When He Was Bad...

Sara sighed. Going on that show would be a mistake. It had to be, didn’t it?

Then again, she had to admit that so far Karen hadn’t steered her wrong. Her creativity in promotion knew no bounds.

Neither did her powers of persuasion.

“I’ll come along, of course,” Karen said. “To give you moral support.”

Sara wavered. She really did want to get her book into the hands of as many women as possible. Maybe this was a way to accomplish that.

“Okay,” Sara said with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank God,” Karen said with relief. “You fell for it.”

“Fell for what?”

“You bought all that ‘it’ll sell books’ stuff. All I really wanted was an excuse to meet Nick Chandler in person.”

Sara smiled. “Why? So you can work toward that fifteen minutes?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you have first crack at him. If you decide you don’t want him, just toss him my way.”

“Come on, Karen. Both of us are smarter than that.”

Karen sighed. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing sometimes that I was a dumb blonde.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. There’s a bar stool at Kelly’s with my name on it.” She zipped her planner, then stood up. “Your appointments are over for the day. Why don’t you come along?”

“Can’t. I need to head home and do a little brainstorming.”

“Brainstorming?”

Sara sighed. “I’m having a hard time coming up with a concept for my next book.”

“Same subject, different take?”

“Yeah. That’s what my editor wants, but I just don’t know where to go with it.”

“A couple of martinis might break that logjam.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Come on, Sara. When’s the last time you and I hit a happy hour together?”

“I’ve been busy. You’ve kept me busy.”

“Hey, I’m all for working hard. But you need your playtime, too. I think you’re the one who needs to get laid.”

“You know I don’t do casual sex.”

“Then make it a formal occasion. Evening gown, tiara, the whole thing. Personally, I wouldn’t want to get that dressed up just to have a man rip it all off, but if it works for you, go for it.”

Sara suppressed a smile. “How did we ever get to be friends, anyway?”

“You know how we got to be friends. We suffered through high school hell together. And speaking of high school hell, how’s your mother these days?”

“We met for lunch a few days ago. It’s been pretty good between us since she moved back here.”

“So she really did leave that creep in St. Louis for good?”

“Looks like it. This is going to be a good holiday, Karen. She’s coming over for dinner next week on Christmas Eve, and then we’re spending Christmas Day together.”

“Good,” Karen said, with a smile that looked a little phony. “That’s good.”

Sara recognized the dubious look on her friend’s face. In the past, it would have been justified. But not anymore. “It’s okay, Karen. It’s been three months. I think my mother has finally seen the light.”

“That’s what you thought with the other guys, too.”

“I know. But this time she sees the pattern of her behavior and wants to do something about it.”

“Hey, you’re the shrink. If you say her brain’s finally unscrambled where men are concerned, I believe you.” She checked her watch. “Oops. Happy hour is starting without me.” She rose from the sofa and headed for the door.

“Thanks for all your help, Karen.”

“Just stick with me, dahling. I’ll make you a star.”

With a couple of theatrical air kisses tossed Sara’s way, Karen swept out of her office and closed the door behind her. Sara glanced back at her computer screen.

Good Lord, what had she just agreed to?

Nick Chandler seemed to be staring right at her, teasing her, taunting her, daring her to walk right into his lair, where he lay in wait to chew her into a thousand tiny pieces.

He was undoubtedly good at ad-libbing. She wasn’t. He knew how to commandeer conversations and steer them in the direction he wanted them to go. She didn’t. He had those eyes that could knock her train of thought right off its track, while she had not a single body part that could hope to distract a man like him.

What she did have, though, was a mission, one she had yet to stray from. She hadn’t gotten this far in life without facing insurmountable odds, and she wasn’t going to stop now. Thirty thousand women would be tuning into his show next Thursday, many of whom were heading down the wrong path. This was her chance to show them the right one.

Nick Chandler wasn’t going to get the better of her. By the time that show was over on Thursday, he was going to know he’d met his match.

2

BY THE TIME Thursday came, Sara’s brain was still holding on to her conviction with the tenacity of a bulldog with a bone. Unfortunately, her stomach wasn’t faring so well. For the past hour, it had been doing funny little flip-flops that were making her a little nauseous. On top of that, the snow predicted for that afternoon had come through with a vengeance, snaring her and Karen in traffic. They were now almost late, so Sara didn’t have time to stop and compose herself, which meant she was pretty much a nervous wreck.

They walked into the lobby of the radio station and told the receptionist who they were. Sara shook the snow off her shoulders, then took her coat off and held it in front of her in a death grip.

“Stop looking so uptight,” Karen said.

Sara squeezed her eyes closed. “I told you I didn’t want to do this.”

“Just don’t let him see you sweat.”

“I used extrastrength antiperspirant this morning. Think that’ll do the trick?”