, you mean. So what was it today?’

‘He had a shoot with People. They’re doing a lead story on him next week.’

‘Wonderful,’ Claire said pleasantly. ‘Let’s see, that’ll make two, no, three, covers he’ll be on all at once. I bet that’s some kind of record. TV Guide and Vanity Fair and now People. ’

‘I’d think you’d be pleased. It’s great publicity for Tomorrows.’

‘It’s good publicity for Tomorrows. It’s great pub­licity for Cade Morgan.’

‘So?’



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