The Doll Brokers Read Free Page B

silver.”
    The look on Patrick’s face, the smell of his sour breath, had been so ugly, that after a few minutes of forced gaiety, with face flushed, stomach churning, she had literally run up the stairs to be sick. No one could have possibly suspected the reason behind her retreat. But just as she arrived at the bathroom door, Jonathan stepped out. Ann had practically crashed into him in her frenzied rush to get inside. He hadn’t moved fast enough and, face to face, she had spewed all over him.
    Ann jerked herself back to the present. She wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was thirty-three.
    â€œI don’t like the name,” she said flatly and suddenly. “Felicia wants to call her Baby Talk N Glow. It sounds seventies to me. Too pedestrian. But I guess we’ll just have to hope that she’s unique enough to overcome the shaky moniker.”
    Jonathan’s eyes narrowed as he realized that she was talking about the doll. “Go on.”
    â€œI’ve run the numbers in every imaginable way, starting with sales of a million pieces and regressing down to five hundred thousand.” Her breath felt short. She didn’t want to believe it could come to that. “I think I’ve accounted for every possible contingency.”
    â€œTo protect your own salary, I’m sure.”
    She felt it as a slap in the face but chose to ignore the comment.Her stomach twisted and she raised the glass of Scotch to her lips, then continued. “On the one hand, dolls are comparatively safe. They account for volume of over two billion dollars in the United States alone. On the other hand, we could still end up in trouble because of the enormous risk. One glitch with this product, one misstep with the marketing plan…”
    â€œThen take a pass.”
    His comment hardened her spine. “No. Felicia wants her. And there are eight or ten other companies who will snatch her up if we don’t.”
    He leaned back on his stool. “What’s in it for you?”
    Ann fought to breathe. She reached for her briefcase. “Your time’s up, Jonathan. I’ve got better things to do with mine.”
    â€œJust know, I’ll be watching.”
    â€œSpare yourself the trouble,” she said as she stepped down from the bar, lost her footing, and practically fell into his arms.
    He went to steady her.
    She pulled herself upright, turned abruptly and walked away. “Good night, Jonathan,” she called over her shoulder.
    He watched her leave, thinking that she didn’t move so much as cleave through space.
    She’d played her own part in his younger brother’s death, Jonathan thought. He would not let Ann hurt Felicia again. He couldn’t explain the bad feeling he had about this doll, but Ann’s influence over his mother in her weakened state could not be overlooked. And neither could the possibility that the cancer had impaired Felicia’s judgment. Jonathan had a fierce need to protect his mother. No matter what the personal cost, he would put his own life on hold and watch Ann like a hawk. He’d stick to her until he finally understood everything. And when he got to that place, perhaps then this absurd fascination with her that had plagued him for years, would finally disappear.

CHAPTER 3
    A nn dropped the knocker against Felicia’s apartment door and it swung inward, giving way to an imperial foyer lined with large oil paintings of country landscapes. Beyond was a spacious parlor, now bustling with visitors.
    Patrick Morhardt greeted her. Once, long ago, he had been an attractive man. As blond as his brother was dark, as suave as Jonathan was brooding, over the years his physique hadn’t so much softened as it had relaxed. Today, at thirty-nine, gravity tugged gently at his skin. Time—and probably more alcohol than Ann could even begin to imagine—had leeched much of the life from his brown eyes.
    â€œHail the conquering