Night Of The Blackbird. Heather Graham
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friend.” He put on a Hollywood Irish accent. “Aye, me lass, your lover has a definite presence.”
“He’s not my lover!”
“How quickly you protest.”
“I haven’t even seen him in years.”
“I can tell you when you saw him last. Summer, almost three years ago. And you wound up lying to your family, saying you were coming back to New York, but you stayed at the Copley with him in Boston. You thought he’d stay here, because you wanted him to. He wasn’t ready, you got mad. And when he called again the following Christmas, you refused to see him.”
“I never told you all that!”
“Well, I may not have made it as husband material, but I am your best friend. And there’s something about him you can’t quite shake.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
“Trust me, I have shaken him.” She looked at her watch. “How time flies when you’re being tortured by your supposed best friend. I have to meet Mrs. Grisholm. She missed her connection this morning. She’s the lady from that little mystery theater group in Maine where the audience joins in and they do the show together. They even cook and eat dinner together. You know. I told you all about her, and it sounds like a—”
“What’s Michael going to say about the return of your old flame? Did you ever tell him about Daniel O’Hara?” Josh interrupted, amused.
“Dan is my past, Michael is none of your business.”
Josh started laughing. Her cheeks flamed.
“Saint Patrick’s Day could be lots of fun. Your sleeping arrangements may be none of my business, but we hired Michael as location manager before you two became involved, so I assume he’ll be joining us in Boston.”
“Yes, of course he’ll be joining us in Boston.”
Josh was still grinning.
“Oh, will you wipe that smirk off your face?”
“I’m sorry. As your one-time would-be lover, I find it amusing that you’ve spent half your adult life in celibacy and now you’re going to have both of the great loves of your life home for the holiday.”
“Josh…” she said warningly.
“Maybe that’s not so bad. Mum and Dad can protect you.”
She stood up. “I would thank you for being such a great business partner—”
“If I wasn’t being such a prick.” He was still laughing.
“I could tell your wife you’re being a horse’s ass.”
“She knows all about my ancient crush on you. I think she’ll find the situation just as much fun as I do.”
“You’re impossible, and I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving because you’re late, and you love me anyway,” he called after her, since she was already heading for the door.
“I don’t love you,” she called, turning around. “Make sure you get the check, and leave a decent tip.”
“You adore me!” he called after her.
At the door, she looked back. He was still wearing the same shit-eating grin. He arched a brow to her and started humming “Danny Boy.”
2
It had been a damned long day. Michael McLean took his work to heart, and he accomplished what he set out to do, whether it took diplomacy and tact or a dead-set determination and a few strong-arm techniques.
When the phone rang, Michael jumped. He’d been lying there, half asleep, and though his work meant that he got calls at all hours, he hadn’t been expecting the abrasive ring. He’d been traveling large expanses of the country—they had to be prepared for every contingency—and he was tired. For a moment the ringing was simply jarring, and he let it go on. Then he forced himself up, dragging his legs over the side of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. He started for his bedside phone, then realized that it was his cellular ringing. He rose, running his fingers through his hair, found his pants and dug out the phone.
He glanced at the caller ID. Moira.
“Hey, babe, what’s up? You’re all right, aren’t you? It’s late.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called earlier.”
“You can call me any time, day or night. You know that.”
“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft.
There were lots of women in the world. He’d known his share. But the tenor of her voice slipped into him. There were others, yes. But none quite like her. He pictured her. Moira was a beauty, with her true deep red hair and blue-green eyes. Tall, elegant, with a natural sophistication and the ability to dirty her hands and nails, laugh at any obstacle and get involved with the most absurd situations. When he’d answered the ad for an associate producer and locations manager for KW Productions, he’d known her from seeing her on the air, having studied what tapes he could find before applying for the job. She was good on tape. She was even better in person. He hadn’t been ready for the excitement she could create or the emotion she could invoke. He wished she were there right now. Amazing what the sound of her voice could do to a man.
“I should have called you—could have called you—hours ago,” she went on, then halted suddenly. “You haven’t heard from Josh already, have you?”
“No.”
He heard her sigh. “Yeah, he would make me do this one myself. And it’s so late because I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to call you.”
He was about to assure her that she never needed nerve to call him when she rushed on.
“I know how much work you’ve already done—”
“You are the boss, you know.”
“Not really. Josh and I have always made decisions together, and since you’ve been with us, well, you’ve just been the perfect addition to the show…. Oh, Lord, Michael, I’m so sorry to be doing this, but…we’re making a sudden switch in plans.”
He’d been expecting this; still, he felt every muscle in his body tense. He knew what she was about to say.
“I know that you and Josh have made an incredible effort on the Orlando angle, that acquiring permits to tape has been a bitch…but we’re switching locations for Saint Patrick’s Day. I’m so sorry. I know—”
“Family pressure, eh?” he asked quietly.
“My father has to go in for tests next week. Nothing serious, Mum assures me, but I’m willing to bet he’s still working the pub himself until all hours of the night. Anyway, she made it sound as if I were punching the Easter Bunny or something, and I…I caved in.”
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ve already looked into the Boston situation.”
“What?”
“Josh and I both kind of expected this,” he said.
She was silent.
“Moira, it’s all right. Hey, I’m going to love meeting your family. I’ll get to feel important, right? The man in your life, someone who means everything in the world to you, right?”
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
“Well, of course, you’d have nothing less, right?” he said.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“You sound so good.”
Her