Moonlight Masquerade by Jude Deveraux

happened on the highway.
    â€œYou nearly ran over her,” Russell said.
    â€œI did no such thing.”
    â€œYes, you did,” Russ said. “You came around that long curve, the one five miles east of the tavern, and you were looking down at your papers. The poor girl had to dive into the scrub oaks to keep from being hit.”
    â€œGod!” Reede whispered.
    â€œYou have the right person,” Russell said. “He must have been looking after both of you.”
    â€œThe crunch under my tire . . . ?”
    â€œHer phone. And she had something in an envelope too. You ran over it.”
    â€œAnd all she did was dump beer over my head,” Reede said. “A shotgun would have been more appropriate. You don’t have her name and address, do you? I’d like to send her my apologies—and a new phone.” That’s when Russell said he had to go.
    Reede sat down in the big leather chair and closed his eyes for a moment. When it came to women he didn’t seem able to do anything right. He’d had two serious relationships since Laura, and they’d both—
    He ran his hands over his face. This wasn’t the time for more wallowing in self-pity. No wonder he felt better when he was swinging from a cable out of a helicopter. Angry oceans were easier to understand than women.
    So what was he going to do now? The best thing, the most honorable action, would be to meet Sophie at the door and try to explain himself.
    And just how would he do that? Play on her sympathy? Talk of his lack of sleep? Say that he’s such a busy doctor that he has to read files while he’s driving?
    There was no way she’d forgive him—and she shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve it.
    But then, what would be the result of his doing the right thing? At the end of today there’d be no delicious cooked food, the bills would still be waiting for him to pay, and worst of all, there’d be no one to talk to tonight.
    Talk, he thought and sat up straighter in the chair. He could still talk to her. If she didn’t see him, that is,and if some blabbermouth in Edilean didn’t run to tell Sophie who had nearly killed her.
    He knew that if he spent another ten seconds thinking about this utterly ridiculous, absurd idea that he’d come to his senses. He’d back out. He’d do the heroic thing and wait for Sophie to show up and he’d take the consequences. He’d be a good employer and write her a severance check, and—Oh hell!
    He practically ran to the front office. It was fifteen minutes to nine. “Don’t tell her,” he said to the staring women. “And don’t let anyone else in this town tell her. I need time to . . . to . . . ” He couldn’t think what he was going to do. “Got it?”
    They silently nodded in unison and Reede ran out the back door. He had to get his infamous car out of the parking lot before Sophie arrived. His first stop this morning would be Frazier Motors in Richmond to see if he could get a loaner for a while. The BMW would have too many bad memories for Sophie. As he drove he couldn’t help but wish he’d listened to his sister when she’d told him about her roommates. Maybe she’d know of a way to appease Sophie.
    But first he had to call his mother and get the gossip line started—or rather stopped. He called her by using the hands-free phone—no more looking down to punch in numbers while driving! “Mom?” he said when she answered.
    â€œWell, well, if it isn’t the Beer Boy of Edilean.”
    Reede grimaced and wished he were back in Namibia, but he said nothing. It was better to let her get it out of her system.
    â€œKim said her friend Sophie wouldn’t last long withyou,” Ellen Aldredge said. “Between your bad temper and your attempt at murdering the poor girl, Kim was more right than even she imagined. So what