Amanda eyed the little container with the black liquid. "Sounds ... trendy."
"Who cares, as long as it tastes good."
If he hadn't been watching her so avidly, she might have picked out the few tortilla chips and eaten those before they got soggy. Reluctantly, she tore off the foil lid and dumped the black dressing on her salad. What a waste of good junk food.
Kirk continued to eat, and Amanda knew she was going to have to taste her salad sooner or later. She picked at a chip.
"If I eat heavy lunches, I’m not sharp in the afternoons. I save the carbs for night." Kirk gestured to the chilled bottle. "Drink your water. People don't drink enough water."
Amanda found herself obediently taking a sip of the designer water. It tasted just like Houston tap water. Under Kirk's watchful eye, she took another sip. What if this foreign water was really plain old tap water? Who'd know the difference? Bottled waters: The Emperor's New Clothes? No. Bottled waters: Damp Deceit. Much better. Alliteration always--
"You aren't eating your salad."
To oblige him, Amanda nibbled at a chip.
"That doesn't count."
She made a face and took a big forkful of lettuce, chewed quickly and swallowed. "Hey, that wasn't too bad. It didn't taste as ... black as I thought."
Kirk chuckled. "You aren't an adventurous eater, I take it."
"I don't give it a lot of thought." Amanda shrugged. "I guess I'm in the habit of grabbing food when I'm hungry. Every time I shop for food, it spoils before I cook it."
"Too tired to cook when you get home?" He set the bowl on the white cloth he'd spread on the ground and unfastened his cuff links.
"I've usually already eaten by then." Amanda watched as Kirk rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his arms. "I work crazy hours." She liked the contrast of the white shirt against his skin. Were men's arms supposed to be so attractive?
Kirk retrieved his bowl. "You can get caught up in that trap." He gestured to her salad, prompting her to eat.
Amanda took another bite. The salad didn't taste all that weird. Rather good, in fact. She only hoped her stomach didn't rebel at the unaccustomed fresh greens. "I'd like to point out that you seem caught up in the crazy-work-schedule trap yourself."
"You're right. That's why I consciously schedule in downtime."
"Like picnics?" Amanda plucked at the white cloth.
"Sometimes." He finished his salad and stuffed the bowl into the trash sack. "I borrowed this from our conference room. We frequently have open houses and need a tablecloth."
"But we're getting it dirty!"
"It's washable," he said, unconcerned.
Right. And one of his female brokers would probably take it home to wash. Amanda was coming to realize that they spoiled him.
"Try to relax and enjoy the weather." He leaned back, propping himself on his elbows. "A front is due in this weekend."
Amanda studied him as she ate. He had a lean look, and coupled with this salad stuff and the water, she'd guess he was a fitness buff. He probably ran a few miles every morning.
Her fork scraped the bottom of the plastic bowl, and Amanda stared down in surprise. She'd actually finished her salad. "That wasn't bad," she said, handing him the bowl. "You're into this health stuff, huh?"
"Not really." He tossed a foil-wrapped lump toward her. It plopped onto the tablecloth. "I just enjoy good food."
"What's this?" Amanda poked at the top. Too hard for tofu.
"Killer brownies."
"Ooh, they're still warm!" Amanda ripped open the foil and bit into a taste of heaven. "This is food."
They didn't say anything for the next few minutes, but it was a comfortable silence, one Amanda hated to break. However ... "The reason I called you was to talk about Virginia's Santa reports."
"Isn't that all finished?"
Amanda smoothed the crinkles out of the foil so she could collect the last of the brownie crumbs. "Malls just outside Houston want their Santas rated, too."
"There's only been the one report. How'd the other malls find out about it?"
"We've been advertising. Anyway, I wanted to know if I could drive Virginia out there this week." Or you could. Then we could have a repeat of Saturday.
"If it's all right with Virginia, it's all right with me. When were you planning to go?"
