Love Is the Drug by K. E. Saxon Page B

saying that I’ve been followed? For five years! That I’ve been under some sort of surveillance?? ”
    She grabbed two tall, clear glass tumblers with bright yellow smiley faces from the cupboard and turned back to face him. She curved the glasses in toward her chest, resting them just above her breasts, as if for protection. “No. It wasn’t like that, I swear. He did it mostly as a means of staying one step ahead of the media hounds—you know, ‘if there’s a story to spin, I’m going to spin it my way, and first.’”
    His eyes widened. “ He was looking for a story?”
    She shook her head. “No, no, no. Not a story. He was just trying to protect my sister’s—his client’s—image. I promise you. Nothing more.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his gaze directly on her face. “So how in depth did he go, then?”
    Her brow furrowed and she shrugged. “I never really asked him.” Her face relaxed, though her brows lifted slightly. “But it’s clear he didn’t find anything threatening to Connie, or else he’d have told us.” She stepped over to the island and carefully placed the glasses there. “All he ever said about it to me was that, other than all those speeding tickets, you were a pretty typical single guy.”
    “Thanks,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm.
    “And that your car insurance must be astronomical.”
    That made him smile and he felt the tension leave his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, but after I nearly got my license suspended a couple of years ago, I straightened up. I haven’t had a ticket since.” Which told him that the publicist must not have been snooping as much since that time. And what was more; Julie obviously had no knowledge about his biological father. Although, if the publicist had somehow found out—and it would have taken someone with at least FBI clearance to get the bank vault opened that held his mother’s diary without his or his dad’s knowledge—it was likely that he was sitting on that information in case Jason ever came forward with new evidence that might show him to be innocent.
    Yeah, telling the world that his real father was a rapist might just skew the public opinion against him for good.
    Jason took the flask from his pocket and unscrewed the cap. “So—as far as I’m concerned, we’ve talked about Connie.” While he poured a slow stream of the amber liquid into first one glass and then the other, he continued, “Since you’re more media savvy than I am—how do you propose that we ‘spin’ the story of why we’re working together?”
    Julie nibbled on her lower lip and then lifted the glass and took a small sip. It burned going down and she had to swallow an answering cough. “I don’t know,” she said, placing the glass back on top of the kitchen island and crossing her arms over her chest. “Let me think a minute.” She swallowed again, trying to sooth the liquor burn at the back of her throat a bit more.
    She really hadn’t wanted anything else to drink, but her ploy to diffuse Jason’s irritation at learning about Connie’s publicist’s nosing into his business had completely backfired on her when he’d followed her in here a few minutes ago. She would have dearly loved to keep that little gem to herself as well, but she couldn’t think of another way to convince him why she would trust him—other than admitting to having proof that he was innocent, of course. Yes, giving away that piece of unsavory information about the publicist had been her only good choice.
    And, thankfully, seeing his more familiar, relaxed behavior now, it had done the trick. “We could focus mostly on the financial benefits of our partnership,” she said. “You know, really press home how our enterprise is going to increase income in the entire community.”
    He downed the whiskey and held the back of his hand to his mouth a second before answering. “Good. I like it. And we’ll say that this was a dream of my dad’s—which