Free Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) by Gina Wilkins Page B

are not to report that to my father, of course.”
    “Is Gideon McCloud as weird as we thought he would be?”
    “He’s not weird.” Adrienne kept one eye on the kitchen doorway as she spoke. “Just very private. And very focused on his writing. At least, when he isn’t having to deal with other people’s crises.”
    Her own, for example.
    “So will you be coming back to New York today?”
    “Um.” Looking down at her purply, swollen foot, she said, “No, I won’t be back today.”
    “Really? So what will you be doing there in the backwoods of Mississippi?”
    “Ah, recuperating, mostly,” Adrienne mumbled. “But only for a few more days. I’ve actually gotten quite a bit of work done. I’ll be sending you an e-mail later this morning with some things I need you to do for me, and a few letters you can mail—”
    “Adrienne.”
    She sighed. “Yes?”
    “From what, exactly, are you recuperating?”
    “I was in a minor accident with my rental car, but—”
    “Oh, my God, are you—?”
    “I wasn’t hurt in the accident,” Adrienne said hastily. “It was afterward. I slipped and fell on wet pavement and sprained my ankle. I’ve been ordered to take it easy for a few days, so it’s probably best if I don’t try to make the trip home before Friday, but other than that, I’m fine.”
    “I’m so sorry you were hurt. Is there anything I can do for you? Besides the list you’re sending me, of course.”
    “No, that’s all. And, um, there’s no need to mention this accident to my father. As far as he needs to know, I’m simply taking some vacation time. He didn’t really expect to hear from me this week, anyway.”
    “He knows I’m calling you. I’ll just tell him you sound fine, which you do, so it’s not really a lie. I wouldn’t want him to be too worried about you.”
    Jacqueline’s dry tone didn’t quite hide her cynicism. Adrienne’s brusque reply did not entirely conceal a touch of wistfulness. “We both know he would be more likely to be annoyed with my carelessness than concerned for my health. But by all means, tell him I’m fine.”
    “You’re sure you’re okay there? I hate to think of you staying alone in some hotel room when you’re injured.”
    “Actually, I’m not staying at a hotel. Mr. McCloud invited me to stay at his place for a few days.”
    “Oh? Would this be the old, ugly, married Mr. McCloud?”
    Adrienne cleared her throat. She could lie to her father with ease, but she’d never been able to deceive her friend and assistant. “No. This would be the young, good-looking, single Mr. McCloud.”
    “I see.”
    The way Jacqueline stretched out those two syllables made Adrienne add hastily, “His sister’s staying here with us.”
    “Oh.” Jacqueline sounded vaguely disappointed to hear that Adrienne’s visit was being chaperoned. There was no need to tell her, of course, that Gideon’s sister had just celebrated her fourth birthday.
    She couldn’t lie to Jacqueline, but she saw no reason to tell her every little detail of this interesting interlude with Gideon McCloud.
     
    Deciding that it was entirely possible Gideon wouldn’t reappear at all that day—at least until she reminded him about picking up Isabelle—Adrienne settled in his den with her foot elevated and her work spread around her. She had trouble concentrating on her reading, though. Her thoughts kept wandering back to that late-night visit from Gideon.
    Why was she having so much trouble putting that out of her mind? She’d bet Gideon hadn’t given it another thought. He probably hadn’t given her another thought as he’d lost himself in his writing.
    When the doorbell rang at midmorning, she hesitated only a moment before reaching for the crutches and moving to answer it. She was certainly making herself at home here, she thought wryly, but it wasn’t as if Gideon would rush to open the door. He probably hadn’t even heard the bell.
    Officer Dylan Smith stood on the doorstep,