Genuine Lies

child’s room, in the room where she slept. Just what would he find of Julia in Julia’s most private space?
    He looked back at her and smiled. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
    “Yes, I said something.” She blew out a stream of impatience. “I said what do you want with Brandon?”
    “I’m not planning to kidnap him or take him off to show him my newest copy of
Penthouse.
It’s man business.” When she stomped down the rest of the stairs, he grinned. “Had a rough one?”
    “A long one,” she said. “He’s not home from school yet.”
    “I can wait.” His gaze flickered down, then back. “You’re barefoot again. I’m so glad you didn’t disappoint me.
    She shoved her nervous hands into the pockets of her suit jacket. He should have to register that voice with the police, she thought uneasily. Or maybe with medical science. It could put a woman into a coma—or bring her straight out of one, terminally aroused.
    “I really am busy, Paul. Why don’t you simply tell me what you want to talk to Brandon about?”
    “You really are quite the mother. It’s admirable. Basketball,” he told her. “The Lakers are in town Saturday night. I thought the kid would get a kick out of going to the game.”
    “Oh.” Her face was a study in contradictions. Pleasure for her son, concern, doubt, amusement. “I’m sure he would. But—”
    “You can check with the cops, Jules. I don’t have a rap sheet.” Idly, he plucked one of the rose petals from the bowl and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “As a matter of fact, I have three tickets, if you want to tag along.”
    So that was it, she thought, disappointed. It wasn’t the first time a man had tried to use Brandon to get to her. Well, Paul Winthrop was in for his own disappointment, she decided. He’d opened himself up for a night with a ten-year-old, and that’s what he’d get.
    “It’s not my game,” she said mildly. “I’m sure you and Brandon would do better without me.”
    “Okay,” he said so easily, she only stared. “Don’t feed him. We’ll catch something at the arena.”
    “I’m not sure—” She broke off at the sound of a car.
    “Looks like school’s out,” Paul commented, and tucked the petal into his pocket. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure Brandon and I can work out the details.”
    She held her ground as her son burst through the front door, book bag swinging. “I didn’t miss one on the spelling test.”
    “Way to go, champ.”
    “And Millie had her babies. Five of them.” He glanced at Paul. “Millie’s the guinea pig from school.”
    “I’m relieved, for Millie’s sake, to hear that.”
    “It was kinda gross.” Brandon couldn’t help but relish it. “She looked sick and all, and just was lying there breathing real fast. Then these little wet things came out. And there was blood too.” He wrinkled his nose. “If I were a lady, I wouldn’t do it.”
    Paul had to grin. He reached out and tugged the bill of Brandon’s cap over his eyes. “Lucky for us they’re made of sterner stuff.”
    “I’m pretty sure it had to hurt.” He looked at his mother. “Does it?”
    “You bet.” Then she laughed and swung an arm over his shoulder. “But sometimes we get lucky, and it’s worth it. I’ve almost decided you are.” Since it didn’t seem quite the time for a discussion on sex education and childbirth, she gave him a quick squeeze. “Mr. Winthrop came to see you.”
    “Really?” As far as Brandon could remember, it was the first time an adult had ever done so. Especially a male adult.
    “It so happens,” Paul began, “the Lakers are in town Saturday.”
    “Yeah, they’re playing the Celtics. It’ll be maybe like the biggest game of the whole season, and …” A thought wiggled into his brain, such a huge and stunning one, he gaped.
    Paul’s lips curved as he saw the wild hope in the boy’s eyes. “And it so happens I’ve got a couple of extra tickets. Wanna go?”
    “Oh, wow.” His eyes threatened to pop out of his head. “Oh, wow. Mom, please.” As he turned to grab her around thewaist, his entire face was suffused with urgent pleading.
“Please.”
    “How could I say no to someone who aced his spelling test?”
    Brandon let out a whoop as he hugged her. Then to Paul’s astonishment, the boy spun around and launched into his arms. “Thanks, Mr. Winthrop. This is the best. Really the best.”
    Rocked by the spontaneous show of affection, Paul patted