Page 25 of The Director's Daughter

Shaking his head at Emma’s drunken state, Zach pulled away from the curb and headed home. If she showed up for the interview less than sparkling, he’d have the perfect excuse to send her on her way.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT WAS A SHORT DRIVEfrom Pacific Palisades to Emma’s home in Venice, but Angelo directed the driver to follow a winding, circuitous route until he was confident there was no-one following them. By the time the car pulled up outside Emma’s condominium complex, she’d fallen asleep slumped against Angelo’s shoulder.

“Where are we?” she muttered as he woke her up. “What time is it?”

“At your place, and it’s time to put you to bed.”

The driver had moved to the car door ready to hold it open, but Angelo lowered the window.

“Do you see anyone around?”

“No, Sir, it’s all clear.”

“What’s your name?”

“Phillip, Sir.”

“Thanks, Phillip. Wait for me. I’ll be back. Come on, Emma. I need to get you inside.”

With the driver keeping vigil, Angelo managed to get her out of the back seat and up the steps to the front door.

“Emma, where are your keys?”

“In here, of course,” she replied waving her Chanel evening bag.

It wasn’t easy keeping her steady as she opened the small purse, but she pulled them out and handed them over. Once inside the building, he supported her as they moved across the lobby to the elevator, then down the hall to her door. But the entire time she jabbered incoherently about Continental pictures and wanting to work there. Finally entering her unit, he helped her to the bedroom and onto her bed. With an early start in the morning he had no intention of staying, but as he stared down at her, he abruptly realized he’d had enough.

“This isn’t working for me, Emma. I’m sorry, but we’re done.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just let me sleep.”

“I figured,” he mumbled. “I truly hope you get your act together—and soon.”

She didn’t respond.

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