Ten #2
He smiled slowly, his eyes firing. I was amusing him so much at that moment that I had to grin back; there was no way not to respond when he was teasing me. “No,” he said quietly, his voice low. “I don’t want you to quit.”
“Then I won’t.” I smiled smugly, very pleased, straightening up in my seat.
He leaned back away from me and started up a conversation with Kensie and another woman at the table. I sat there chatting with Rebecca Stoler and Marilyn. They were all so very nice, even if none of them could seem to do anything but watch and listen when Dane and I talked.
The food came, and I waited while Dane moved things back and forth between our plates. Onions off both our plates, mushrooms on mine, cucumbers on his, carrots on mine, potatoes on his, and he split his steak and my chicken so we both had a little of each.
“Wow.” Marilyn smiled at me. “That was quite the production.”
“Well…” I shrugged. “I mean, we eat together every day. He knows what I’ll eat.”
“I know what he’ll eat,” he echoed me and then looked at my plate. “And that looks acceptable.”
I still didn’t have much of an appetite, but I picked at the chicken.
“You look better than I thought you would,” Dane said, looking into my eyes, turning my head back and forth with a hand on my chin. “The shiner’s a nice touch, though.”
“Thanks.” I pushed the plate away from me and drained my ice tea.
“The new typist is a hundred and twenty years old,” he muttered.
I smiled wide. “Well, that makes sense.”
“I guess,” he replied, arm around the back of my chair. “Are you safe at the detective’s place?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive.”
“All right.”
After a while I tapped his shoulder gently.
“What?”
“May I speak to you a second?”
“About?”
“Caleb Reid.”
“What about him?” he asked casually, but I could tell from the look in the dark eyes that I was in trouble.
“I think you should do what he wants and go see them.”
“I think you chose this setting to broach this subject with me because you knew I couldn’t kill you in public,” he said pointedly.
“I think you’re right.”
He smiled and turned so he was facing me. “And when did you become informed of the specifics of this situation?”
“Last night. I had dinner with him.”
“And you spoke to him after you said you wouldn’t?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it was about you, and you know I had to know.”
“All right.”
“So I’ll go with you.”
“Go where?” Kensie asked from the other side of him.
“Oh you will, will you?” he asked me, completely ignoring her.
“You know I will.”
“It’s far from here.”
“I know. Texas. I can go there.”
“And Detective Kage would think what about that?”
“He wouldn’t care.”
“No?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“He knows you’re my boss. He knows I’d be safe with you.”
“Does he?”
I looked at him hard. “Yeah. Course.”
“All right. I’ll go next Friday.”
“You mean we.”
“I mean I.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s no one’s business but mine.”
“I thought I would go with you,” I said quickly, trying to not let him hear the disappointment.
He smiled as he surveyed the restaurant. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no reason for it.”
“No?”
“No.” He turned to look at me.
“You don’t need me to go?” I asked hopefully.
“No,” he said sternly, trying to force me with his tone to quit.
“You’re sure?”
“Very sure. Now drop it.”
I sighed heavily. “I’ll call Mr. Reid.”
“I will call Mr. Reid. You’re done with it.”
I was about to savor my negotiation skills when I suddenly turned and looked at him. The grin was obvious, and his eyes were twinkling. “You played me. You were already going to go.”
“I was mulling it over.”
“But?”
“But now when it’s a horror, I have you to blame.” He grinned evilly.
Crap.
“So where are you off to?” Kensie asked, her hand on his chin, turning his eyes to her.
When he leaned away from her touch, I knew this date would probably be their last. He wasn’t a fan of being directed to do anything.
She was taking liberties, and he would not have that.
Of course, it would have been helpful if he gave his dates a list of rules before they started, but I also suspected that for the right person, his dos and don’ts would be forgotten.
I excused myself ten minutes later and stood up to leave.
“Where are you going?” Dane asked, rising from his chair to stand in front of me.
“Home.” I yawned, smiling up at him. “I’ve interrupted enough for one night.”
He squeezed my shoulder gently. “You haven’t done anything.”
I held his gaze.
“Come on,” he said gruffly, hand on the back of my neck, leading me from the table.
“Good night!” I called back over my shoulder.
Dane walked me out to wait for the cab.
“Do you want to come along to the theater? I can get you a ticket.”
“No, thanks,” I said as I zipped up my parka. “I don’t wanna die.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“Your date’ll kill me. She’s already royally pissed off.”
