“Look, just tell dear old Hal that Houston went perfectly.” She was definitely going to need two pills. Juliet popped another out of the roll with her thumb. “I don’t even want you to mention to him that I called about this—this tripe in Denver.”

“Whatever you say.”

Taking a pen, she sat down and made space on the desk. “Now, give me what you have with the Times.”

A half hour later, Juliet was just finishing up her last call when Carlo poked his head in the office. Seeing she was on the phone, he rolled his eyes, closed the door and leaned against it. His brow lifted when he spotted the half-eaten roll of antacids.

“Yes, thank you, Ed, Mr. Franconi will bring all the necessary ingredients and be in the studio at 8:00. Yes.” She laughed, though her foot was tapping out a rhythm on the floor. “It’s absolutely delicious. Guaranteed. See you in two days.”

When she hung up the receiver, Carlo stepped forward. “You didn’t come to save me.”

She gave him a long, slow look. “You seemed to be handling the situation without me.”

He knew the tone, and the expression. Now all he had to do was find the reason for them. Strolling over, he picked up the roll of pills. “You’re much too young to need these.”

“I’ve never heard that ulcers had an age barrier.”

His brows drew together as he sat on the edge of the desk. “Juliet, if I believed you had an ulcer, I’d pack you off to my home in Rome and keep you in bed on bland foods for the next month. Now…” He slipped the roll into his pocket. “What problem is there?”

“Several,” she said briskly as she began to gather up her notes. “But they’re fairly well smoothed out now. We’ll need to go shopping again in Chicago for that chicken dish you’d planned to cook. So, if you’ve finished up here, we can just—”

“No.” He put a hand on her shoulder and held her in the chair. “We’re not finished. Shopping for chicken in Chicago isn’t what had you reaching for pills. What?”

The best defense was always ice. Her voice chilled. “Carlo, I’ve been very busy.”

“You think after two weeks I don’t know you?” Impatient, he gave her a little shake. “You dig in that briefcase for your aspirin or your little mints only when you feel too much pressure. I don’t like to see it.”

“It comes with the territory.” She tried to shrug off his hand and failed. “Carlo, we’ve got to get to the airport.”

“We have more than enough time. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“All right then.” In two sharp moves, she pulled the clipping out of her case and pushed it into his hands.