"Yes, I believe so. Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you both. Good luck with the campaign."
She managed to brush past both the clean-cut politician and his gruesome gorilla friend, and then she sped into the ladies' room.
She was shaking, and she didn't know why. Maybe she was afraid she had pushed too far, and that this time Lee Condor would fire her. Or maybe she was afraid that he was somehow beginning to overwhelm her every time he was near, and that she would be the one to break, and go running to him, begging that he hold her close for just a moment and allow her to believe that there could be a forever-after for her....
She ran a brush through her hair and decided that she was going to have to face the music. When she emerged she saw that Lee had come inside again and been pinned down by a number of autograph seekers.
She slipped past him and started for the terrace, only to findherself hemmed in at the front doors again.
Another group of autograph seekers had surrounded a man she was certain she had never seen before.
Trying to be polite, she wedged her way through the sea of people, only to find herself pressed against the man receiving all the attention, and she didn't even know who he was!
A quick glance at his sport shirt and trim figure told her that he was a golfer. He was about thirty-five, wore his brown hair short and radiated health. Friendly brown eyes fell to hers.
"Uh...great game," Bryn murmured. "Wonderful game..."
"Thanks. For a minute there I didn't think I'd take the championship!"
"Oh, but you did! Congratulations, Mr...."
He laughed pleasantly. "Mike Winfeld."
Winfeld.Winfeld.Yes, he was young, but despite her complete disinterest in sports, she had heard the name. They had said that he would make it to the top, and apparently he had.
He chuckled softly. "Your blush is gorgeous, but don't be embarrassed. You weren't here for the game, were you? You're with Lee Condor."
With Condor?No, not the way he meant it!
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"I'm a photographer. I'm doing publicity shots for him."
"You were taking pictures? Here?Today?"
"Yes, on the other side of the terrace."
"How nice.Hey, if Condor hired you, you must be damned good. Have you got a card?"
"I...uh...yes, I do."
Bryn rummaged around in her purse for her business card. She stuffed it into the golfer's hand,then grimaced as she was jostled into him. "Thanks for asking. Give me a call anytime. I'm going to slip by before your fans decide to hang me!"
"Bryn Keller," he murmured, smiling and waving as she moved through the crowd. "You'll be hearing from me!"
She waved in return.
Maybe some real good would come from this, she thought as she hurried out to join the others on the terrace.
Barbara looked up from her fan-back wicker chair beside the wrought-iron table. "Bryn, that's your glass of wine there. I went ahead and ordered you a crab cocktail and the spinach salad." Barbara lifted her hands with a shrug. "You were gone so long..."
"Sounds great, Barbara," Bryn murmured nervously, taking the empty seat beside Barbara. The only other empty seat had been the next one. No matter which she had chosen,she would still have been forced to sit beside Lee. She picked up her wineglass and began to sip. It was good. Dry, but smooth.
Perry was telling Barbara about the castle where they had filmed inScotland. His story was bright and amusing, but Bryn found her mind wandering. Glancing through the French doors to the main room of the club, she saw that Lee had now been halted by the politician. The two men spoke for a few minutes; then they were joined by the championship golfer. A meeting of the fabulously famous and rich, Bryn thought somewhat bitterly. Then she pretended to busy herself with her wineglass, because Lee was at last coming through the doors and heading for the table. She sensed his growing irritation as his chair scraped against the concrete when he pulled it out to take his seat.
She felt his eyes openly on her and was compelled to turn in his direction as he took a sip of wine, watching her over the rim of the glass.
"What?" she demanded in an impatient murmur. The others were still talking, not noticing them--she hoped.
"Nothing, Miss Keller, nothing at all."
"Then would you quit looking at me like that?" she whispered.
"Like what?"
"Like..."
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"Like you're playing stupid games? Dirk Hammarfield is married, you know. And I know that even a
'perfectionist' doesn't need to take that many rolls of film to come up with a good shot."
"First of all," Bryn replied in a heated whisper, glad that he hadn't seen her with the personable golfer, as well, "if Dirk Hammarfield is married, that's just wonderful. Secondly, all I was trying to do was make sure that you would be pleased--"
"Like hell!" he interrupted impatiently.