His smile faded.
“Josephine Sarah Fletcher!”Emmy Lou said.“Is that any way to treat Mr.Hastings?Apologize this instant!”
“I’m sorry,” Jo said.“In more ways than one.Emmy Lou, this isn’t Brian Hastings.”
“What do you mean, he isn’t Brian Hastings?You’re talking to a woman who sawThe Drifterfourteen times!Andthis—” she gestured dramatically toward Quinn “—is Brian Hastings.”
Quinn winced.“As a matter of fact?—”
“I would know this man anywhere.”Emmy Lou marched over to Quinn and took his face firmly in her hand.She lifted his chin.“Look at those sensuous lips.”She brought his chin down again.“Look into those intense blue eyes.And the profile!”She whipped Quinn’s head abruptly to one side.“There!Are you trying to tell me that’s not the profile of Brian Hastings, love god?”
Jo sighed, “That’s the profile of Quinn Monroe, investment banker.I couldn’t say whether he’s a love god or not.”
“Only on alternate Thursdays,” Quinn said.
Emmy Lou frowned and turned his head until she could look into his eyes.She fluffed his hair and stared at him some more.“Smile for me.”
“I can’t.You’re digging your thumb into my cheek.”
Emmy Lou released him.“Now smile.”
Quinn obliged.
“You see?It’s the Brian Hastings I’m-too-sexy-for-my-shirt smile!Only in real life it’s even better.”She patted him on the cheek.“You should make more public appearances.You look good close up.Not all actors do.”
While Emmy Lou was talking, Jo’s brain began working overtime.She was fascinated with the housekeeper’s conviction that Quinn had to be Brian Hastings, despite Jo and Quinn denying it.Fascinated and intrigued.She might have been convinced herself if she hadn’t seen him driving a cab, but logic had told her that Brian Hastings wouldn’t get his kicks driving a cab in New York City.
“I’m here to deliver the sperm,” Quinn said.
Emmy Lou gasped.“Young man, I know Hollywood’s filled with sin and debauchery, but you’re in Montana now, and we don’t talk like that out here.You work up to that — a few dates, a few stolen kisses, a little fondling.And the term ismaking love, notdelivering sperm.”
“You brought it?”Jo asked.Now that was something to be happy about.
Quinn reached beside his chair and lifted the cooler onto the table.“I figured you might still be able to salvage it if I caught the next flight to Bozeman.So I just came.On the spur of the moment.”
“That’s really...amazing.Thank you, Quinn.Let me stick it in the refrigerator.”Jo’s disappointment that Brian Hastings wasn’t here to rent her ranch dimmed as she realized what a sacrifice Quinn had made.After putting the cooler inside the refrigerator, she turned to Emmy Lou.“Remember the cabdriver who was afraid of snakes?This is him.I just forgot to tell you he looks like Brian Hastings.”
Emmy Lou crossed her arms and surveyed Quinn.“Maybe Brian Hastings went undercover in New York City in order to get away from the pressures of making movies.”
Jo shook her head.“Give it up, Em.He’s not Brian Hastings, and all the wishing in the world won’t make it so.But he’s done me a very big favor, and I appreciate it.”She glanced at him nervously as she thought about what a plane ticket had probably cost him.“I need to reimburse you for your ticket.”
“No, you don’t.I’m the one who made you lose the sperm.”He glanced at Emmy Lou.“Does the offer of chicken still stand even if I’m not Brian Hastings?”
“Of course!I feed any poor hungry soul who comes through that kitchen door, no matter who it is.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“But I still can’t believe you’re—what was the name?”
“Quinn Monroe.”
“Any proof?”
“As a matter of fact, I have the chauffeur’s license I had to get before I could drive one of Murray’s cabs.”Quinn reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.Then he glanced at Jo.“But you have to promise not to laugh.The picture makes me look like an escaped convict.”
“I’ll bet it makes you look like Brian Hastings.”Emmy Lou studied the license for a long time.Finally she handed it back to Quinn.“Okay, so you’re not him, but you could pass for him any day of the week.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
