Calculated Risk Read Online Free Page B

so…so…” he groped for the
right word “—awesome.”
    Again Stevie found herself in the
uncomfortable position of being worshiped by puppy-dog eyes.
Clearing her throat, she made her tone clipped and professional.
“Bobby, you’re failing in your duties as a tour guide.” Her elbow
prompted him into motion.
    The dining room shimmered under large,
ornate mirrors and a breathtaking chandelier that seemed an
infinite cascade of crystal icicles. The banquet-size table was
graced by a decorative ice sculpture and a bountiful array of
food.
    “The kitchen is totally twentieth
century, right down to this scary new oven that I think might be
nuclear.” Bobby’s fingers ruffled through his dark, shaggily wavy
hair. “I’d show it to you, but the caterers have thrown me out
twice.” The toe of his black dress shoe made a path in the low nap
of the rug. He took a deep breath and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go
up the back staircase.”
    She coughed. “Huh … well …” Stevie
found that her matter-of-fact attitude had deserted her. “Shouldn’t
you … shouldn’t we go back to the living room? Your doorbell has
played the entire overture and I imagine your father could use your
help with the guests.” A hopeful smile accompanied her request as
she successfully disengaged her wrist.
    “Dad’s fine. He loves to play host.”
Ignoring her stuttered protests, Bobby took Stevie’s hand and began
climbing the polished wooden steps. “The second floor lounge opens
for a spectacular view of the main gathering area. We had a
twenty-foot Christmas tree this year.”
    Bobby was right, Stevie acknowledged a
few moments later. The view was breathtaking. Even with the lack of
artificial Yuletide glitter. The main floor’s family room was a
colorful palette, resplendent, courtesy of chandeliers, fireplace
and elegant furnishings.
    While leaning over the wooden balcony
railing, Stevie discovered quite a few familiar faces among the
crowd. She was acquainted with the local politicians, very friendly
with the entertainers and had had social conversations with many of
the other guests.
    How strange that Quintin
Ward and I haven’t met before. Her hazel
eyes bridged the distance, focusing on the man in question. To her
surprise, she found herself under the same scrutiny, but the harsh
lines etched on Quintin’s face denoted a less than favorable
reaction.
    “My dad’s bedroom is the entire left
wing,” Bobby’s voice interrupted her musings. “Mine is over
here.”
    She looked at the hand that
again covered hers. “I’m too old to fall for that etchings line,” came her wry
scold. She realized she had failed to make her point when Bobby
blinked dumbly and uttered: “Huh?”
    He flipped on the wall switch; the
ceiling light flooded the room. “Look how I framed all the posters
you gave me and … and …” Bobby riffled through the papers on his
bookcase-topped desk. “—here’s that review you asked me to
do.”
    “Review?” Three vertical lines ridged
her smooth forehead. “I …I asked you to do a review?”
    “On Monday, when I picked up those
express mail packages,” Bobby prompted. “You handed me the Pit
Stops’ newest CD and asked for my opinion.”
    “Well…I…uh…” Stevie staggered in
confusion and felt in need of a chair. Since the only one in the
room was covered with clothes and books, she stumbled toward the
edge of the bed. “Bobby –“ her tone was kind “—when I said, ‘let me
know what you think of this,’ I never meant for you to give me a
written report.”
    “Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t take any
time away from my studies. I knew you’d be concerned about that.”
He balanced his right knee on the bedspread, his hands curved
around Stevie’s shoulders. “I know how you feel about
me.”
    Stevie stared at him, her eyes wide and
wondering. “How I feel about you?” She was becoming uncomfortably
aware of the fact that she was no longer in control of this
situation.