"You can't make that happen, can you?" Margaret Kinger asked.

Lily frowned. "Shift his focus?"

"No, make a celebrity sleep with his sister-in-law."

She smiled. "I'm good, but not that good. But there should be a way to keep Brian Quinn distracted." Lily quickly evaluated her options. "We could… mislead him. Make it so he's not sure which sources to believe and which to discredit. It will be difficult for him to track down the truth that he might not have time to get the story straight."

"That's a great idea," John Kostryki said. "We can plant some false leads. And then, if he's lazy and reports them without checking his sources, we've got him. His reputation as a reporter in this town will be ruined."

Lily hesitated. She shouldn't have any qualms about hitting Brian Quinn right where it hurt-in his reputation. Still, she didn't want to completely ruin him, she just wanted to keep him busy for a while, until all the furor died down. "That's a possibility," she said.

"We could catch him in a compromising situation," Allison Petrie suggested.

"I hear he has quite a reputation with the ladies," Margaret said. "If we catch him with the wrong kind of woman that might cause him to lie low for a while."

Lily found that idea downright distasteful. Plus, she couldn't ignore the current of jealousy that shot through her at the thought of Brian with another woman-especially some sexy harlot with big breasts and the appetites of a nymphomaniac. "We can consider that."

"You know, he has a record," Derrick said.

"He was a singer?" Lily asked. "Now that might be something. I mean, if he imagined himself some kind of rock star and he was really awful, we could get his record played on the local radio stations. That would be really embarrassing."

"Not that kind of record," Derrick said. "A criminal record."

Lily gasped. "Brian Quinn has a criminal record? How do you know that?"

"Mr. Patterson had him investigated after he reported on building code violations on the Minuteman Mall project."

"I read the report," Lily said. "I didn't notice any mention of a criminal record."

Margaret held out a file folder. "This is the latest report from the investigator. It came in this morning and Quinn's got a whole history with the police. They way it looks, the only reason he isn't in jail right now is that his brother is a cop."

"Did you know that Quinn actually had the nerve to crash the benefit that Richard Patterson sponsored last weekend?" Allison asked. "A whole bunch of people saw him there."

Lily snatched the folder up. "From now on, I'd like to be the first person to see the reports from the investigator. Margaret, you make sure that happens. We'll meet again tomorrow morning. I want to brainstorm a few more options."

She opened the folder and quickly scanned the report. There was a complete background piece on Brian's childhood. "We-we can use this," she murmured. Lily glanced up at the four expectant faces staring at her. They were looking to her to take the lead, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Not yet. "We'll meet again tomorrow morning. I need time to look this over."

When Lily got back to her office, she didn't go inside. She wandered over to her assistant's desk and picked up her messages, then flipped through them. There were two from Brian, one with a number she recognized as the station's and the other listed as his cell phone.

"I think he might be calling for a quote," Marie said. Lily crumpled them up and tossed them both in a nearby trash can. She meant what she'd said! They were virtual enemies on opposite sides of an issue. And she would not put herself in a position to be seduced by the enemy again.

Lily slipped the investigator's report inside her bag. "I'm going to get some lunch," she said to her assistant. "And then maybe I'll walk over to the park. If Brian Quinn calls again tell him that I have nothing to say to him." She paused. "No, just tell him that I'd appreciate it if he'd stop calling. No, wait, don't say that." She shook her head. "Don't say anything. Just take a message."

As she walked out to the elevator, she couldn't contain her curiosity. The report, like the first one she'd examined, was neatly typed and meticulously researched. But this report focused more on Brian's personal life than his professional one.

The elevator opened and Lily stepped inside, joining a crowd of workers on the way down for their lunch hour. When she finally reached the lobby, she hurried outside, into a rush of pedestrians marching down the sidewalk. An unbidden surge of loneliness washed over her, as stifling as the warm, humid air.

Every day she spent in Boston, Lily was reminded that she was a stranger in this town. She had no friends, no one she could confide in, no one who might sympathize with her problems. The only person she felt close to was Brian Quinn and now she'd resolved to put him out of her life for good.

