Читать книгу A Mommy in Mind - Arlene James, Arlene James - Страница 8

“I take it we’re not out for a casual stroll,” Ramon observed dryly, catching up to Lori as she paused to look around.

She startled as if she’d forgotten he even existed. Ramon set his teeth, torn between irritation and pure chagrin. Baby Lucia made a mewling sound and Lori instantly—and conveniently—responded. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

After adjusting the baby’s safety harness, Lori set off at a slower pace, her gaze sweeping the area once more. Ramon considered just letting her go, but for some reason he found himself falling into step beside her. Suddenly she veered the stroller to the right, picking up speed again.

Ramon followed her line of gaze and caught sight of a jostling group of people. At its center stood a tall, slender, raven-haired man wearing a gray sport jacket over a paler polo shirt and matching slacks. The man flashed a practiced, brilliant white smile at a petite woman who thrust a scrap of paper at him. That’s when Ramon recognized him as the host of a popular local television talk show, Douglas Matthews.

Ramon had forgotten that Matthews would be filming his show from the park today. He’d read about it in the newspaper, but he rarely had time for watching television himself, especially daytime television, so the notice hadn’t made much impression on him. That apparently was not the case with the press, however.

Scuttlebutt had it that the show, Afternoons with Douglas Matthews, would soon go national. With his blue-eyed good looks and suave manner, Matthews drew attention like honey drew flies; naturally, that garnered interest from the press corps. Add in talk of national syndication, and it became a veritable circus.

Obviously, Lori intended to join the throng following the TV personality. Ramon felt a pang of disappointment. Somehow he’d thought Lori was above that kind of thing. She just didn’t seem the sort who’d idealize celebrities. Yet her attention had definitely fixed on Matthews, because as the TV host moved along the gently winding path toward a cordoned-off set in the distance, Lori went after him at a near run, jogging along behind the stroller.

Matthews stopped to work the crowd again, hastily signing autographs while reporters peppered him with questions and he tossed off answers. Ramon let his feet carry him to Lori’s side once more, not that she seemed to notice. She’d gone up on tiptoe to get a better look.

“Is the show going national?” someone asked.

“Let’s just say the chances are looking better and better.”

“When is the show going national?”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Care to tell us which network?”

“I’d love to tell you which network, but I’m not allowed.”

“How do your wife and son feel about you stepping up into the big time?”

That question, for some reason, elicited a visceral response. Ramon could actually feel the shift in Matthews. His head came up sharply and for a moment that high-wattage smile dimmed. The talk-show host quickly reverted to type, but the smile looked a tad strained now.

“They’re just fine with it. In fact, they’re excited about it. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I see they’re absent today. That’s getting to be a habit, isn’t it?”

The reporter who’d asked the telltale questions slouched casually over his pad and pen, but the pose did nothing to diminish the sense of poisonous innuendo. Though balding and slight, with narrow, sloping shoulders, the fellow put Ramon in mind of a shark. Having scented blood in the water often enough himself, Ramon recognized the species.

The TV star lost his smile, his eyes narrowing, but the next instant Matthews was “on” again, all affable charm. His voice smoothed, resonating parental concern.

“My son’s got a little sunburn. You know how it is. Four-year-olds are sensitive. We were tossing a ball around in the backyard and lost track of time. Nothing serious, but we didn’t want him out in the sun again today. Like I told my wife, we don’t want to set the boy up for skin cancer twenty years down the road, now do we?”

Ramon had to hand it to the guy. He’d wielded the brush adroitly, taking the teeth out of the innuendo and painting himself as a conscientious family man in the same stroke. Yet, the picture struck Ramon as fatuous. Matthews reinforced that impression by turning abruptly, announcing that he was needed elsewhere and quickly striding away.

A dozen or so die-hard admirers followed him. The reporter who’d brought him to heel stayed behind, however, scribbling madly on his pad. Lori turned to Ramon.

“Stay here.”

He cocked his head, surprised that she was even aware of his presence. Besides, it had been, well, years since anyone, in or out of a judge’s robe, had given him such a blunt, direct order. Feeling rather like an obedient pet, Ramon stayed put and watched Lori push the stroller toward, not the attractive local celebrity, but the thin-haired, slope-shouldered reporter. Coming to a halt, Lori reached out and plucked a small tape recorder from the fellow’s shirt pocket. He made a grab for it, but Lori appeared to switch it off before handing it back.

What followed became an increasingly animated conversation carried out in harsh whispers, with much tense head-shaking on the man’s part and a lot of arm-folded insistence on Lori’s. The way the fellow kept looking around told Ramon that he did not want their argument overheard.

When the man shook a threatening finger in Lori’s face, Ramon actually stepped forward, but she gave back just as good as she got, poking the fellow in the chest until suddenly he threw up his hands in obvious capitulation. After a moment Lori inclined her head in a gracious, satisfied manner and then she turned around and strolled toward Ramon, smiling.