Amanda toyed with the idea of suggesting Saturday, but Kay would have a fit if she didn't have the reports in the can. "I'll have to find out when her Christmas pageant rehearsals are scheduled."
Kirk looked blank. "Virginia's in a Christmas pageant? When did that happen?"
Amanda explained. "She has a part in her school's Christmas program. She's really excited. I'm surprised she didn't tell you all about it."
"Haven't really seen her all that much since Saturday." At Amanda's accusing look, he explained, "I was at the office most of yesterday and had a breakfast meeting today."
"Hmm." Checking for any stray brownie crumbs, Amanda gave up and wadded the foil. It wasn't her place to criticize Kirk's relationship with his daughter, but a nudge or two in the right direction wouldn't hurt. "I know she'd like to spend more time with you."
A shadow passed over his face. "I'm doing the best I can."
Amanda shouldn't have brought it up. Most single mothers of her acquaintance carried around a heavy load of guilt. It was sexist of her to think that single fathers wouldn't, as well. "I'm sorry."
He waved off her apology. "I only wish I had more time." He regarded her for a moment before adding, "Then I could spend some with you, too."
She glanced away. "I thought we were talking about Virginia."
Kirk shifted until he was leaning on one elbow, facing her. "So talk."
Actually, there was nothing more to say, unless Amanda was prepared to lecture him on his daughter. And who was she to lecture on parenting?
"Well?" he prompted at her continued silence.
She looked up. His expression told her that he knew she was using Virginia as a buffer.
"I'd like to see you again," he said with a directness she couldn't ignore. "Do you feel the same way?"
She drew a knee up to her chest. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she gazed at the traffic outside the park and tried to think of a response.
It was a straightforward, we're-too-old-for-games kind of question, and it deserved an answer in kind. Unfortunately Amanda didn't have one. "I don't know."
"Fair enough." The plastic bowls cracked as Kirk crumpled the trash, obviously preparing to leave--obviously interpreting "I don't know" as "no".
Amanda didn't mean "no" and she wasn't ready for their lunch to end. "I don't date much," she felt compelled to say. "I suppose you could say I don't date at all."
His gaze flicked over her. "That's clearly your choice."
Amanda smiled. "Thanks."
Kirk got to his feet and deposited their trash in a green can. When he turned back, the golden autumn sunlight gilded his face and hair, momentarily dazzling her.
This man is interested in you, the key word being man. Mature. Successful. Responsible. Considerate. He's not a selfish kid like Trenton was.
"I was married once," Amanda said all in a rush. "I'm a little skittish about starting ... relationships." She wished she hadn't had to use the "r" word.
Kirk stood over her, hands in his pockets. Amanda knew he'd planned to pull up the tablecloth, walk her to her car and bid her farewell. Probably forever.
Or at least until Virginia brought them together again.
She could tell he was still thinking about it by the way he stood there.
"What happened?" he asked at last, easing himself back onto the tablecloth.
"We were both too young." Grasping both knees, Amanda continued, "I quit college to support him while he went to law school. He grew. I didn't." It was as simple as that.
She braced herself for the old feelings of bitterness and was surprised when they didn't come.
"And you've been making up f
or lost time ever since, right?"
He was right. Amanda didn't like knowing that he'd analyzed her so easily. "Dipping into the pop-psychology books?"
"Regular psychology books, actually," he corrected without taking offense. "I'm selling homes, not just houses. If I can figure out what a family wants--not just what they say they want, but what's really important to them--I've got a better chance of making a sale."
"What kind of a house would you show me?"
Kirk sat up and brushed at his slacks. "You aren't the house type. I'd steer you toward a small apartment in an exclusive high rise with a health club on the top floor--"
"I'd never use it."
"No, but you'd feel healthier knowing it was there if you ever changed your mind."
He was good, Amanda thought. "What else?"
"There'd have to be a doorman and maid service, a restaurant next door, and ideally this would all be located right by your studio."
"Perfect. Where do I sign?"
Kirk grinned and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Other than Briar Oaks over there, Houston isn't much for high-rise apartment buildings."
