AFTERGLOW Read Online Free Page A

occurred to him that she must want to make amends. She was certainly dressed to impress.
    He discounted his own impeccable appearance.
    Elliot shot his wife an "I'm going to get you for this" look, but George just smiled sweetly at him. How could he have fallen for that flu bit? "Chelsea was just telling us her latest plot when you arrived, David."
    That drew a startled look. "Plot?" he asked, giving her his full attention. "I don't understand. You're a writer?"
    "Yes."
    "You're published?"
    He didn't have to sound so bloody incredulous, Chelsea thought. "Why, yes." She added modestly, "I was very lucky. In the right place at the right time with the right manuscript, and all that."
    "Oh, bosh, Chels," George said. "She never got even one rejection slip, David. The very first publishing house she went to signed her up immediately."
    "Which hardcover house are you with?" David asked.
    "I'm not. I'm original paperback."
    "Oh. Mass market. Well, there are plenty of fine novels in paperback."
    "Of course, and the distribution is so much greater. One would rather have two hundred thousand readers instead of just five thousand."
    Two hundred thousand! Was that just a number she'd used for illustration? David blinked. Had she bought that condo in Sausalito with her own money, then, and not Daddy's? Why the hell hadn't Elliot told him she was a writer? He shot Elliot a look, which was blandly ignored.
    "Perhaps I've read your work," he said. "What name do you use?"
    "My own. Chelsea Lattimer."
    "Sorry, but I'll keep an eye out. What do you write? Fiction? Nonfiction? Biographies?"
    Chelsea looked him straight in the eye. "Fiction. I write long historical novels. The ones filled with adventure, intrigue, lots of romance—"
    "And delicious sex," George added, rolling her eyes.
    David blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice filled with incredulous distaste, "You write romance novels?"
    "Yes, I do," Chelsea said. "May I have some more wine, George?" Time out, she thought. Oh, Lord, what should she do now?
    "Certainly, Chels."
    Chelsea forced herself to drink slowly from her newly filled glass.
    David fidgeted with his whiskey for a moment. "Do you plan to switch to more … literary work in the future?"
    "Exactly what do you mean, David?" Chelsea asked, not moving a muscle.
    "Well, really, Chelsea, that stuff is drivel. It's pap for idiots and frustrated women—"
    "I'm not a frustrated idiot, David," George said, winking at Chelsea.
    "What do you read, David?" Chelsea asked. "Or perhaps I should say, do you read?"
    Elliot seated himself on the arm of his wife's chair. He was grinning; he couldn't help it. He felt rather sorry for David, who was quickly digging a hole so deep he'd have to use a bullhorn to call someone to come to rescue him.
    "Well, of course I read. Good literature, the classics, biographies and some bestsellers."
    "Which bestsellers?"
    "Well, you know, this and that. Whatever is on the New York Times Best Seller list, I suppose."
    "Ah, you're led by what other people think," Chelsea said. "Don't you have any favorite authors? People you've picked yourself?"
    He knew he was fitting himself for his own coffin, but her damned calm, patronizing attitude was too much. "Yes, I like to read Westerns, as a matter of fact. Westerns, of course, aren't exactly great literature, but they have value, good plots, historical insights—"
    "My novels also have good plots, historical insights and accuracy."
    "But it's tripe! Good grief, men and women never behaved the way those novels have them behave!"
    "Have you ever read one?"
    "Certainly not," he snapped.
    "Why not? As a doctor, it would seem to me to be the epitome of idiocy to draw a conclusion based on not one shred of evidence, or, if you will, make a diagnosis without examining the patient."
    "It's not the same thing," he said. He shot Elliot a look of sheer desperation, but Elliot only smiled at him blandly.
    "I don't particularly care for Westerns, but at least