Windfall Page 0,86

apparently, with lots of agitated chopping of mushrooms and onions and peppers. Ham had already suffered the same fate.

When I came into the room, she pointed the chef's knife at me and said, "You."

"I surrender. I throw myself on your mercy. Please don't mince me," I said, and sat down at the table. There was a pitcher of orange juice out, so I helped myself to a glass. Tart and pulpy, just the way I liked it. I sipped liquid sunshine and waited for the storm to break as Sarah went back to her chopping.

And waited. And waited. She just kept chopping. Finally, I ventured, "So you're mad, then."

"Oh, you think?"

"Look, Lewis needed a place to stay for the night. It was late. I didn't want to wake you-"

"Yes, all very logical, but you're not the one who wandered out here naked and got ogled by that-lecher!"

"Lewis?" I blinked in surprise. Not that Lewis wouldn't ogle-he was a guy, after all, and highly aware of women-but he was usually a lot more subtle about it.

"No, not him. The other one. The kid."

Oh. Kevin. Of course. "Um, right. Sorry about that. Don't take it personally. He's a teenager. He's constitutionally lecherous." I edited out the response that began, If you weren't so focused on shagging Cute British Guy, you might have thrown on a robe, and damn, I'll bet it was funny... "Are you really mad?"

The chopping paused for three long seconds, then resumed at a slower pace. "No," she admitted. "I'm embarrassed. First of all, Eamon and I-well, we got carried away. I mean, it was rude of us to stay here, in your home, and-do-what we did. I don't know what came over me. I'm usually a lot more reserved than that."

"Hey, I wasn't even here. Unless you got carried away and had incredible sex in my bed or something..." Oh, man, I didn't like that silence. "Sarah? Tell me it wasn't in my bed?"

"Just the once," she murmured.

I'd thought it looked more than usually rumpled when I came back, but I'd been exhausted and traumatized and distracted.

"I think that makes it a dead heat on insensitivity," I said. "Speaking of which, thanks for asking me how work went. I got fired this morning. No more Weather Girl."

"What?" she blurted. "But-how are we going to pay the bills?"

Typical Sarah. Not, Oh my God, that's awful, are you okay? I eyed the feast she was cooking up. "Well, I did get a decent severance check, mostly because they were afraid I'd sue, given the bikini-snapping by a senior staff member. But I think we'll have to economize on the haute cuisine. And the couture is right out. Also, anything else with French derivations."

A quiet cough from the door. Eamon was standing there, looking sober and remarkably self-possessed for a guy who'd appropriated my bed for illicit purposes. "I know you don't want charity, but I'd be more than willing to offer a loan. Purely to tide you over until you find something else. No strings attached."

Sarah's face lit up. Eamon, however, was watching me. Very wise of him.

"No," I said. "Thanks. It's a nice offer, but honestly, I can't accept it. We'll just figure it out for ourselves." I didn't want Sarah to jump from being taken care of by Chretien to being taken care of by Eamon. Especially since she barely knew him, for God's sake. Not that I disliked him-in fact, I thought he was pretty cool-but the pattern bugged me. "Okay, Sarah?"

More agitated chopping. No answer. I sighed and sipped orange juice.

"Were you fired because you were right and that idiot with the hair problem was wrong?" Eamon asked.

"No," I said. "I was fired because I was right while I was on camera. Plus, I wouldn't let him snap my swimsuit with impunity."

Sarah laughed. Eamon didn't. He just watched me with those cool, quiet eyes, as if he understood everything.

"Good for you," he said. "You deserve better than that. I heard you give the forecast. It was very clear you deserved his job, at the very least. I doubt they could ever afford your talents, if they understood what you were worth."

He wasn't delivering that in a tone of flattery, or admiration-just a dry, brisk, undramatic statement of fact.

I exchanged a look with my sister. She smiled.

"See?" she asked.

I