"I knew it sounded too good to be true." Amanda sighed. "Probably out of my price range, anyway."
Kirk regarded her for a moment. "Not for long. You look like you're a woman on the move."
His observation pleased her, because that's what she wanted to be. Reluctantly looking at her watch, Amanda stood. "And I'd better be moving on back to the studio." She shook out the table cloth, roughly folding it.
"You never answered my question." Kirk took the bundle from her. "Shall we get together again?"
Amanda didn't want to answer that question. She had a nice life and a goal. There wasn't room enough for a man with Kirk's responsibilities. Would it be fair to start something that couldn't go anywhere? Did she want to put herself through that?
And it wasn't just Kirk. There was Virginia to consider, too. Kids didn't understand about grown-ups and goals.
The breeze pulled her hair across her face. Before Amanda could tuck it back behind her ear, Kirk reached out and did it for her.
He trailed his fingers along the length of her jaw, his thumb moving in a light caress.
Amanda inhaled softly. He was reminding her of their kiss. He was thinking about it, too. She could tell by the softened but still intense look in his eyes.
And then his lips were on hers, and she didn't need reminding any more. She didn't need to think about her decision anymore, either.
"Well?" he whispered, his mouth teasing the corner of hers.
"Yes," she heard herself answer and laughed. "Definitely yes."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The week flew by and Amanda was almost too busy to notice that Kirk hadn't called her. Almost.
"Daddy says hi," Virginia reported on one of their drives to yet another mall. She never seemed bored by their trips, or visiting Santa Claus after Santa Claus. When they returned to the studio to tape the rating segments, Virginia remembered where to stand and what to say. She could have a career in this business, if she wanted to, Amanda thought.
"Tell Daddy hi back," Amanda replied, wondering why Daddy didn't say hi himself.
She wasn't going to call first. Absolutely not. If it was meant to be, then it would happen. Her life was fine just the way it was. She had stories to produce. Promotions to get. She even had a five-foot-long sleep pillow that was just fine to hug at night. And it didn't snore.
There was no way she'd call first.
She sat in her cubicle and stared at the telephone. Come to think of it, no one had called her in a while. Maybe the phone was broken, she thought, reaching for it.
"Amanda!" Kay stuck her head into the cubicle.
Amanda snatched her hand from the phone.
"What's the kid's schedule?"
Amanda didn't need to ask who "the kid" was. Virginia was becoming a celebrity. The ratings for the after-school portion of the program were up.
But that paled beside the fact that their nightly newscast had, for the first time ever, actually beaten one of the network affiliates in that time slot.
There was great rejoicing at the Hello Houston studios.
This morning a talent agent had contacted them, wanting to know if Virginia was being represented. Amanda tried to tell him there was nothing to represent, but he wouldn't believe her.
She probably ought to tell Kirk about that. Who knows? Maybe Virginia could act in a television commercial or two. It was a great way to build up a college fund.
Amanda would remember to mention it when Kirk phoned.
"Amanda? Hello?" Still in the doorway, Kay waved her hand back and forth.
"Sorry. I was thinking."
"Look." Kay walked into Amanda's office and thrust a pile of pink message slips at her. "All calls about the kid."
"Yes, the public likes her."
Kay glanced around the clutter in the office, then shoved aside a pile of phone books on the desk and sat perilously close to Amanda's leftover coffee.
"These aren't from the public." Kay put on her reading glasses and thumbed through the papers. "Malls and wannabe Santa Clauses. Radio stations--one of them is considering holding a Santa Claus contest, and they want Virginia to judge."
"Oh, for heaven's sake." With everything going on in the world, this was what excited the masses?
"What's on your docket?" Kay asked and turned around Amanda's desk calendar.
"Just finishing up a few stories."
"Hmm." Kay flipped through the calendar pages.
"Then I'll start my child-safety piece," Amanda said pointedly.
"The Santa reports come first," her boss decreed. "Clear away everything. If you need help, ask. Maria Alvarez--"
"No!"
