All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas by Suzanne Brockmann Page A

getting married to another man…?”
    Cosmo gazed at him expressionlessly for several long moments. “Who are you again?” he finally asked.
    Definitely not dumb as a stone. It was time to run away. Fast. “Friend of Art’s,” Will said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this call.”
    Phone to his ear, even though no one was really on the other end, he made his way across the crowded room.
    He almost regretted the fact that Cosmo didn’t follow him, grab him, and toss him out of the party into the still-steadily-falling icy rain.
    What was he doing here? It felt surreal.
    He’d crawled through jungles to interview guerilla leaders. He’d investigated and dug until he’d uncovered the location of an al Qaeda training camp, which had helped the U.S. apprehend dozens of terrorists. He’d stood on the ruins of an earthquake-ravaged city and written articles that had moved people and convinced them to send desperately needed aid.
    He was a journalist, not a fluff-piece reporter.
    So some gay movie star was getting married. Who on earth cared, besides Paul, his editor? And Will suspected that his editor cared more about watching Will fail, then about getting this feature.
    But failure was not an option. He
was
willing to take whatever assignments he was given, because he could no longer simply pack up and go walkabout, searching for the next big story. Thanks to his sister, Arlene, he actually had an apartment now, and rent to pay.
    He needed this job, so he was going to deliver the impossible—an interview with publicity-shy Robin Chadwick.
    It was then, almost as if he’d willed him there, that Robin himself appeared right in front of Will. He wasn’t in the middle of a conversation. He wasn’t heading somewhere else. He was just standing there, as if looking for someone.
    Will pocketed his cell phone. “Hi. Robin.”
    â€œHey, have you seen Gina?” The actor was taller than he looked on screen, and even better looking, which was kind of backward to the way it was supposed to be. He was younger than Will had expected, too, but that was possibly an illusion due to the obvious pleasure radiating off the man. He’d clearly recovered from being surprised while wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, and was now both fully clad and enjoying this party to the utmost.
    Will shook his head. “I…I haven’t.” He didn’t know who Gina was. “Great party.”
    â€œYeah,” Robin agreed. “Not
quite
the way I was intending to spend my Saturday afternoon, but this is very nice. Have we met?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I’m Will.” And Robin shook his hand. He had a warm, solid grip.
    â€œDo you work with Jules?” Robin asked.
    Moment of truth. Sort of. “No,” Will said, aware of Cosmo’s eyes still on him, from across the room. “I’m new in the office. There was an e-mail going around about this shower, so…I hope it’s okay that I came. I wanted to introduce myself.”
    He resisted the urge to touch his nose, see if it had gotten any longer, even though technically it wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t said
which
office, and if Robin assumed that he meant Art Urban’s, so be it.
    â€œOf course it’s okay.” Robin’s legendary generosity was obviously not just a legend. His charisma was also unbelievable. When he talked to someone, he was talking only to them. It was impressive. Will had met his share of celebrities whose eyes constantly swept the room, looking for someone more important to talk to. “Welcome. Although I gotta be honest, it’s a no-cell-phone day—for me and Jules, anyway. That means no calls, no
business—
just fun, Will, all right?”
    â€œYou got it.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œBut I was hoping to set up a time we could sit down and talk.” Will watched as