Crush by Crystal Hubbard

Author:Crystal Hubbard [Hubbard, Crystal]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781585715473
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2007-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Miranda woke up tangled in Lucas’s sheets. The bed was otherwise empty, but she heard voices—one familiar, one foreign—in the living room.

“Her name is Tabitha,” the stranger’s voice said. “That’s T-A-B-I-T-H-A.”

“Like the daughter on Bewitched,” she heard Lucas say.

“Yeah, man, that’s right!” the stranger crowed. “You know that show? I love that show! Boy, it sure must take a long time for American shows to make it over to England.”

Miranda smothered a laugh in her hand, and wrapped the sheet around her as she left the bed to go to the bathroom. When she came out, the stranger was thanking Lucas for an autograph. Although she was eager to get her hands on the coffee she smelled, she lingered in the bedroom, waiting for the coast to clear.

One of the bedroom walls was made of one-way glass. Miranda stood before it and stretched, staring down at the congestion on Boston’s busy downtown streets. The city was so much prettier and peaceful from twenty-five stories up. Miranda wished that she could wake up to such a view every morning, instead of the garbage cans and the brick sides of neighboring buildings.

She left the window and drifted to the gigantic console housing the television. She figured she’d watch SportsCenter while Lucas tried to politely extract himself from a conversation about the merits of Prince versus Stevie Wonder. Miranda forgot about SportsCenter when she opened the console and saw a photograph propped in the space between the television and the inside of the console.

She had picked it up and looked at it before it occurred to her that it was none of her business. Her stomach dropped. The glossy 8x10 pictured her on the top of her fire escape. She was dressed much as she was now, in a bed sheet, with her hair a sleep-tousled tumble about her face and shoulders. In the photo, she smiled and waved down at Lucas. Now, as she gripped the photo in her hand and stormed out of the bedroom, vinegar began to brew in her veins.

Lucas, having successfully gotten rid of the latest star-struck room service waiter, was pouring coffee into two cups when Miranda stomped up behind him. “Where did you get this?” she demanded, whapping his bare back with the photo she wielded. “Did your people call Meg and arrange for photographers to be outside my window when you left the other day?”

Lucas calmly turned and took the photo from her. “The hotel provides complimentary daily papers,” he began. “Coe’s daughter saw the fire escape photos of us, and she brought them to my attention. I liked this one, so my manager called the photographer at the Herald-Star and asked him for a print of it.” He set his hands on her shoulders, close to her neck. “That’s all, Miranda. I wanted a picture of you, and you have to admit, those photos of you are beautiful.”

Miranda’s wrath vanished, to be replaced by a brilliant flash of embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m so sorry I reacted that way, Lucas.

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