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interpret them for him; she was busy talking to another
broker on the phone, setting up a appointment to view a house that
afternoon.
    Even if Daphne weren’t on the
phone, Brad probably wouldn’t ask her to clarify the book’s jargon
to him. She had already gotten the upper hand enough this morning.
Brad saw no need to parade his ignorance before her.
    Had she really gotten the upper
hand, though? Peeking over the monitor’s frame, he contemplated the
woman seated across the desk from him, chatting easily with her
colleague on the phone and absently twirling her index finger
through a curling lock of hair below her ear. She certainly seemed
harmless enough when he viewed her objectively.
    Maybe she had no desire whatsoever
to knock him down a peg. Maybe he was just being
defensive.
    Of course, that was all it was. He
felt defensive because Daphne was no longer the inept, ungainly
co-ed she used to be. He felt defensive because she had improved
with age much more than he had, and because she seemed to have
risen above the past much more effectively.
    “See anything you like?” she asked,
breaking into his ruminations.
    He jerked his head toward her.
Daphne was smiling pleasantly, and Brad did his best to adopt her
cool affability. Returning her smile, he shrugged. “I’d rather look
at what you’d like to show me,” he told her.
    “All right,” she said, pulling her
briefcase from the well beneath her desk and shoving back her
chair. As soon as she stood, Brad leaped to his feet. He knew his
manners, and he wanted to impress upon Daphne that he
did.
    Just a bit more defensiveness on his part, he
muttered inwardly, wondering why the hell he felt such a strong
desire to win her forgiveness.
    ***
    HE WAS better looking than she’d
remembered.
    Not that she had ever considered
him bad looking, Daphne admitted as she steered her car through the
late-morning traffic toward the scenic park that was one of
Verona’s most charming assets. Since Brad seemed relatively
unfamiliar with the area, she planned to take him on a brief tour
of Verona, the Caldwells, Cedar Grove—the towns her office of
Horizon Realty served—to give him a feel for this part of New
Jersey. While she drove, she pointed out interesting landmarks and
provided useful information: “That road will eventually lead you to
Bloomingdale’s, if you like to shop,” or “Here’s the entrance to
Caldwell College,” or “This is one of the better golf courses in
the area.” It was her standard speech, altered to suit the
individual client. She wasn’t sure whether or not Brad played golf,
but she doubted he was all that interested in the local school
systems.
    As she spoke, she glanced
frequently at him. Each time she did, she was struck by how
handsome he was. His hair was still thick and black, cut in a
casual style that was just barely short enough to be acceptable in
the business world. His eyebrows were thick and dark, too, and his
complexion had a robust golden glow. His burnished coloring created
a startling contrast with his eyes, which were an unexpectedly
clear light blue. He had a strong chin, a straight nose and teeth
as white and even as an orthodontist could dream of. But it was
those piercing blue eyes that Daphne kept returning to, eyes much
too beautiful to belong to a man.
    He had always been handsome. But
back in school, Daphne had never really considered him her type.
He’d been good looking the way a movie star might be: the kind of
good looking about which, as Phyllis used to say, “You wouldn’t
kick him out for eating crackers in bed.” Brad Torrance was someone
whose appearance Daphne had admired from a distance, someone whose
attention she’d never bothered trying to attract. He was Eric’s
friend and she was Andrea’s, so their paths were bound to cross
every once in a while. But when it came to getting crushes, Daphne
preferred to keep her fantasies well within the realm of the
possible.
    He must have been surprised