HE AWKWARDNESS IN THE FOYER GREW STRONGER IN THE car as Diana wondered how she and Cole could part on some sort of appropriate and, preferably, uplifting note. Cole had checked out of the Balmoral when they left, his luggage was in her trunk, and his pilots were waiting for Cole to call them with a departure time.

If the local television stations hadn't already run the news clips of Cole giving her the necklace, the story and pictures would surely hit the Monday morning paper and the announcement of their marriage would have to follow immediately. In Diana's exhausted state, the immediate future seemed perilous and overwhelming.

The clock on her dashboard showed 7:15, and the prospect of being alone in her apartment with nothing to do but anticipate tomorrow's siege of phone calls, comments, and stares from friends, associates, employees, and newspeople was depressing and overwhelming.

She turned onto San Felipe and decided to ask Cole up to her apartment for a drink. There were probably many details they needed to go over.

Beside her, Cole watched her expression go from thoughtful to somber to unhappy, and he guessed the reason. "Why don't you invite me up for a drink?" he suggested.

That startled a laugh from her. "I was just going to do that."

Diana's high-rise apartment had glass exterior walls that provided a beautiful view, and the spacious interior was clearly the work of a good designer. Filmy white draperies with graceful swags and valances complemented the thick white carpeting and inviting groupings of white sofas and chairs. Silk flower centerpieces and throw pillows provided splashes of mauve, light green, and white. Earlier, Cole had thought her apartment luxurious and well done, but now he noticed it lacked the profusion of homey touches that had been so much in evidence at the River Oaks house, and that surprised him.

On a table beside the sofa her pager was beeping and the light on her answering machine was flashing. She went directly to the pager. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, dialing the telephone with one hand and holding her pager in the other. "There's a call on here from Cindy Bertrillo, who handles public relations for us," she explained.

"Why don't I make the drinks," Cole suggested.

She sent him a brief smile of gratitude, listening to the phone ringing. Tipping her head toward the right, she said, "There's a liquor cabinet in the island in the kitchen. Plain Coke for me, please." No one answered at Cindy's house, so she hung up the phone and pressed the playback button on the answering machine.

She had eleven messages, ten of which were from friends and acquaintances wanting to ask her about Cole Harrison. The last few calls referred to a newscast at six P.M. that showed a videotape of Cole Harrison presenting her with the forty-thousand-dollar necklace. She skipped through those as soon as she got the gist of the call.

The last one was from Cindy Bertrillo, twenty minutes ago: "Diana, this is Cindy. I just got back from my sister's in Austin, and I had some really weird calls from the media on my machine. I tried to reach you at your folks' house, and they said you were on your way home. I need to give you the press release on the new Holidays by Hand kits we'll be offering soon, so I'll run over there now and tell you about the messages in person. I didn't say anything to your parents," she added with a smothered laugh, "but wait until you hear the stories that are going around! If you aren't there, I'll leave the press release with the doorman. Bye."

The buzzer at the door sounded before Diana could touch the rewind button, and Diana braced herself. Cindy and she traveled together whenever Diana did television or radio appearances, and they had more than a formal employer-employee relationship; they had become friends over the years. Cindy knew perfectly well that Diana had been engaged to Dan for two years; she also knew the names of most of the men Diana had gone out with before that, and Cole Harrison hadn't been one of them.

Cindy rushed in like a fresh breeze, tanned, smiling, and brimming with inexhaustible energy. "The rumor mill has outdone itself," she announced cheerfully, shoving her sunglasses up onto her head and following Diana over to the sofa. Diana was too tense to sit, and Cindy was clearly too wound up to sit, so they faced each other across the cocktail table as Cindy burst out with her news: "You are not going to believe this!" she began. "What did you do last night— dance with Cole Harrison, or did you just smile at him?"

"Yes," Diana said weakly, unable to summon the courage to make her announcement a moment sooner than she had to. "I mean, I did both."

"Well, wait until you hear what the press is making out of that!" she said, choking back a laugh so she could go on. "The business editor at the Chronicle, an Associated Press reporter, and a producer at the Financial News Network all left messages on my machine wanting confirmation of the rumor that Foster Enterprises wants to merge with Unified Industries!" She threw her hands up in laughing disbelief. "That's as absurd as a guppy trying to merge with a shark!"

She saw Diana's gaze shift toward the kitchen. "Wait, you haven't heard the best part," she said. Diana's attention returned to her, and she announced with a laugh, "Some woman, who said she was you, called CNN and Maxine Messenger and said she'd just married Cole Harrison! Can you believe it?"

"No," Diana admitted truthfully. "Not yet."

"The producer at CNN said the woman sounded like she might have been drinking. Also, all four of our local stations want the true story. Now, what shall I say when I call them back?"

In the doorway, Cole watched with amused admiration as a becoming pink blush tinted Diana's porcelain cheeks, then deepened when Cindy said, "Shall I call the rumors of your marriage to Harrison 'ludicrous' or 'simply ridiculous'? Or do you want to take a softer approach?"

A deep baritone voice made Cindy's head jerk toward the doorway as a dark-haired man raised his glass to his mouth and suggested blandly, "Personally, I'd take the softer approach."

Shock momentarily overcame her manners. "You'd what? Who are you?"

The glass lowered, revealing a very familiar face. "I am the shark who married the guppy last night," he said drolly.

Cindy sank down on the arm of the sofa. "Hanging is too good for me," she murmured in a small, meek voice.

She recovered and stood up as he came to stand beside Diana and slid his arm around her waist. "I'm Cindy Bertrillo," she said gravely, offering her hand across the table. "I used to be public relations director for Foster Enterprises."

Cole had expected Diana to voice some sort of sharp reprimand, which was what he would have done in similar circumstances, but as he silently shook the publicist's hand, he wasn't completely indifferent to her misery or her humor.

Diana and Cole spent a few minutes bringing Cindy up to date with the fact of their marriage, after which the publicist turned her considerable talents toward dealing with a public announcement. It soon became apparent that the best method for all concerned was to give a short press conference midmorning the following day. Although the publicist never said it, Cole sensed that, from a public relations standpoint, she was delighted to have Diana free of the stigma of Penworth's desertion, and she positively lit up when she realized that Diana and Cole had known each other for years.

When the meeting was concluded, Diana showed her out. Then Diana walked into the kitchen, where Cole was filling a water glass from the faucet. "Where would you like to sleep tonight?" she asked.

His gaze swerved to her. "What are my choices?"

"Here," Diana said innocently, "or the Balmoral."

"Here."

She nodded. "Why don't you call your pilots and tell them of the change of plans and then bring your suitcase up, and I'll get the guest bedroom ready."