Public Secrets Part 139

here."

"Come on." He led her down the hall, down the stairs where she had

tumbled that night years before. He sent a quick, apologetic glance to

Gloria Steinbrenner as she hurried in from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, my

wife's not feeling well."

"Oh." Annoyance and disappointment came first. Then hope. "Make sure

she gets some rest. As you can see, this house was just made for

children. You wouldn't want to raise a baby in the Valley."

"No." He didn't bother to correct her, and steered Emma out. "We'll be

in touch," he called, and took the driver's seat himself If he hadn't

been concerned with Emma's pale face, and the prospect of driving a

thirty-thousand-dollar car, he would have noticed the dark blue sedan

that trailed after them.

"I'm sorry," she murmured after they started down the winding roads.

"Don't be stupid."

"No, I am. I didn't handle that well."

"You did fine." He reached over to give her hand an awkward pat. "Look,

I've never lost anybody close to me, but you only have to be human to

imagine what it would be like. Don't beat yourself up, Emma."

"Put it behind me?" She drummed up a weak smile. "I hope I can. I

thought if I could stand there, right there, and think about what had

happened, it would all come back to me. Since it didn't ..." She

shrugged, then pushed her sungla.s.ses back on. "You've been a good

friend."

"That's me," he muttered. "Always a pal. Hungry?"

She started to shake her head, then stopped. "Yes," she realized. "I'm

starved."

"I can spring for a burger. I think," he added, struggling to remember

just what was in his wallet.

"I'd love a burger. And since you've been a pal, my treat."

He pulled into a McDonald's, and since he discovered the contents of his

wallet included three singles and the phone number of a redhead he

barely remembered, he put aside what he told himself was dumb macho

pride. Emma didn't argue with his suggestion that they

make it to go, or with his casual a.s.sumption that he would continue in

the driver's seat.

"Thought we'd take it to the beach."

"I'd like that." She shut her eyes again and leaned back. She was glad

she'd come. Glad she had climbed those stairs. Glad she was here, with

the warm wind in her hair and Michael beside her. "It was sleeting in

New York when I left."

"There are colleges in sunny California, too."

She smiled, enjoying the breeze on her face. "I like New York," she

said absently. "I always have. My roommate and I bought a loft. It's

nearly livable now."

"Roommate?"

"Yes. Marianne and I went to Saint Catherine's together." Since her

eyes were still closed, she didn't notice his look of pleased relief.

"We always swore we'd live in New York one day. Now we do. She's

taking art cla.s.ses."