Free Dying to Have Her by Heather Graham Page A

shades you’re wearing—that you’re the Verona Valentine of television’s most popular soap?” Doug demanded.
    “What if handsome over there—ordering an iced cappuccino, skim milk, please—is a reporter?” Serena inquired. Maybe that was why he was familiar to her.
    “He’ll pin you to the chair. Maybe he’s just a fan, and he’ll scream your name, and all these people will come running over?” Doug taunted in return.
    Serena pulled her glasses down, eyeing him coolly. “If Clark Gable arose and came walking down the street, people would come running over. I just saw the kid from that new teen band that’s got the entire country in his hands walk on by, and no one screamed and came running over. I think a soap actress is fairly safe in a city of hundreds of top box office performers, don’t you?”
    “You never know,” Allona said. “One-hit wonders and instant stars shine and fade—a soap star lives in the heart of the American household forever.”
    “Or at least while the show is on top,” Doug said cheerfully.
    “If he’s a reporter, he’ll pin the both of you to chairs as well,” Serena said.
    “I doubt it. You’re the performer. We merely put our words of incredible depth and wit into your mouth,” Allona said. She waved a hand in the air. “Writers. We’re a dime a dozen.”
    Serena pointed past him. “Your golden boy is about to tip the waiter and leave.”
    “Do something, Doug!” Allona demanded. “He is about to get away. At the least, we have to know if he was my prospective date—or yours.”
    Doug started to rise.
    “Wait just one second,” Serena said. She touched Doug’s arm. “Is he familiar to either of you? I could swear I’ve seen him before.”
    They both sat still, watching the man again. Then Serena shrugged. “Maybe, but …”
    The man took his coffee from the waiter at the counter, and turned toward them. “Doug!” he called, walking their way.
    “I don’t believe he’s yours,” Serena murmured to Allona, still confused as to who the man was as he came toward their table, smiling now.
    “Kyle!” Doug stood, ready to greet him.
    The man reached the table and shook Doug’s hand, and Doug looked down at Allona and Serena, smiling. “Girls, it’s Kyle Amesbury, with Haines/Clark.”
    “Oh, of course!” Serena said. Kyle Amesbury—how could she have not known? She hadn’t seen him in some time, perhaps, and he had changed quite a bit. He was in the publicity department at the company that was the main sponsor of Valentine Valley. Haines/Clark produced soap products; just as it had been at the very beginning of soap opera days, they were sponsored by a soap company. Haines/Clark made products that cleaned just about everything, from the human body to clothing, floors, appliances, rugs, drapes, and furniture.
    The last time Serena had seen Kyle, his hair had been much longer, and his clothing hadn’t had such an expensive cut. He’d rubbed her the wrong way then, she suddenly remembered. He didn’t like her, and she knew it, though she wasn’t sure why. The one time she’d been at his place, he’d wanted to show her all the bedrooms, and he’d suggested that Andy come along. She felt he was always up to something. What, she wasn’t sure.
    But he had cleaned himself up since she’d seen him last. He’d acquired an air of sophistication since the party when the Valentine Valley cast and crew had gotten together with Haines/Clark employees.
    “Kyle … Amesbury!” Allona said. She meant to sound pleased, but there was just a slight edge to her voice, and her smile appeared to be a little pained.
    “Join us,” Doug suggested.
    “Sure, I’d love to. Let me grab a chair.”
    There had only been three chairs at their table. As Doug and Kyle both looked about for a seat, Allona leaned forward to whisper quickly to Serena. “Didn’t you hear? He’s gotten promoted—he is in charge of their ad budget now.”
    No, she hadn’t heard. Joe