AFTERGLOW by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online

part," Elliot said, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Usually, Sarah—her housekeeper—does a pretty decent job. What I don't understand, David, is why you're so heated up about all this. It sounds to me like you and Chelsea can't be together for five minutes without one of you going into a royal snit. This time you wanted to be serious and soulful and she wanted to play. Last time you treated George and me to a marvelous battle-of-the-sexes act. And, David, Chelsea isn't immature. She's very open and giving and witty. It's just the way she is."
    "You're right. I was out of line, damn her eyes!"
    Elliot blinked. He leaned back on his elbows and stared out over the pool. The minute he'd seen David, usually a morning swimmer, come in at one o'clock in the afternoon, he had known he was in for it. Just the night before he'd sworn to George that he wasn't going to get involved anymore—"No, damn it, George, that's it! Those two … keep your hands to yourself, no, stop it, I won't change my mind"—but none of it had done him any good. So much for swearing anything.
    "She's so different, and I was very rude. What upsets me even more is that I don't know why I turned into a Mr. Hyde. She's so lovely, so warm, and I … well, I was an ass, damn it!"
    "Did you ever hear about Chelsea's parents?" Elliot asked, mentally praying for absolution himself from the sin he was about to commit.
    "No, why?"
    "Well, if Chelsea acts a bit different sometimes, or flippant, perhaps, you might consider her relationship with her parents. They're really quite rich, you know. Her dad's a dentist, her mom a world traveler. Chelsea's been alone a good deal of her life. I know they don't help her financially, and I'm certain she's much too proud to ask." Not one single lie, he thought, congratulating himself. He was as good with words as Chelsea. Maybe he should take up writing, too. A medical thriller, maybe.
    "But the condo in Sausalito. You know real estate prices around here, Elliot."
    "She probably rents it, a special deal, I think George told me once. I don't know how she makes ends meet, poor girl." He managed a commiserating sigh.
    "She won forty dollars off me at poker," David muttered.
    "Good. Now she'll be able to afford groceries."
    "She has a housekeeper!"
    "I think Sarah gives her a break. Chelsea helped her husband get his mystery manuscript read at her publishing house."
    "But what about her writing? Surely the kinds of books she writes sell, don't they?"
    Elliot shrugged, saying only, "I've heard that publishing houses don't always pay as promptly as they should. Maybe she's got a problem with advances and holdbacks and stuff like that." Deception was a wearing experience, he thought. Chelsea, to the best of his knowledge, made more money than David, and as for her parents, they were utter screwballs, true, but they loved their only daughter to distraction. Why the hell was George so set on getting these two disparate specimens together?
    He heard David say under his breath, "Then she'd never accept money from me. She's so little … I want her to eat."
    "I've got an idea, David," Elliot said, rising and stretching. He felt pleasantly refreshed after his fifty laps. He also felt guilty for making David think Chelsea was a starving waif. "Why don't you wait a week, then give her another call?"
    David looked alarmed, and Elliot said sharply, "She won't starve, David. Remember the forty dollars."
    When Elliot dutifully related the conversation to his wife that evening over dinner she burst into laughter. "You, Elliot Mallory, are a born intriguer! Now all I've got to do is work on Chelsea. I've got a week, you say?"
    "Yeah, if David doesn't break down and have groceries delivered to her house."
    "That was really a nice touch," she said, marveling at his abilities. "Now you just leave the rest to me." She paused a moment, and he knew she was listening. "That, if my radar isn't off today, is the sound of your son demanding his