Private Lives
Elizabeth Walker has spent most of the past three decades trying to forget the loss of her mother and father, a lonely childhood spent in a series of foster homes and the two baby sisters she hasn't seen in twenty-five years. She values her privacy above everything, and has built a wall around herself that few people have ever climbed.But when her best friend, Gina, risks losing her young daughter to an impersonal court system–the same system that failed Elizabeth many years ago–she vows to fight back. But Elizabeth needs help. She needs the kind of help that a family can give, and she needs Ryan Paxton, the brilliant attorney whose tragic family history is intertwined with her own.As the custody battle turns to something more dangerous–and more deadly–Elizabeth comes face-to-face with a past she has tried to forget and a future she wants to embrace.
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They were approaching the restaurant, which had half a dozen umbrella-covered tables set outside. She stopped and looked about, caught in full sunshine. Her hair was an incredible color, he thought, not red, but a dark auburn and shot through with rich fiery highlights. Thick and lustrous, it fell to her shoulders, wanting to curl in Houston’s humid air—going its own untamed way. He preferred her looking natural and feminine, as she did now in jeans and soft T-shirt. As for those green eyes…A man could learn to love the look of a woman like Liz.
“Liz—” He stopped her as she started inside. She turned, giving him a questioning look. “After this is over, would you have dinner with me? Could we get to know each other better without all the complications of Austin…and everything else?”
“I…don’t know.” She frowned.
“Are you seeing somebody?”
“No. It’s just—” Shaking her head, she looked sort of frantically at the traffic. “I’m really not interested in…that.”
He smiled, a half tilt of his mouth, knowing the risk he took teasing her. “Don’t tell me Austin’s tacky accusations were right after all?”
“Austin’s—” She looked confused a second or two before she understood. “Oh, that Gina and I—” She stopped, giving a soft laugh. “No, his accusations were probably a fantasy in his own mind. He’s just that sick.” She glanced at the door. “Are we having lunch or not?”
She hadn’t promised to go out with him, but he hadn’t been completely shot down, either, he thought. He felt hopeful. “Want to sit outside?”
Also available from MIRA Books and KAREN YOUNG
FULL CIRCLE
GOOD GIRLS
IN CONFIDENCE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m grateful to several people for advice, information and moral support in the writing of this book. To Metsy Hingle for the idea and a long list of other favors. To Emilie Richards for being a sensitive and insightful sounding board when I needed it most. To my daughter, Alison Simmons, who is tireless and patient with me in avenues of my career that do not include sitting at my computer and writing. To Jon Salem for his canny grasp of the workings of the publishing world, and the world at large, and his willingness to share it with me. To my nephew, Mike Farris, for the boat stuff. And finally, to my editor, Valerie Gray, with thanks for her astute suggestions and attention to detail.
Contents
One
“Lizzie. What’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“I don’t believe this, Louie.” Elizabeth Walker’s attention was riveted on an article in the Sunday newspaper. Her picture was front and center in the article, but it was the content of the piece that dismayed her. “You remember that reporter from the Houston Chronicle who interviewed me a couple of weeks ago?”
“After a bit of pressure from your publisher?” Louie Christian broke a piece off his bagel and tossed it from the gazebo to his dog, Archie, who caught it with a quick snap of his teeth. “Is the article in the paper today?”
“It’s the front page feature in the ‘Lifestyle’ section.”
Louie leaned over to see for himself. “Nice photo. You look very professional sitting at your computer.”
Elizabeth’s response was a disgruntled snort. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed. Listen to this.” She moved her coffee cup aside and spread the paper flat on the low table across from Louie. Grimacing, she read aloud, “‘Houston author Elizabeth Walker, winner of the prestigious Newbery Award for children’s books, leads an almost reclusive life. Repeated attempts to interview her were unsuccessful. It was only after her publisher intervened that Walker, an auburn-haired beauty who looks more like a runway model than an author of sensitive stories for children, reluctantly agreed to the interview at her home in the exclusive Memorial area. Consequently, her reluctance had this reporter’s nose aquiver. Deeper research revealed a very interesting history quite apart from her life as a writer. Walker, it seems, is the daughter of Matthew Scurlock Walker, a judge who was once a powerful political figure in Houston legal circles. After his death in a mysterious house fire twenty-five years ago, Walker left behind three daughters. Elizabeth, the eldest, was five years old at the time. Having no other relatives, her two younger siblings were adopted, but Elizabeth landed in the care of the state of Texas, then spent the remainder of her childhood in and out of various foster homes.”’
Elizabeth stood up abruptly and began to pace. “What possible relevance does any of this have on my career, Louie?”
“None, specifically, but you’ll have to admit it adds spice to the reporter’s article.”
