Page 11 of Finding Amanda

"Pretend you're blowing up a balloon for your kids. Come on. Blow out."

She blew again and sucked in again.

"Do it again."

She obeyed, staring at her knees and blowing up imaginary balloons. In and out, in and out. How could a person forget how to breathe?

When she felt almost normal, she looked at Alan. Sweat beading on his forehead, he didn't even blink.

She eased her lips into a slight smile. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Thank you."

He sat back on his heels and wiped his brow with his jacket sleeve. "You scared me."

"Sorry. I don't know what happened."

"You were hyperventilating."

"Oh.That's a first."

He rocked to his feet and looked toward the escalator. She did too. No Gabriel.

Alan smiled. "You're safe now."

"Thanks to you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

Two dimples stood out on his cheeks, making him look innocent, almost childlike.

"Don't thank me. How often does a guy like me get to play the hero?" He took a seat on the chair adjacent to the sofa.

This floor was almost a carbon-copy of the one below, where the conference was taking place. Tall windows lined one side of the wide corridor. On the opposite side, doors led to conference rooms. The occasional seating area interrupted the industrial carpet with its multi-colored, geometric pattern. She could just make out the tune of the elevator music playing over the speakers. The area was deserted.

She looked back to Alan. "Don't you have to get to the thing?"

"I don't think there actually is athing."

She shrugged. "You were headed somewhere."

A tinny alarm sounded, and Alan fumbled with his watch to silence it. He pulled a small pill bottle from his coat pocket, shook a yellow pill onto his hand, and popped it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he smiled. "Don't worry. It's not contagious." He slipped the bottle back into his pocket. "I wasn't headed anywhere, actually. Brenda and I met to go over some quick edits, but we'd finished. I was walking her to her meeting with her agent. So, what was that about?"

Amanda sat back on the sofa and brushed her hair back from her face, trying to push away her anxiety. "Long story."

"You said hefoundyou. Were you hiding from him?"

"Not . . . actively."

He cocked his head and frowned. "That's cryptic."

"Sorry. We used to date, sort of, a long time ago."

He studied her for a moment, a grimace scrunching up his eyes. "Either you're older than you look or he's younger than he looks. Or . . ."

She said nothing.

"Ah."

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