don’t mind staying late.” Adam’s smile of approval was worth the extra hours she’d been putting in. Diane was the only
female aide now, which made her a fairly powerful woman, one men were beginning to respect. And finally Adam was beginning
to notice her work. Soon it would be time for her to get him to notice Diane the woman.
“Well, if you’re sure I’m not interfering with your plans for the evening?”
What plans? she thought, still wearing her smile. “Not at all.” Quietly she left his office.
Adam again picked up the phone, his mind already on his next call.
In her San Diego apartment, Liz replaced the receiver after Fitz’s call, feeling a rush of sadness wash over her. She couldn’t
really blame Adam. From the start he’d been up front with her. He’d said he had no intention of getting seriously involved.
It had been she who’d set aside the rules and fallen in love with him. She’d known better, known his career, his ambition,
came first.
Now she was paying the price.
She stared for long minutes at the piece she’d sculpted of Adam McKenzie. She would discipline herself not to think of him
any longer. She had a child growing inside her, and her first concern must be what would be best for that child. Sometimes
the best thing—the
only
thing—to do was to let go.
Slowly she picked up the phone and dialed Richard’s number.
The Townsend house in La Jolla was perfect for a wedding. Situated high on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. it had bricked
terraces, banks and banks of windows, and stonesteps leading down to the sea. For privacy it was enclosed on three sides by high stucco fencing. Inside, it was beautiful,
with Italian marble floors, hand-carved balustrades, and a dining room that could seat thirty comfortably: exactly the number
it was set for on this Christmas Eve.
Molly walked to the top of the winding staircase and peeked down. Red poinsettias and evergreen roping along with a spectacular
Christmas tree vied with white-and-gold wedding decorations. People were milling about, the pianist was playing softly, and
through the archway she could see an obviously anxious Richard adjusting his bow tie. Everyone, it seemed, looked happy and
smiling. Too bad the bride wasn’t. She hurried back to Liz.
“You sure you want to go through with this?” Molly asked as she closed the bedroom door quietly behind her.
“We’ll be just fine.” Liz pushed a final pin into her hair to hold the short veil in place, her eyes on her mirrored reflection.
The woman staring back at her with the too bright eyes was a shade too thin and much too pale, and she had an indefinably
sad look about the mouth. Liz tried a smile, but it didn’t help much. No matter. It would have to do.
Her mother hadn’t been pleased about this rush-rush wedding. Katherine had point-blank asked Liz if she’d been sleeping with
Richard. Liz had almost smiled as she’d been able to quite honestly say she hadn’t. She’d mumbled vaguely that rushing had
been Richard’s idea, that he simply didn’t want to wait another month after she’d agreed to marry him. Katherine’s expression
clearly revealed that she knew there was more to the story, but she’d not questioned Liz further.
She was only two months pregnant and not showing at all yet. One day soon she’d tell her mother the truth, but not when she’d
scarcely become accustomed to the reality of the baby herself. Besides, the fact that premature babies ran in their family
should keep the relatives from too much conjecturing.
Because of the limited timetable, Katherine had had no choice but to keep the guest list to a minimum, a restriction that
annoyed her greatly. However, in the end she’d acquiesced graciously, and now here they all were.
“Why are you doing this?” Molly asked. “I know you don’t love him.”
With a sigh, Liz turned to face her friend. “We’ve been over this. He loves me. I like and
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