“Exactly.”

“I’m not following your logic.”

“That’s because I’m an artist and you’re a lawyer.”

“I see.”

He didn’t see. He was being patronizing. The rat.

“I give a tea,” she said, getting haughty right back at him. “I influence some pivotal people, turn the tide on this music festival, the opera house, the whole tourism thing, and Indigo stays exactly the same as it always was, protecting my lifestyle.”

Her family would come around someday.

Maybe.

Then again, maybe not.

Anthony’s voice turned patient. “And you don’t think your fans coming to Indigo might have an impact on your lifestyle?”

“Why would my readers come to Indigo?”

Anthony was silent until she looked up.

“To see you, Joan.” He looked completely serious.

But that was ridiculous. She wasn’t a movie star. Nobody was coming to Indigo to see her.

Her problem was her parents and the bondage scene. Her pen slipped again. And these stupid invitations she kept ruining.

CHAPTER TWO

THERE WAS NO WAY in hell Anthony was letting Joan run around town to deliver tea invitations. She had to stay inside the house until they gauged the press’s reaction to her identity. Not that he wouldn’t make use of reporters. He just wanted to control the time and place.

“I’ll deliver them for you,” he said, reaching for the neat stack of envelopes in her hand. “Just give me the addresses.” He wasn’t wild about leaving her here alone, but it was the lesser of two evils.

She snapped them out of his reach and gestured to her front window. “Do you see a crowd forming out there? Do you?”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not in town.”

Joan shook her head. “I’m going upstairs to change now. Then I’m delivering my invitations personally.”

“Denial’s not going to help,” he told her.

“Neither is panic.”