The Elliotts: Secret Affairs. Susan Crosby
the door she saw her grandfather, apparently already on the patio, approach him.
Almost caught, Scarlet darted behind a pillar topped by a plant large enough to hide her.
“I never expected it from you, John,” Patrick said.
“Expected what?”
“Retaliation.”
“It’s business, Patrick. Nothing more.”
Scarlet wished she could see them, analyze their body language. All she could do was listen. Granddad’s voice cut through the darkness, sharp and lethal. John seemed unaffected.
“Gills and Marsh have bought ad space in Charisma since the magazine debuted,” Patrick said. “Crystal Crème soda has been with The Buzz for five years.”
“A lot of my clients have decided to experiment with other forms of advertising, to see what gets them the most bang for their buck. Product placement in movies and on television guarantees a bigger, wider audience, not only in initial viewing but in DVDs and reruns.”
“With the target demographics?”
“We’re choosing each situation carefully.”
The sound of crickets filled a long silence.
“You must be angry with my granddaughter,” Patrick finally said.
“I’m over it.”
“I don’t think you are.”
Scarlet leaned closer, as her grandfather’s voice had gone low and cool.
“What makes you say that?” John asked.
“The way you were watching Scarlet a few minutes ago …. That wasn’t the expression of someone who was ‘over it.’”
“You’re wrong. But even if I hadn’t stopped caring about Summer, I wouldn’t take it out on my clients—or Scarlet. Or you.”
Another silence ensued. John didn’t take the bait. Scarlet was grateful her grandfather hadn’t realized John’s expression was one of lust, not anger.
“Don’t know what got into that girl,” Patrick said at last. “She always had such a good head on her shoulders. Now she’s run off with that … that singer. Left her job.”
Exasperation coated the words. John still said nothing.
“I’m going to keep a close eye on all your accounts, John. Might have to do a little wooing of my own.”
Scarlet smiled at the word and figured John had, too.
“They pay me for sound advice,” John said.
“We’ll see how sound it is.”
“It’s a new day in advertising, Patrick. Time for changes.”
“Maybe.” He took a couple of steps then stopped.
Scarlet had to duck a little.
“I should’ve called you and apologized,” Patrick said. “Thought about it. Just didn’t do it.”
“No need to, but thanks. It was between Summer and me.”
“So it was. Good night.”
“Good night, sir.”
Scarlet eased farther around the pillar so her grandfather wouldn’t see her as he passed by.
“You can come out,” John said after a few seconds. “He’s inside.”
She moseyed over. “That was close.”
“I’m surprised you risked being seen with me in the first place, Scarlet.”
“That wouldn’t be a scandal, just a reason for people to talk a little. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Not particularly.”
“You could’ve asked me to dance, you know.”
He straightened. “You had a partner for every dance. I shouldn’t cut in, should I?”
“Maybe.”
His gaze intensified. “Consider this tonight’s Woo U lesson. Yes or no?”
“Each situation has to be judged individually.”
“I judged. I chose not to.”
“Okay.” Because he was right and there was nothing more to say, she changed the subject, twining her fingers so that she wouldn’t touch him, though she really wanted to. “Was it strictly business, John? What my grandfather asked you about?”
“Yes.”
“You would’ve done the same thing, switched the business, if you and Summer were still engaged?”
He hesitated no longer than a breath, and his gaze never wavered. “Yes.”
She wondered if he’d paused because he had to justify his answer to himself first.
“Wanna blow this joint?” he asked, surprising her.
“More than I can tell you. But impossible, as you know, at least together. I’d better go.” She started to turn.
“Scarlet?”
His husky voice would’ve stopped her, no matter what he said next. “What?”
“I was jealous of every guy you danced with tonight, every guy who touched you and got to be so close to you.”
Desire flooded her body … rushing … pounding … pulsating. His gaze drifted down her. Her nipples drew taut. She wasn’t used to having a man want her so passionately, so … violently. It fascinated her, both that he wanted her that much and that she liked his Neanderthal reaction. She’d never tolerated jealousy before, but the flare of heat low in her body told her his jealousy meant something.
“You don’t think I felt the same?” she asked. “I have to go.” She wouldn’t risk staying any longer with him, having someone see their attraction instead of just acquaintances having a conversation, or whatever defined the parameters of their relationship now in the public eye.
He said nothing. He was good at that.
She didn’t see him return to the dance, and was torn between gratitude and disappointment as Mitch again invited her to dance. She saw her grandparents come onto the floor, as well, as Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” played, Gram’s favorite.
A few seconds later, John tapped Mitch’s shoulder. Mitch looked at Scarlet. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine.” Her heart thundered as John’s arms came around her. Several inches of space separated their bodies.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, pasting on a smile.
“Passing another Woo U course.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Then you don’t know me.”
She didn’t. She loved him, but she didn’t know him. Not really. But everything she learned about him only deepened her feelings.
“Scarlet, there’s no reason we can’t be civilized in the world’s eyes. So, there’ll be a little talk. It’d mostly be about me and that I must still be pining for Summer.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
It was one of the most awkward moments of her life. She glanced at her grandparents. Gram lifted her brows. Granddad kept a carefully blank expression.
And yet through all the awkwardness, all the awareness of eyes focused on them, all the annoyance at being the center of attention when she’d tried so hard to stop doing that, she loved that he’d done it. Loved that he was that self-confident