Truth

brushed her brother’s shoulder and glanced toward Claire with a sly smile, “Guess what, Harry? You aren’t one now!” Amber started to walk back toward her bedroom and turned to Claire, “Don’t worry about it. Life’s much more exciting with you around.”
    Avoiding Harry’s gaze, Claire looked toward her computer’s homepage, until Harry’s jovial voice brought her back to reality, “So, what do you think? Just in case I end up in People magazine or something, is this shirt all right? Or, do I need something nicer?”
    She returned her gaze to the man before her. From behind the soft curls she saw small lines surrounding his sparkling cobalt eyes, and his cheeks raised in a boyish smirk. Claire looked at his collarless black woven shirt with the SiJo Gaming emblem. The shirt wasn’t tight but accentuated his muscular abdomen, broad shoulders, and defined arms. Her eyes scrutinized his attire as they descended to the khaki slacks emphasizing his trim firm waist.
    Slowly she realized he was teasing her. “Actually, I think you should change.” Her smile radiated emerald shimmers.
    “ You do?”
    “ Yes, maybe something like the jeans you wore last night. You know the ones with holes – it highlights my penniless status.”
    With his grin in full gear, he reached out and covered Claire’s hand. Never before had this familiarity ignited the tightness she now felt. Claire fought between the desire to turn her hand over and return the contact and the need to pull away and run to her room. Seemingly unaware of her sudden mixture of feelings, Harry said, “If I ever do live with a penniless woman, I can only hope she has a portfolio like yours.”
    “ Oh, is that your only requirement?” Her brows rose in question.
    “ No…” his gaze captivated her, holding her prisoner. “It’s probably the least of my requirements. The first is that she doesn’t tell me what to wear.”
    Pulling her stare away, she nonchalantly replied, “Hey, you asked. But, I guess that leaves me out. Should I alert the press?”
    He winked, “No, let me enjoy my fifteen minutes for a while.”
    Claire shook her head, “Okay, our secret living arrangements are safe with me. Oh, and about fifty other people who live in this building and know the truth.”
    “ They won’t tell.” With that Harry walked toward the front door, toward his true home.
    When the door closed, she exhaled and scolded herself. The easy atmosphere of Amber and Harry’s company was a gift. The last thing she wanted to do was complicate it with feelings which surpassed friendly . In an attempt to dismiss the unfamiliar tightness, she refocused on the article.
    Claire knew she should share the nonchalant attitude of Amber and Harry. It was only she’d been taught an engrained fear of public failure, appearance, and opinion . Unconsciously, while out -- at a store, a café, or walking on the street -- Claire found herself scanning the crowds for cameras. On some occasions she would think she’d see one from her peripheral vision, and then upon second glance, the perpetrator would disappear. The photographers had to be there. How else could she grace so many magazines? A new laissez faire perspective would take time.
    Claire knew her star status would soon extinguish. After all, California was inhabited by many famous people. That meant if her story was to be newsworthy, she needed to strike while the iron was hot. That was her thought process as she reached for her telephone.
    Claire’s heart beat rapidly as she considered the repercussions of her intended actions. For once, she wasn’t being impetuous. She’d thoroughly debated this decision, knew her guidelines, her limits, and even wrote them down. Her stipulations were sitting on the counter in front of her as she dialed the phone.
    Justifiably shocked and surprised, Meredith Banks willingly dropped everything to speak with her old sorority sister. Sounding businesslike, yet friendly, Claire explained her desire to get her story out with someone she could trust.
    Candidly Claire asked, “Meredith, is that you?”
    Without hesitation, Meredith replied, “Claire, I never doubted your innocence; yes, I would be honored to help you with this.”
    Claire knew Meredith saw dollar signs and the potential for fame. She needed to know if she could trust her. To that end, she presented Meredith with a litmus test. “Before any interviews or work on my story, I want you to publish a very overdue