Kay stared at her over the tops of her glasses.
"I can handle everything." That was all Amanda needed--Maria Alvarez being assigned the child-safety story.
Kay opened her mouth, probably to do that very thing, when the telephone rang.
Amanda snatched it up in midring. "It's for you," she said, ungraciously thrusting the handset at Kay.
Kay listened silently, but her eyes grew wide. "When?" she asked sharply, and motioned for a pencil and paper. "How big?"
Amanda's foot twitched. A breaking story! And Kay was in her office. Finally, some luck.
"How many people?" Kay stopped writing.
A disaster. It had to be a disaster. Something probably exploded. No, a hostage situation. Someone crazed by too many repetitions of Jingle Bells had gone berserk--
"Amanda!" Kay slammed down the phone and scribbled on the notepad.
"What do you need?" Amanda concentrated on sounding calm and competent. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. Did that guy over in news still have access to an extra bullet-proof vest?
"Can you go to Dallas this weekend?"
A field assignment. This was great. "Yes. What's the story?"
"KDAL has engineered a media event. Since Virginia can't find the real Santa in Houston, they want her to go rate the Santas in Dallas."
***
"And so they want her to go rate the Santas in Dallas." Amanda tried to inject enthusiasm into her recital.
Kirk ran his fingers through his hair, something he rarely did, and stared at the house in front of him. "Hasn't this whole thing gotten out of hand?"
Amanda certainly thought so, but couldn't dare say. "You never know what's going to hit the public's fancy. Virginia and her candy-cane ratings just touch people." People with too much time at their disposal.
Kirk sighed and checked his watch. He and Amanda were leaning against his car, which was parked in front of a rambling house on a wooded lot in the silk-stocking Memorial area. "Look, I've got a couple coming to view this house in a minute. I--" He broke off and shoved his hands into his pockets.
If Amanda hadn't known better, she'd have sworn he was nervous. Glancing at the house, she figured he had a ri
ght to be. It was an architect's nightmare. No, it was several architects' nightmare. Amanda knew next to nothing about houses, but even she could see that this one sprawled across the lot like a crazy quilt of architectural styles.
"I don't know." Kirk sighed again. "I don't know if it's a good thing for Virginia to go to Dallas."
This wasn't the same Kirk who'd brought her on a picnic lunch. He was preoccupied, and Amanda probably shouldn't be bothering him when he was working. But she needed an answer, and Rosalie, the receptionist, had told her she didn't expect him back in the office that day.
He wasn't glad to see Amanda. He'd tried to fake it, but not convincingly. After a moment or two, he'd stopped trying.
Unfortunately, Kirk wasn't the only one who was working. Amanda needed an answer now. "It might not have occurred to you, but Virginia could use this opportunity to her advantage. I had a talent agent call me this morning."
"What?" He'd been staring down the street. Now she had his full attention.
"A talent agent. If Virginia wanted to, she could probably make a few commercials, or more if you decided to push it."
"Why would I want to push it?"
"I don't know, college money?"
Kirk gave her a forbidding look. "I can pay for her college."
"I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't." Amanda jammed her hand into her pocket and began rubbing the worry stone. "Just that if you ever thought about an acting career for Virginia, she's in a good negotiating position right now."
"Don't be absurd." Kirk pulled back his cuff to inspect his watch again.
"Listen, I've got to get back to my producer. She needs to call that radio station."
Instead of answering, Kirk drummed his fingers on the hood of his car and stared at the end of the block.
Amanda stepped in his line of sight. "What about Dallas this weekend?"
"Amanda ... " He met her eyes fully for the first time since she'd arrived. "I don't think so. We've got to call a halt to this sometime."
"How about sometime later?"
His gaze flicked away as he shook his head slightly.
"Christmas Eve is in three weeks. It'll end then, for certain. Frankly, Virginia's having a good time. Remember Saturday?"
The Santa Sleuth Page 9
