For Services Rendered by Patricia Kay Page B

fished out her keys, handing them to him. Then she walked toward the building.
    "Claire, wait a minute."
    She stopped but she didn't turn around. In a moment, Nick was at her side. She looked straight ahead. Several pedestrians cut a swath around them.
    "Let's move off the sidewalk," Nick said. He took her elbow and she allowed him to lead her up the stone steps. They stopped at the top.
    Claire couldn't keep staring over his shoulder. She finally looked up. He smiled and her heart flip-flopped.
    "Did you think about what I said?" His voice was low, intimate. His eyes were sparkling ocean-blue in the bright sunlight.
    "Yes, I thought about it. My answer is still no." She raised her chin. "And no matter how many times you ask me, it won't change."
    He smiled again and his eyes danced with amusement. "There's nothing I like better than a challenge, you know."
    Claire swallowed. Something was jumping around in her stomach.
    "The more stubborn an adversary, the more determined I am to win," he continued softly.
    "You're very sure of yourself, aren't you? You really think I'm going to jump just because you whistled."
    Their eyes locked.
    "I'm sure of myself when I know I'm right."
    "You're not right about this."
    "We'll see."
    Oh, he was infuriating. Claire wished she could think of something really snappy to say. A perfect put-down. Unfortunately, everything she thought of would make her sound juvenile. Knowing it was inadequate, she said, "Don't hold your breath." Then she brushed past him, pushed herself through the revolving door, and walked to her bank of elevators without looking back.
     
    * * *
     
    "Claire, if you're going to apply to State, you'd better get your application in. There's a waiting list," Amy warned.
    It was two days after Claire's return to Houston—a Friday night—and she was standing outside the door to her mother's room while she talked with Amy Provost about her problem. "I just can't let my mother go to State, Amy."
    "But what else can you do?"
    Claire leaned her head against the wall. "I don't know," she said hopelessly. The trouble was, she had no choices. Nothing had changed. She still couldn't see any way out of her dilemma.
There's a way out. You just don't want to take it,
her inner voice chided. She shook the thought out of her mind. She would not marry Nick Callahan simply to insure her mother's future. She couldn't.
    All the way home, her thoughts churned. She didn't sleep well that night. The next morning, in an effort to forget her problems for at least a little while, she decided to take a long walk. The weather looked beautiful—another clear, cold day. She put on a pair of sweats and her Reeboks, tied her hair back in a pony-tail, and found her earmuffs. Just as she was about to leave the apartment, the telephone rang.
    Claire didn't own an answering machine. It wasn't a necessity, so she couldn't justify spending the money. She thought about ignoring the insistent ring, but couldn't. What if it were something important?
    "Hello?" she said.
    "Claire?"
    She'd have recognized his voice anywhere. "Hello, Nick," she said coolly. She ignored the thump, thump, thump of her foolish heart.
    "Is this a bad time to call?"
    "Yes, it is. I was just on my way out the door."
    "Well, in that case, I won't keep you long. I just wondered if you'd like to accompany me to the symphony tonight. It's an all-Mozart program called 'Mostly Mozart.' Do you like Mozart?"
    Claire loved Mozart. And symphony tickets weren't necessities either. "Thank you, but I don't think so," she said.
    "That's too bad. I thought after the symphony we might have a late supper at Harry's Kenya. But if you can't—"
    "I didn't say I couldn't. I said I didn't think so."
    He chuckled. "Still mad, I see."
    "I'm not mad," she said, getting madder by the minute. He certainly could use knocking down a peg or two. But the warm, resonant sound of the chuckle sent quicksilver through her veins and caused her pulse rate to