Inner Harbor by Nora Roberts Page B

you.”
    â€œCan you expect it to do otherwise? Your sister has chosen her own life and is no longer a part of mine. I will not be dragged into this.”
    â€œI have no intention of dragging you into this.” Resigned, Sybill reached into her purse and found the small cloisonné box she used to store aspirin. “No one knows who I am. And even if I’m connected to Dr. and Mrs. Walter Griffin, that hardly follows to Gloria and Seth DeLauter.”
    â€œIt can be followed, if anyone becomes interested enough to pursue it. You can’t accomplish anything by staying there and interfering in this situation, Sybill. I want you to leave. Go back to New York, or come here to Paris. Perhaps you’ll listen to your father if not to me.”
    Sybill washed down the aspirin with water, then dug out antacids. “I’m going to see this through. I’m sorry.”
    There was a long silence ripe with temper and frustration. Sybill closed her eyes, left them closed, and waited.
    â€œYou were always a joy to me. I never expected this kind of betrayal. I very much regret that I spoke with you about this matter. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would react so outrageously.”
    â€œHe’s a ten-year-old boy, Mother. He’s your grandson.”
    â€œHe is nothing to me, or to you. If you continue this, Gloria will make you pay for what you see as kindness.”
    â€œI can handle Gloria.”
    There was a laugh now, short and brittle as glass. “So you always believed. And you were always wrong. Please don’t contact me, or your father, about any of this. I’ll expect to hear from you when you’ve come to your senses.”
    â€œMother—” The dial tone made Sybill wince. Barbara Griffin was a master at having the last word. Very carefully, Sybill set the receiver on the hook. Very deliberately, she swallowed the antacid.
    Then, very defiantly, she turned back to her screen and buried herself in work.

F IVE
    S INCE SYBILL WAS always on time and nearly everyone else in the world, as far as she was concerned, never was, she was surprised to find Phillip already sitting at the table he’d reserved for dinner.
    He rose, offered her a killer smile and a single yellow rose. Both charmed her and made her suspicious.
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œMy pleasure. Sincerely. You look wonderful.”
    She’d gone to some trouble in that area, but more for herself than for him. The call from her mother had left her miserably depressed and guilty. She’d tried to fight off both emotions by taking a great deal of time and putting a great deal of effort into her appearance.
    The simple black dress with its square neck and long, snug sleeves was one of her favorites. The single strand of pearls was a legacy from her paternal grandmother and much loved. She’d swept her hair up in a smooth twist and added sapphire cabochon earrings that she’d bought in London years before.
    She knew it was the sort of feminine armor that women slipped into for confidence and power. She’d wanted both.“Thank you again.” She slid into the booth across from him and sniffed the rose. “And so do you.”
    â€œI know the wine list here,” he told her. “Trust me?”
    â€œOn wine? Why not?”
    â€œGood.” He glanced toward the server. “We’ll have a bottle of the number 103.”
    She laid the rose beside the leather-bound menu. “Which is?”
    â€œA very nice Pouilly Fuisse. I remember from Shiney’s that you like white. I think you’ll find this a few very important steps up from what you had there.”
    â€œAlmost anything would be.”
    He cocked his head, took her hand. “Something’s wrong.”
    â€œNo.” Deliberately she curved her lips. “What could be wrong? It’s just as advertised.” She turned her head to look out the window beside her, where the Bay