Guardian to the Heiress by Margaret Way Page B

his workout.
    After that, she found herself looking forward to her twice-a-week sessions, fitting her timetable to Damon’s. Damon and Bill were right. She did feel more confident about handling herself, should she ever come under attack. She knew the communal car park in the basement of her building was as secure as could be, with lots of light and security cameras. But there were blind spots. She always cast her eye over the car park as she entered it, checking who was about. Car parks weren’t the best places.
    Gary Prescott had left some twenty-odd notes in her mail box. They all asked the same thing: Would she have coffee with him? The first note assured her he was harmless. Note ten informed her his father’s girlfriend had moved out. Carol had thought she might have. She hadn’t seen her around and Prescott’s girlfriend had been hard to miss. Gary went on to tell her his father hadn’t returned home but he was hopeful his parents could work it out. His dad wasn’t really a bad guy. Married guys got into trouble all the time.
    So did that mean a wife or girlfriend should expect it? Carol pondered. Some men thought little of casual sex, but Steve Prescott had installed his then-girlfriend in his luxurious penthouse. Not casual at all. Maybe Steve Prescott would change. Maybe he wouldn’t. She didn’t think she would like to put Gary’s father to the test.
    * * *
    Gary Prescott wasn’t the only one to suggest they meet up for coffee, though a lot of her former friends, sadly, backed off. It was as though in becoming the Chancellor heiress she existed on a different planet. Carol was determined not to change. There was harm in losing track of normal life.
    “So how did you get hold of my phone number, Amber?” Carol asked when she picked up the phone and Amber Coleman identified herself. Her phone wasn’t in the book. It was an unlisted number.
    “Why, Damon, of course,” Amber replied as though Carol was asking a silly question. “He knows he can trust me. You, too, Carol. I’d like to be your friend. I know you’re several years younger, but I’m sure we’ll have lots in common. You could always come to me if you needed advice—perhaps with your clothes, what to wear to what function, that sort of thing. A little bird told me you bought that lovely fuchsia gown you were wearing when Damon rewarded you with a celebratory dinner at Laura G. She has fabulous things.”
    Didn’t people love to gossip? Gossip she could handle. But it upset her greatly to know Damon had given his on-and-off girlfriend her unlisted phone number. To add to it, he must have accounted to Amber for their dinner date as a reward for her scholarship.
    Even gods have feet of clay.
    She had no real knowledge of Damon Hunter. Certainly no intimate knowledge of him. Maybe falling in love made one stupid, blind to the object of one’s desire? Obviously she needed a few more years on her, a few more years of very necessary experience before she took on the love game. Suddenly she was beset by doubts and suspicions. She thought that might now be a given in her new life.
    Amber Coleman had called to make a coffee date. From her manner, she had every expectation of Carol’s agreeing on a day soon. Damon’s betrayal hit hard. Not that she would have allowed Amber Coleman into her world. She knew they would have little in common.
    Except Damon Hunter.
    Carol declined, citing numerous appointments. Amber didn’t take that well. She couldn’t hide the pique. “You must have some free time. I checked with Damon.”
    Is she trying to wind you up?
    “Damon isn’t in charge of my appointment book, Amber. In fact, I have an appointment this morning. I mustn’t be late for it. Thank you for thinking of me, Amber. I’d like to know the name of your little bird. If it was Laura G, she won’t be seeing me again.”
    Amber broke into a lavish denial. “No, no, no, never Laura, although one can always tell what comes out of her boutique.