Chloe thought about her own reaction to Arizona and bit back a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes.”
The two women laughed.
“Gee, Mark and I have wanted children for a long time, but now I’m feeling a little left out of it. I’m getting stretch marks and a daily afternoon backache while you’re out playing with the new guy in town. It’s not fair.”
“But in a couple of months you’re going to have a baby, and all I’ll be left with is a story.” And a broken heart.
The last thought came without warning and Chloe firmly ignored it. She was not going to get involved enough to get her heart broken. In fact she wasn’t going to get involved at all.
“Speaking of the story,” she said. “I have a few questions on a couple of your sources.”
“I figured you would. My system of taking notes is tough for people to follow. You’d think after all this time I’d be more organized, but I’m not.”
Chloe went through her questions and wrote down Nancy’s replies. When they were finished she said, “From what I can tell you were angling your story toward telling about the man and his myths.”
“Right, but I was never happy with that. Have you thought of something better?”
“I don’t know if it’s better, but I have another idea. I’d like to write about the man behind the myths. Arizona has traveled all over the world. He has a strong belief in the mystical and spiritual. From what I’ve seen he has an image the media loves. But who is the man underneath? How does he decide what he’s going to pursue? What are his influences now and what were they in the past?”
“I like that,” Nancy said. “I think the readers will like it, too. Arizona is getting tons of media attention so there’s no point in rehashing old material. Everyone will be tired of it by then. But this is new and fresh. Have you run it by Jerry?”
Chloe glanced at her watch. “I have a meeting with him in a couple of hours.”
“He’s going to think it’s great.” She laughed. “Actually what you’re going to hear is a noncommittal grunt, which means he thinks it’s great. If he hates it, he tells you to your face.”
“I know that one firsthand. Okay, Nancy. Thanks for your help.” They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Chloe turned on her computer and prepared to type up her notes. Usually she could focus on her work, but today there was a voice nagging in the back of her mind.
“This is too ridiculous,” she said softly. “I won’t get a moment’s peace until I fix this.”
With that, she picked up the phone again, consulted a pad of paper and dialed.
“Room 308,” she told the receptionist. “The guest’s name is Arizona Smith.”
She waited while the call was connected. It was possible that he hadn’t gone back to the hotel yet. He might be out all day. If that was the case, she would leave him voice mail asking him to get in touch with her. No matter how long it took, she was going to have to talk to him and apologize for her behavior that morning. There was no point in trying to explain—she wasn’t about to tell him about her dream or the fact that she’d known about his scar even before he’d rolled up his sleeve. But she at least had to atone for her rudeness in running off.
The receiver was picked up, cutting off her train of thought.
“Smith,” he said by way of a greeting.
“Hi, it’s Chloe. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“No bother.”
His voice sounded normal. She took that as a good sign. “I’m calling to apologize for what happened earlier today. I don’t know why I ran off like that.” She crossed the fingers of her free hand, hoping the superstitious gesture would make up for the small lie.
“I understand. Sometimes I have that effect on women. They lose control and rather than let me see how overcome they are, they run off.”
His voice was so calm and serious it took her a minute to figure out he was teasing. She chuckled. “Yeah, right, that was it exactly. Overcome by your substantial charms, I had to retreat to the relative sanctuary of my office so that I could recover.”
“Are you better now?” he asked.
“Much, thank you.” They laughed together, then she said, “I’m serious. I don’t know what came over me. It was terrible to leave like that. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“It better not. You won’t get much of a story if you keep running out on the interview.”
“Can I make it up to you? Would you please come over for dinner tonight?”
He hesitated. Chloe swallowed as her good humor disappeared like feathers sucked up into a tornado. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “You have other plans,” she said, making it a statement, not a question. Who was she, this other woman?