Sparks Fly

had more questions about Susan’s motivations, but instead he switched tactics, reaching across the table for her hand. “I want to apologize about what happened last night on the boat. About taking that call. And I need to explain about why I’m here with Susan.”
    Angelina’s mouth turned into what might have resembled a smile if she hadn’t been about to shatter. “That kiss was a mistake. A really big mistake. It won’t happen again. And you don’t need to explain anything about you and Susan. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”
    And with that, she swept out of the restaurant in as grand an exit as she could pull off, desperately hoping that Krista already had the car running, ready for a quick getaway.

    * * *
    “I thought the torture would never end.” Angelina said as she slid into Krista’s car.
    “No kidding. That woman couldn’t get enough of you. She was practically sitting in your lap.
    Your lover boy looked like he was going to punch her.”
    “He’s not my lover boy.”
    “So,” Krista said in a knowing voice, “now you’re bitter because she wants him back.”
    “I am not,” Angelina protested, much too loudly.
    “You are so falling for him.”
    Angelina glared at her best friend. “I am not.”
    Krista rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, now that I’ve given it some thought and have seen you two together again, I’ve decided it’s a good thing.”
    Angelina snorted. “Name one way it could possibly be good.”
    “How about four? One, he is so hot for you I was practically getting singed at the restaurant.”
    “Stop making things up.”
    “Shush, I’m not done yet. Two, he’s filthy, stinking rich.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Hello? Am I done with my list yet? Let’s see, where was I? Three, according to you, his kisses light you up like the Fourth of July. Are you ready for number four?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Too bad. Because number four is the incontestable fact that the two of you are perfect for each other.”
    Angelina shook her head, refusing to believe it would ever work out between her and Will. “Try this instead,” she said to Krista. “How about number one, his ex is perfect, number two, she’s gorgeous, and number three, she’s nice?”
    “None of that matters,” Krista replied confidently.
    “How can you say that? You saw her.”
    Krista pulled up in front of Angelina’s house. “He doesn’t look at her like he looks at you.”
    Angelina was afraid to hear anything else Krista had to say, so she got out of the car.
    “Sparks, baby. They’re flying.” Krista started to pull away and then hit the brakes, yelling out the window. “By the way, I’d go pick up the latest copy of People if I were you.”
    Angelina stood on the curb and watched Krista’s car round the corner, wondering about her friend’s cryptic comment about the magazine. What could People magazine possibly have to do with the hole she had dug for herself?
    She went inside her house, ignoring the mess in her living room again, and went through the motions of getting ready for the bed. She hoped that once she crawled under the covers she would be able to dim the sight of Will and his vision-of-loveliness ex wrapped in each other’s arms.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Angelina had been tossing and turning for several hours. Her bed felt more like a torture rack with every passing minute. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I have bruises all over,” she muttered unhappily as she kicked off the sheets and sat up, sliding her feet onto the floor.
    Unable to rein herself in, she sat down at her computer. Krista’s comment about People magazine had put her brain on overdrive.
    Feeling as if she were prying into a file marked Private, she typed Will Scott into Google. A few seconds later her screen was filled with listings for every kind of information imaginable—interviews, investor reports, gossip columns, and picture galleries.
    Angelina’s head whirled. “He’s this famous?” She scrolled through endless links about Will and the multibillion dollar company he owned.
    She blew out a long breath. Suddenly she saw what a complete idiot she must have looked like to him, asking if he programmed computers for a living.
    She was angry at herself and even angrier at Will for not letting her in on his little secret. Of course, she had to admit that if she kept up a little more with the news or current magazines, she would have recognized him immediately.
    Against her better