“Wow. Am I seeing right? You look stressed?”
“I met a woman today.”
Morgan waited.
“And?”
“There’s something different about her.”
His assistant with the attitude clutched at her heart. “I didn’t think it would ever happen. I told you we weren’t interchangeable.”
“I’ve never said that. Particularly not about you.”
“Me aside, let’s face it. You might be Einstein where IT is concerned but you’re a freshman as far as intimate relationships go. Four weeks seems about your limit.”
“If something’s not working, why drag it out?”
“He says, leaving behind a string of women with bittersweet stars in their eyes.”
Daniel faced her. “But you’ve never had stars in your eyes where I’m concerned, have you, Morgan?” He headed for his desk. “At the risk of sounding full of myself, why not?”
Daniel guessed Morgan’s ancestry lay in the East. Her hair was gleaming and straight, like a sheet of darkest silk. She was petite with dainty hands, a round face and an impressive IQ that gave his own impressive score a run for its money. She also possessed a telepathic ability to predict his needs precisely, which was the reason she accompanied him everywhere. Rarely was she taken aback. Now, however, genuine shock widened her almond-shaped eyes.
“You’re my boss,” she said. “Being attracted to you would never enter my head.”
“Same here.”
“Because of that extra ear in the middle of my forehead, right?”
“All I’m saying is a man knows when there’s a mutual connection. He feels that spark. The simmer of primal heat.”
She knitted her fine, dark eyebrows together. “Maybe you should talk to a boy buddy about this.”
“No. I need a female’s take.”
Pushing out a breath, she crossed over to him, her designer combat trousers rustling as she took a seat. “So, you met a woman.”
“I asked her out to dinner. She declined.”
Morgan grinned. “I’ll put out a press release.”
“She wanted to say yes, but something held her back. She was trying her best to be cool about it. Dismissive. But I’m not mistaken. Those sparks were firing.”
He recalled the way Scarlet Anders had looked at him, almost fearful but hungry, too. What was the problem? She didn’t like his cologne?
“My best guess,” Morgan said, “is that she’s either seeing a guy or getting over one.”
“Attached or burned … I see.” He absorbed the opinion, then went on. “I have her number. Business number at least.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, made a decision, then reached for the phone. “I’ll call her.”
Morgan cringed. “If she said no, that move could feel a little stalkerish.”
“I don’t stalk. It’d be a follow-up.”
“Uh-huh.” She stretched out her legs and her Doc Marten heels dug into beige plush pile. “Who is she?”
Daniel filled Morgan in. She already knew about Max and Caroline Cranshaw tying the knot; part of his reason for being in D.C. was to personally congratulate the couple and offer his support before the big day. Morgan hadn’t known about his planned visit to DC Affairs, however. When he’d finished telling her about his meeting with Scarlet, his assistant blinked twice.
“Let me get this straight. You want to help a professional wedding planner plan a wedding?”
“You’re on my side, remember?”
“Fine.” She shrugged as if this most difficult problem had an easy solution. “Next time you meet up with Max Grayson and his fiancée, ask a few questions about your Scarlet. If she and Caroline Crawshaw are good friends, as you say they are, she’ll gush with information.”
The cogs began to whir, and his smile grew and grew.
“Very crafty, Ms. Tibbs.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Now you’re accusing me of being shrewd?” Tipping back, he thatched his fingers behind his head and put his loafers up on the desk, crossing one ankle over the other. “Need I remind you that I’m the poster boy for Free and Easy.”
“Or that’s what you’d like everyone to believe, including yourself.”
His grin wavered. Sometimes he wondered if his assistant knew him a little too well.
“Now that we have your social life sorted,” Morgan went on, “you need to know who called today. It’s not public knowledge yet, but apparently a congressional committee has been formed to investigate concerns regarding hacking into private computer systems and phone networks during the presidential campaign.”
“Which resulted in the president’s paternity question.” Daniel straightened and set both feet on the floor. “Why am I not surprised?”
“They want you to return their call as soon as possible.”
An army of ants crawled up Daniel’s back and he shuddered. “I don’t like this cloak and dagger stuff.”
“Then you’d better get the hell out of Dodge.” When his frown didn’t ease, she sighed and pushed to her feet. “You’re the current Mr. Big of the IT world. They want to pump you for information on the basics as well as possible dangers of hacking they’d rather not even think about. Most importantly, they’re hoping you can tell them who might be behind it all.” She headed out. “I’ll get that commission representative back on the phone.”
“Hang on to that thought.” Daniel reached for the office extension. “The White House might be digging for clues, but I have a pressing matter of my own to clear up first.”
He’d decided to follow Morgan’s sound advice regarding Scarlet Anders. He wouldn’t call her. He had a far better idea.
Scarlet greeted Ariella Winthrop at her Georgetown town house with a huge I’m-here-for-you hug, then quickly shut the door.
After receiving Ariella’s text message, Scarlet had called her right back. Her friend had wanted a hand to hold when she read the paternity results. Rather than meet at Ariella’s house or the office, where the chance of media hounds skulking around was higher, they’d agreed to meet at Scarlet’s home as soon as possible.
Now Ariella reached to take her friend’s hand at the same time Scarlet spotted the envelope.
“When I lost my adoptive parents in that accident,” Ariella said, lifting that envelope to her chest, “I missed them so much I prayed that a miracle would bring them back. Now I’m finally facing the prospect of knowing my biological father. Hopefully having a relationship. I can’t get my head around the fact that man might be the president of the United States.”
“You still haven’t spoken with Ted Morrow?”
“Only his office. It’s all very clinical. Respectful but with an undercurrent of ‘tread carefully.’ As if I’m anyone to be afraid of.”
Except where the president’s popularity polls were concerned, Scarlet thought. This situation should have had nothing to do with politics but some were of the opinion private skeletons in the closet made for the juiciest scandals. In this day and age of sharing everything with everyone on sites like Waves, it seemed that nothing remained sacred, including an individual’s feelings.