Barbara Delinsky - Commitments.pdf

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Commitments
by
BARBARA DELINSKY
`;07.'
 
By the same author
Twilight Whispers Heart of the Night
BARBARA DELINSKY
Commitments
v v .- -I"
 
To Steve, Eric, Andrew and Jeremy - always.
This edition published 1995 by Diamond Books
77-85 Fulham Palace Road Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
Published by Grafton Books in 1990 by arrangement with Warner Books, Inc., New York
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
ISBN: 0- 261667114
Set in Trump Mediaeval
Printed in Great Britain
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopyin& recording or otherwise,
without the prior permission of the publishers.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold,
hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being
unposed on the subsequent purchaser
 
Prologue.
Derek Mcgill wasn't a man to waver. Once he set his mind to something,
he saw it through. The industry knew him to be dogged and shrew,
self-righteous, even bull-headed when an issue hit him hard. Unanswered
phone calls and untold runarounds, veiled hostility and unveiled threats
- all were part of the game. He was used to them; they never stalled him
long. , Yet, on the threshold of the rooftop patio, he paused. Granted,
the rooms he'd passed through were posh, but held seen more lavish rooms
in his day. The patio itself, an oasis high above the concrete maze of
Manhattan, was. idyllic, but he'd seen his share of makeshift Edens, too.
His hesitation didn't come from the luxury of the Fifth Avenue
-apartment or the greenery of its terrace. Rather, he was drawn up short
by the woman standing with her back to him not far from the waist-high
brick wall which lined the terrace. She was of medium height and
slender. A soft whiteblouse cascaded gently from her shoulders,
overlapping an equally lightweight gauze skirt that -veiled her in lilac
from hip to mid-calf . Barefoot and oblivious to his arrival, she swayed
ever so slowly from side to side. The late afternoon sun, tripping over
the treetops of Central Park, gilded her blond hair and that of the
small child she held in her arms, her head resting on his. He wasn't
sure what he'd expected - not that held had an awful lot of time to
dwell on it, given his schedule, But he supposed he'd assumed this woman
to be a slick city type surrounded by defenses as heavy as her Giorgio.
He'd been wrong. She was younger than he'd expected for one thing, and
there was nothing slick about her. As for defenses, his radar couldn't
detect any. He almost felt as though he should have brought some along
for her use. There was something awe-inspiring about Sabrina Stone as
she stood in her private garden high above the city. He found himself
thinking of the Madonna. With her hair loosely caught into a short, high
ponytail from which stray tendrils had escaped to graze her cheeks and
neck, she looked utterly unpretentious. He conjured up images of purity
and goodness, both incongruous with the world around her as he knew it.
Her husband was a high roller in the game of investment banking. She
herself was from a wildly successful literary family. Still, she seemed
the personification of innocence, a flower child lost and alone,
clinging to the one thing she cherished above all else in life. She
seemed serene. Perhaps that was what, more than anything, brought Derek
to a standstill. He knew that she couldn't truly be serene, given her
lot in life. Yet, the picture she presented was that, and he envied it.
His own life was a rat race, a nonstop quest for the story to top all
others. If he wasn't on the phone with sources or haggling with
producers or assistant producers or researchers for information he
needed yesterday, he was justifying his position with management or
hustling for a final scoop in an eleventh-hour rush to meet the cameras.
The sight of Sabrina Stone made him pause, take a deep breath, and
 
release it slowly and with something surprisingly akin to relief. Over
the dim clang and whir of traffic that drifted from far below, he caught
bits and fragments of a tune. She was humming a song as she rocked the
child. He couldn't identify it, but it didn't matter. The effect was the
same, a tableau of warmth and love that touched him in strange
unexpected ways. He was an intruder. He knew that, but he couldn't have
left if he tried, and he wouldn't have tried for the world. Having set
eyes on her, his curiosity was piqued. He reminded himself that this was
just another story, but deep down inside, he suspected more complex
forces drew him forward. His shoes made a muted tap on the marble tiles
as he crossed the terrace, but she seemed not to hear. Lost in that tiny
world encompassing her baby and her, she neither looked up nor turned.
When he was within reaching distance, he stopped. '. Stone?' Her head
flew around then, eyes wide and startled. ''m sorry/ he said with an
odd gentleness, ' didn't mean to frighten you.' For a minute she said
nothin& simply looked at him, studying his eyes as though they could
tell her what she wanted or needed to know. ' are you? I she said at
last. ' Mcgill." She continued to study him. One of her brows
lowered for the briefest instant in a frown she quickly mastered. '
does that sound familiar?' ''m a reporter with Outside Insight. You may
have seen some of my work.' She lowered her chin to the child's head,
and he could have sworn that her arms tightened fractionally. Both
gestures suggested protectiveness. He could understand that. ' did
you get in? I Her voice held wariness, while her eyes held his. Their
hold was strong. He'd never seen eyes quite like them, though he doubted
it had as much to do with their pale green coloring as with the blend of
emotions they betrayed. Among other things, he saw fear; and while he'd
have been delighted to see that if he were confronting a bureaucrat with
allegations of corruption, he regretted seeing it in Sabrina Stone. So
he said without pride, ' tagged along with three fellows who were
visiting one of the other apartments. That took care of the doorman.
Your maid was satisfied when I said that we were old friends and you
were expecting me.' ' wasn't true.' ' know. But I wanted to speak
with you. I've tried to call several times. Your husband is protective
of your privacy.' ''ve spoken with him?' Derek caught sight of a
small, almost imperceptible tic in the delicate skin beneath her left
eye. It was the kind that came from being overtired,, or overwrought. He
suspected that with Sabrina it was the latter. ' haven't spoken with
him directly. He never returned my calls, but eventually he left a
message that if I tried to reach him again, he'd call the president of
the network., A flicker of hardness passed through her eyes, and she
nodded. Derek gave a lopsided smile. ''d do that?, '.' She paused.
The hardness was gone, replaced by a hint of a plea, though her voice
was as soft and controlled as ever. ' do you want?' ' to talk."
His gaze dropped to the child's curls. As he viewed them closer now and
from a different 10 angle,- he could see that they were more light brown
than blond. ' he sleeping? I he asked, leaning sideways to see the
child's face. One view gave him his answer. The child's large brown eyes
 

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