The Color of Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

Derian rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “I didn’t
know she was sick. We haven’t talked in a while.”
    “I’m not sure she was aware either. I think
she might have told me, had she known.”
    “You’re close, then—I mean, friends?” Derian
tried to pinpoint the last time she and Henrietta had done more than exchange a
quick email. Last year before the race in Sochi? Time blurred, a repetitive
loop of hotels, soirées, and meaningless
conversations. Henrietta was the only person she ever really opened up to, and
she hadn’t done that in a very long time. If she had, she’d have to put words
to things she didn’t want to own.
    “I think we are,” Emily said softly. “She
means the world to me—of course, we’re not fami—”
    Derian scoffed. “Family is an overrated
concept. I’m glad you were with her. And I’m glad she has you.”
    “You must’ve broken some kind of record
getting here—weren’t you somewhere in Europe?”
    Emily gripped her forearm, an unexpectedly
comforting sensation. Derian regarded her curiously. “How did you know?”
    Emily wasn’t about to confess that she often
followed celebrity news, mostly for entertainment and relaxation to break the
rigors of the concentrated work of screening manuscripts and studying
production layouts. Whenever Derian Winfield was mentioned, usually accompanied
by a photo of her with a race car or some glamorous woman, she took note. She’d
always thought Henrietta’s niece was attractive, but the glossy photos hadn’t
captured the shadows that swirled in the depths of her eyes or the sadness that
undercut the sharp edges of her words. “Perhaps Henrietta mentioned it.
Somewhere in Europe, wasn’t it?”
    “That’s right. Fortunately, I had access to a
plane.” Derian winced and took stock of her appearance. “Although I look somewhat
like a street person at the moment.”
    “No,” Emily said with a faint laugh. “You
most certainly do not. You do look tired, though.”
    Derian touched a finger beneath Emily’s chin
and tilted her head up. “And you look beyond tired. How long have you been
here?”
    Emily stilled, the unfamiliar touch of
Derian’s hand streaking through her with the oddest blaze of heat and light.
She’d never realized tactile sensations could be in Technicolor. “I’ve been
here since Henrietta arrived. I rode in the ambulance. The EMTs were kind
enough to let me.”
    Derian frowned. Realizing after an instant
she still cradled Emily’s face, she brushed her thumb gently over the tip of
her chin before drawing away. “Then I’m in your debt. As soon as I’ve seen her,
I’m taking you to get something to eat.”
    “Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m sure you’ll
want to get together with your family.”
    “No, that would be the last thing I want to
do.” Derian glanced toward the hall in the direction of the intensive care
unit. “The only member of my family I care about is in there.” She glanced back
at Emily. “You and I share that, I think.”
    “Henrietta is easy to care about.”
    “You see, I told you, you were diplomatic.”
Derian smiled. “Henrietta is a hard-ass, but she knows people. And when she
cares about you, she’s always on your side. If you’ve survived this long with
her, you’re tougher than you look.”
    Emily ought to have been insulted, but she
laughed. She didn’t hear criticism in Derian’s voice and imagined there might
actually have been a hint of respect there. “I’ll have you know, I’m plenty
tough.”
    “Then you’ll be tough enough to wait until
I’ve seen her. Agreed?”
    “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
    “I’m glad Henrietta has you. She deserves
someone like you at her side.”
    Emily found the statement odd and Derian’s
voice surprisingly wistful. All she knew of Henrietta’s niece was that she was
often referred to with raised eyebrows among the agency’s staff and had never
taken any interest in the business. The press made