Jim asked.Kelli jerked back to reality. “What?”“For the past couple of days you’ve been walking around in a daze, and once in a while you look really angry.”Kelli thought about how much she could tell him. “I’m trying to figure out a way around a promise I don’t want to keep,” she said, sipping her coffee, which had gone cold. She got up, threw it into the sink, and poured herself another cup. “More coffee?”“Half a cup,” Jim replied.She poured it, then sat down again.“Your eggs are getting cold.”She ate a few bites.“I can’t think of anything you promised me,” Jim said. “We’ve never promised each other anything.”“Oh, it’s not a promise to you.”“Then to whom?”Kelli screwed up her forehead and tried to think of a way she could answer the question. “I think I may have promised not to tell anybody even that.”“Baby, are you in some kind of trouble?”“In a way,” she said. “I’m in the kind of trouble that a journalist gets into when she knows about something but can’t write about it.”“Why can’t you write about it?”“Because I promised—I signed an agreement not to.”“A business agreement?
