"By backing down and doing nothing." He poked his finger against her shoulder. "By going into denial. Well, it's gone on long enough. Bittle and company know that they're facing legal action."
"Legal action?" The blood drained out of her face. She could feel every drop flow. "You told them I was going to sue? Oh, my God." Dizzy, she leaned on the desk.
"Hey!" He grabbed her in alarm. "Sit down. Catch your breath."
"Leave me alone. Leave me the hell alone. What have you done?"
"What needed to be done. Now come on, honey, sit down."
"Jesus Christ." She exploded, and rather than a poke on his shoulder, she landed a punch on it. "How dare you?" Her color was back, flaming. "How dare you threaten legal action?"
"I didn't tell them you were going to sue. I merely left them chewing over that impression."
"I told you to leave it. This is my business. Mine." She threw up her arms, spun around. "What gave you this brainstorm, Joshua? I'm going to kill Margo."
"Margo didn't have anything to do with it, though if you would open your beady eyes for five minutes, you'd see how worried she is about you. How worried everyone is."
Because he might poke her again, he decided his hands were safer in his pockets. "I shouldn't have let it go this long, but I've had things on my mind. If By hadn't dropped by and given me a push, it would have taken me longer, but I'd have gotten to it."
"Stop." Breathing hard, she held up a hand. "Playback. Byron De Witt talked to you about me?"
Realizing his misstep, Josh tried a quick retreat. "Your name came up in conversation, that's all. And it started me—"
"My name came up." Now she was breathing between clenched teeth—teeth that matched the fists ready at her sides. Anger was better, she realized, than panic. "Oh, I just bet it did. That son of a bitch. I should have known he couldn't keep his mouth shut."
"About what?"
"Don't try to cover up. And get out of my way." Her shove was fierce enough and unexpected enough to knock him back. Before he could make the grab, she was sailing past him.
"Just a damn minute. I haven't finished."
"You go to hell," she shot back over her shoulder, causing several customers to glance around nervously as she stormed out of the office. She sent Margo one seething glare before slamming the front door behind her.
"Well." Struggling with a smile, Margo handed a bagged purchase to a wide-eyed customer. "That's thirty-eight fifty-three out of forty." Still smiling, she handed over the change. "And the show was free. Please come again."
With the wariness of a man who understood trouble when it stared at him from sultry blue eyes, Josh approached the counter. "Sorry about that."
"We'll deal with sorry later," she said under her breath. "What did you do to upset her?"
Just like a woman, he thought, to take the woman's side. "I tried to help her."
"You know how she hates that. Why, instead of taking your head off, did she storm out of here looking like she was going to take someone else's head off?"
He sighed, scratched his chin, shuffled his feet. "She'd finished taking my head off. Now she's going for Byron's. He sort of suggested that I help her."
Margo tapped coral-tipped nails on the glass counter. "I see."
"I really ought to call him, give him some advance warning." But when Josh reached for the phone on the counter, Margo laid a firm hand over his.
"Oh, no. I don't think so. We wouldn't want to spoil Kate's advantage."
"Margo, it's only fair."
"Fair has nothing to do with it. And you're going to be too busy waiting on customers to make personal calls."
Now he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Duchess, I've got a meeting in a couple of hours. I don't have time to help you out around here."
"Thanks to you, I'm shorthanded." Knowing that that wouldn't get her very far, she let her shoulders slump. "And I'm feeling a little tired."