Lily sighed and walked toward the park at Post Office Square, a pretty little oasis in the midst of skyscrapers. When she reached the park, she headed right for the glass fountain and found a grassy spot nearby where she could listen to the soothing sound of water.

She spread the folder on her lap and picked up the report, skimming through it to find mention of the fund-raiser. "According to several guests," she read out loud, "Brian Quinn attended the fund-raiser sponsored by Richard Patterson, held at the Copley Plaza Hotel on Saturday, June 14. He entered without a ticket and was seen dancing with a red-haired woman in a gold dress, her identity unknown to other guests."

Lily took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. There was no mention of what Brian had done after he danced with her, nothing about them leaving together or having sex in the back of her limo. Relieved, Lily flipped back to the first part of the report and began to read. The detective had done a thorough job of describing a rather difficult childhood.

Lily read about Brian's fisherman father and his missing mother, about the difficulties in their home on Kilgore Street in South Boston, the older brother who took care of five younger siblings before becoming a cop. Another brother had become a fireman. "Conor and Dylan," she murmured. "Brendan the writer. Sean is a… private investigator." She frowned. And the youngest brother, Liam, was a freelance photographer. There was also a sister, but Lily skimmed over details of a complex history.

So far, she hadn't found anything that could be used against him. It wasn't a crime to have a bad childhood, an absent father and a mother who deserted the family when he was only three. But then she moved onto the next paragraph and she stopped. "Brian Quinn has several juvenile offences on his record including miscellaneous charges of shoplifting, vandalism, and petty theft. There is proof of an auto theft at age fifteen, but his older brother, Conor, then a rookie cop, convinced the owner to drop the charges." Grand theft auto. Now there was something that his bosses at the station probably didn't know about.

Was she willing to drag his past out into the light? Lily had been forced to play dirty on occasion, but she'd never deliberately hurt another person. And giving the public this information might seriously affect Brian's career. "Knowing his luck, it would raise his popularity," Lily muttered.

Lily lay back on the grass and covered her face with the report, blocking out the sun. She needed to relax and put all her cares and worries aside for a few minutes. Her thoughts drifted, the sound of the fountain in the background soothing her mind. But the images that filled her head weren't of pretty waterfalls and swaying trees. Instead, she saw naked bodies and disheveled clothes, historic scenery passing outside tinted windows. This time, she didn't brush the images aside, but let them linger.

"Imagine my luck."

The voice came out of nowhere and at first, Lily thought it was part of her daydream. But then she realized that she'd dozed off, right in the middle of the park. She slowly lowered the report to find a tall figure standing over her. Though the sun was behind him and she couldn't see his face, she knew who it was. She pushed up, setting the report behind her. "I don't think this has anything to do with luck. I think I must be cursed."

"You, too?" Brian asked. "I guess we have one thing in common."

She glanced up at him and watched his gaze slowly drift from her face to her feet. She wore a business suit, hardly a sexy outfit. But then Lily noticed that her silk blouse gaped open in the front and her skirt was bunched up on her thighs. She quickly rearranged her clothes only to catch him grinning at her.

"May I sit down?" he asked.

Lily braced her hands behind her, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. Why did he have to be so charming? Even dressed as she was, he made her feel like the sexiest woman on the planet. "No. But you can continue standing there. I forgot my sunscreen and you're providing shade."

"When I was a kid, I dreamed about a career as a tree," he said, sitting down beside her. He set a paper bag on her lap.

"What's this?" Lily asked.

"Lunch. I called your office and your assistant told me that you were probably in the park."

Lily gasped. "She told you where to find me?"

He nodded. "Right after I told her I was an old friend from college, here in Boston on business. I also told her what a lovely voice she had and that Marie was my favorite name. Hey, I have picked up a few valuable skills as an investigative reporter."

"I still can't believe she did that." Lily tossed the bag back in his direction and got up, tucking the report under her arm before he had a chance to see it. "I have to go." She hurried toward the sidewalk, then glanced back at, to find him smiling at her.