Genuine Lies

Winthrop. How would you describe his relationship with Eve?”
    “Paul?” Drake’s brows drew together. “There’s no blood tie there, though she’s certainly fond of him. You might consider him one of her entourage, one of the attractive younger men Eve likes to surround herself with.”
    Not only no gratitude, Julia reflected, but a thin little streak of nastiness. “Odd, I would have thought Paul Winthrop very much his own man.”
    “He certainly has his own life, his own successes, as far as his writing career.” Then he smiled. “But if Eve snaps her fingers, you can bet your last dollar Paul will jump. I’ve often wondered … strictly off the record?”
    “Of course.” She hit the stop button on the recorder.
    “Well, I’ve wondered if they’ve ever indulged in a more intimate sort of relationship.”
    Julia stiffened. More than a thin streak, she realized. Under all that gloss, Drake Morrison was eaten up by nastiness. “She’s more than thirty years older than he.”
    “Age difference wouldn’t stop Eve. That’s part of her mystique, and her continuing charm. As for Paul, he may not marry them as his father does, but he has the same weakness for beautiful women.”
    Finding the subject distasteful, Julia closed her notebook. She had all she wanted from Drake Morrison for the moment. “I’m sure Eve will tell me if she decides their relationship warrants space in the book.”
    He tried to pry the slight opening wider. “She tells you such personal matters? The Eve I know keeps things to herself.”
    “It’s her book,” Julia commented as she rose. “It would hardly be worthwhile if it wasn’t personal. I hope you’ll talk to me again.” She offered a hand and tried not to wince when he took it and raised it to his lips.
    “Just name the time and place. In fact, why don’t we have dinner?” He kept her hand, brushing his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “I’m sure we can find more to talk about than Eve—however fascinating she is.”
    “Sorry. The book’s taking up nearly all my time.”
    “You can’t work every night.” He slid his hand up her arm to toy with the pearl stud at her ear. “Why don’t we get together at my place, informally? I have a number of clippings and old photos you might be able to use.”
    As a variation on showing off etchings, it didn’t take much creativity. “I try to make it a policy to spend the evenings with my son—but I’d love to see the clippings, if you wouldn’t mind sending them over.”
    He let out a half laugh. “Apparently I’m being too subtle. I’d like to see you again, Julia. For personal reasons.”
    “You weren’t being too subtle.” She picked up her recorder and put it into her briefcase. “I’m just not interested.”
    He managed to keep his hand light on her shoulder. Pulling a mock grimace, he pressed the other to his heart. “Ouch.”
    That did the job of making her laugh, and making her feel ungracious. “I’m sorry, Drake, that wasn’t very smooth. I should have said that I’m flattered by the offer, and the interest, but the timing’s off. Between the book and Brandon, I’m much too busy to think about a social life.”
    “That’s a little better.” He kept his hand on her shoulder as he walked her to the door. “How about this? I’m probablythe best one to help you with this project. Why don’t you show me your notes as you go, or what you’ve drafted so far? I might be able to fill in some blanks for you, suggest a few names, even jog Eve’s memory. While I’m doing that …” His gaze roamed slowly over her face. “We could get to know each other better.”
    “That’s very generous.” She put her hand on the door, struggling not to be irritated when he casually set his palm against the door to keep it closed. “If I run into any snags, I may take you up on it. But since it’s Eve’s story, I’ll have to check with her.” Her voice was mild and friendly as she tugged open the door. “Thank you, Drake. Believe me, I’ll call you if I need something from you.”
    She smiled to herself as she passed out of the reception area. Julia was damned sure something was already up. And that Drake Morrison was right smack in the middle of it.

Julia slipped out of her shoes and walked barefoot into her office. The freesia the gardener had chivalrously given to her the afternoon before brought the delicacy of early spring to the cluttered room. When she rapped her bare toe against a