The Real Thing. Brenda Jackson

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      “Yes.”

      “From who?”

      “I’d rather not disclose my sources.”

      “And you think they’re reliable?” he asked.

      “I see no reason why they shouldn’t be.”

      He shrugged before closing the door. She watched him sprint around the front to the driver’s side to get in. He buckled his own seat belt, but before pressing the key switch he glanced over at her. “There’s only one reliable source when it comes to me, Trinity.”

      She lifted a brow. “And who might that be?”

      He pointed a finger at his chest. “Me. Feel free to ask me anything you want...within reason.”

      She smiled. “Then here’s my first question. More women have purchased cars from your friend than men, right?”

      He returned her smile as he backed out of her driveway. “I’ll admit that they have.”

      “I’m not surprised.”

      “Why not?”

      “Several reasons,” she said, noticing the smooth sound of the car’s engine as he drove down her street.

      “State them.”

      She glanced over at him. He had brought the car to a stop at a traffic light. “I can see where some women would find you persuasive and lap up anything you say as gospel.”

      A smile she wouldn’t categorize as totally conceited touched his lips. “You think so? You believe I might have that much influence?”

      “Yes, but mind you, I said some women.”

      “What about you? Are you ready for a new car?”

      She held his gaze. “Unless it’s free, I’m not interested. A car payment is the last thing I need right now. The car I presently drive is just fine. It gets me from point A to point B and if I sing to it real nice, it might even make it to point C. I can’t ask for anything more than that.”

      “You can but you won’t.”

      His comment was right on the money but she wondered how he’d figured that out. “Why do you say that?”

      The car was moving again and he didn’t answer until when they reached another traffic light a few moments later. He looked over at her. “You’re not the only one with sources. I understand that beneath those curls on your head is a very independent mind.”

      She shrugged as she broke away from his look to glance out the window. “I can’t handle my business any other way. My parents raised all of us to be independent thinkers.”

      “Is that why you didn’t go along with Tara’s plan at first?”

      She looked back at him. “You’ll have to admit it’s a little far-fetched.”

      “I look at it as a means to an end.”

      “I just hope it works.”

      “It will.”

      She was about to ask why he felt so certain when she noticed they had pulled up for valet parking. The building was beautiful and the architecture probably dated back to the eighteen hundreds. Freestanding, it stood as an immaculate building with a backdrop of mountains. “Nice.”

      “Glad you like it. It was an old hotel. Now it’s been renovated, turned into a theater that has live shows. Pam’s group is working on a production that will be performed here.”

      Trinity knew Dillon’s wife, Pam, used to be a movie star who now owned an acting school in town. “That’s wonderful.”

      “I think so, too. Her group is working hard with rehearsals and all. It will be their first show.”

      When they reached the ticket booth the clerk greeted Adrian by name. “Good evening, Mr. Westmoreland.”

      “Hello, Paul. I believe you’re holding reserved tickets for me.”

      “Yes sir,” the man said, handing Adrian an envelope. Adrian checked the contents before smiling at her. “We’re a little early so we might as well grab a drink. They serve refreshments while we wait.”

      “Okay.”

      When they entered the huge room, Trinity glanced around. This area of the building was nicely decorated, as well.

      “What would you like?” Adrian asked her.

      “What are you drinking?”

      “Beer.”

      “Then I’ll take one, as well.”

      Adrian grabbed the attention of one of the waiters and gave him their order. It was then that a couple passed and Adrian said, “Roger? Is that you?”

      A man who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties turned and gave Adrian a curious glance. “Yes, I’m Roger. But forgive me, I can’t remember where we’ve met.”

      Adrian held out his hand. “Adrian Westmoreland. We’ve met through my brother Dillon,” he lied, knowing the man probably wouldn’t remember but would pretend that he did.

      A huge smiled appeared on the man’s face as he accepted Adrian’s handshake. “Oh, yes, of course. I remember now. And this is my wife Kathy,” he said, introducing the woman with him.

      Adrian shook her hand. He then turned to Trinity and smiled. “And this is a very special friend,” he said. “Roger and Kathy, I’d like you to meet Dr. Trinity Matthews.”

      Trinity couldn’t help wondering what was going on in that mind of Adrian’s. She soon found out when he said, “Trinity, I’d like you to meet Roger and Kathy Belvedere.”

      Trinity forced herself not to blink in surprise as she shook the couple’s hands. “Nice to meet you.”

      “Likewise,” Roger said, smiling. “And where do you practice, doctor? I’m familiar with a number of hospitals in the city. In fact,” he said, chuckling and then bragging, “my family is building a wing at Denver Memorial.”

      “That’s where I work. I’m in pediatrics, so I’m familiar with the wing under construction. It’s much needed and will be nice when it’s finished,” Trinity said.

      Roger’s smile widened. “Thanks. If you work at Denver Memorial then you must know my brother Casey. He’s a surgeon there. I’m sure you’ve heard of Dr. Casey Belvedere.”

      Trinity fought to keep a straight face. “Yes, I know Dr. Belvedere.”

      “Then I must mention to him that Kathy and I ran into the two of you.”

      “Yes, you do СКАЧАТЬ