“She’s not.”
“Oh, trust me, she is.”
“As though I care.” He sighed heavily, breathing in the crisp air.
I looked up at him a minute, studying the classic profile. “Why are you out with her, then?”
He gave me a look like I was clearly out of my mind. “When I’m ready to discuss my personal life with you, I’ll let you know.” He opened the door of the cab that had been hailed by the valet, and I climbed in.
“I can’t wait!” I shouted cheerfully, smiling widely as he closed the door. I waved hard as the cab pulled away from the curb just to try and annoy him a little.
I made it back to the apartment about ten minutes before Sam, and had his stereo blasting when he walked in the door.
“Hey!” he called out to me as he came into the living room. “What are you doing?”
It was perfectly obvious that I was dancing.
On his hardwood floors in my socks, I was sliding around pretty well.
He stood and watched me, his smile wide.
I sang along at the top of my lungs, and he motioned me to him after a few minutes.
I slid across the floor to him, and he grabbed the front of my sweater and pulled me close.
“I’ll shower and we can go get something to eat, all right?”
More food. “Sure.”
He put his hands on my face. “You look better.”
“Yeah?” I asked, stepping closer to him, leaning my cheek in his hand.
“Somebody needs a little attention.”
I lifted my chin, stretching my neck toward him. His hands were instantly on my throat.
“Huh, J? You need somethin’?”
I nodded, and he eased me close and kissed me. Funny that despite the short span of days that we’d been acquainted, the man was already kissing me like he owned me. He was very possessive, whether he knew it or not.
“Keep dancing, J.” He pulled back, kissing the end of my nose. “I’ll be right out.”
I rolled my eyes, turning off the music as he jogged out of the room.
There was knocking at the front door, so I went to see who it was. The man on the other side of the door looked stunned when I answered.
“Hi.” I smiled brightly.
“Hi,” he said slowly, clearly confused. “Is Sam here?”
“Yeah,” I said as two women joined him in the hall. “Did you want to come in?” I asked them all, stepping back, holding the door open.
I closed the door behind the three and realized the blonde was carrying a large casserole dish. It was covered in tin foil, and she was carrying it with potholders.
“Oh geez.” I smiled at her. “Here, bring that into the kitchen and put it down. I’m so sorry; I didn’t notice you holding anything.”
She smiled wanly and followed me through the living room to the kitchen. I moved the teakettle off the burner so she could put the food down.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, and her voice was beautiful. Round tones like she’d been to boarding school or something. Lots of diction classes. “It’s hot, and it was getting very heavy.”
“What is it?”
“Veal piccata.”
“Mmmm.” I nodded, but I was so not a fan of veal. I tried never to eat baby anything. “Yummy.” I held out my hand to her then. “Hi, I’m Jory Keyes.”
“Oh, well, it’s lovely to meet you, Jory. I’m Christine Montero, and out there in the other room are my brother, Jeff, and my friend Donna Norton.”
“Great.” I nodded. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Well”—she grimaced—“I think we’re supposed to be having dinner.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, um, my brother made a dinner date with Sam about a week ago. I was supposed to cook my specialty that my brother’s apparently been bragging about, and Sam was going to supply the salad and the wine,” she clarified for me. “That was the plan, anyway.”
“Oh.” I was completely unsure of what I was supposed to do at that point. How awkward was this? Worse was that this had been so inconsequential to Sam that he had seemingly not even remembered it. “I see. Well, let’s ask him if he made it to the store.”
She followed me back out to the living room.
“Jeff”—Christine smiled uneasily at him—“I think perhaps this sort of slipped Sam’s mind.”
“What?”
“I told you to call him and confirm,” she said crisply, her tone almost sharp.
“No.” Jeff shook his head, giving me a quick look. “He’s not like that. He’s got this covered.”
It took everything in me not to smile. The man so did not have this covered.
“Hi.” The other woman leaned forward to offer me her hand. “I’m Donna Norton. And you are?”
“Jory.” I smiled at her. “Good to meet you,” I said, looking over at Jeff.
“Hey.” He smiled tightly. “Jeffrey Montero. I live down the hall there in five G.”
“Oh, neighbors,” I blurted. “Great.”
“J?” Sam called from the bedroom. “Why don’t you come in here and—”
“I’m in the living room.” I cut him off, and because I knew he’d just gotten out of the shower, I was kind instead of the bitchy I felt like being. “And you have guests.”