Читать книгу The Chance - Robyn Carr, Robyn Carr - Страница 10

Four

Eric had been optimistic regarding his date with Laine, but he had not really expected it to go as well as it did. First off, she asked a million questions about the restoration of the El Camino, right down to the vinyl truck-bed cover and dash instruments, where he found parts and how he pulled it all together. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew she was appealing directly to his male pride. But he could also tell she was genuinely interested, not just trying to pump him up. By the time they got to the restaurant in Bandon, he had already passed the point of no return. He was no longer just attracted to her, he really liked her.

“I hope this is okay,” he said, pulling into the parking lot of a small restaurant. “It’s not fancy but Cooper says the food is great and it’s not loud.”

“Perfect,” she said, unfastening her seat belt and reaching for the door handle.

He grabbed her wrist. “Wait,” he said. “Let me be a gentleman. At least for tonight. I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“Well, knock yourself out,” she said, waiting as he came around and opened her door.

When they were inside, he rejected the first table the waitress showed them. “How about that one?” he asked, pointing to a table in the corner rather than in the middle of the room. Then he leaned close and said to the waitress, “First date.”

“Gotcha,” she replied, smiling approvingly.

When they were seated, Laine said, “Either you’re very experienced with first dates or you’re actually suave.”

“How old are you?” he asked. “You look young, very young, but when you open your mouth there’s a whole lot of experience there.”

“Thirty-three,” she said. “Looking young was a problem when I was fifteen. When I was twenty-one, too. But at thirty-three I don’t mind that much and I think when I’m fifty I’ll be grateful. And you are...?”

“Thirty-six. For one more month.”

She ordered a glass of Cabernet, he ordered a beer and they looked at menus. Once they had decided and ordered, he said, “Now it’s your turn, Laine. I want to hear about being a researcher.”

“Aw, no you don’t. But let’s get this out of the way. I work for a government agency on a task force that involves a lot of different government agencies. Like I told you before, I do a lot of background checks, all over the place, none of which I’m allowed to talk about. I have a security clearance. Ninety percent of the time it’s not interesting and when it is interesting I really can’t talk about it. I don’t mean to be dismissive and I’m certainly not being coy, but that’s not what I’d like to talk about, if you can live with that....”

“Secret clearance, huh?” he said. “I bet you’re connected to spooky stuff.”

She shrugged. “I used to think so. But seriously, since that’s not what I’m doing right now...”

“All right, tell me what you’re interested in besides cooking.”

It was unmistakable, how her eyes lit up. “Lots of things. I love horses, though I haven’t had one since college. I rode as a kid—English saddle and dressage competition. I also took karate and competed. First my mom had me in gymnastics, which I remember as great fun, but then I grew into karate, which I still love. I love parasailing and rock climbing—all things I can’t do right now because of a weak arm, but my shoulder is healed and getting stronger all the time, so one of these days... The family had a sailboat, so I know how to sail. By the time the weather warms up, I’ll be ready to strengthen the shoulder with a kayak paddle on a bay that’s usually still and calm. I really love being outdoors.”

“You did all those things as a kid?”

She gave a nod. “What did you do?”

He laughed. “Laine, I think we had very different childhoods. My dad was a postal carrier and my mom was a housewife. I played Little League and sandlot soccer—teams and uniforms were pretty expensive. I suspect you had lots of advantages.”

“My parents were both surgeons. My mother passed away a few years ago and my dad is approaching seventy but he has an active practice and still operates. Not the way he used to—just sometimes. He’s winding down, his partners doing the bulk of the cases, but he’s still involved. Orthopedics.”

“You were a lucky kid,” he said, smiling at her.

Their salads arrived and they talked while they dug in. She told him she had no idea she was a lucky kid and spent far too much time focusing on things that didn’t satisfy her and he admitted that in his neighborhood, he’d had no idea he was poor, until much later, when he could see the difference between the haves and the have-nots.

“And you come from Thunder Point?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We moved there when I was in high school. My folks only lived there a few years, then moved closer to my older sister and her family.”

“And you’re definitely not poor now,” she said.

“I get by. I have some money saved. Not a fortune. I’m pretty tight, when you get down to it.”

“A by-product of growing up not having enough?”

He chewed a mouthful of salad. “More likely a by-product of worrying that I don’t deserve what I have. I didn’t even graduate from high school. I got my GED later.”

“At least you got it!”

By the time their entrées came, they were talking about the differences in their lives to this point in time—she admitted to a successful college experience, while he claimed a few college courses. He told her it was his brother-in-law who helped him buy the first auto body shop in Eugene, but he managed to pay him back and buy him out. Eric was enjoying the conversation, even though he was the poor cousin to her privileged little girl. That didn’t bother him—his parents were good people, just not rich people. He was well aware that their differences ran far deeper, but he wasn’t going to get into that tonight. He wanted to get to know her first; wanted her to get to know him for the person he was now, not the person he had been in years past. Besides, she was playing some cards very close to her own chest—like the top secret jazz she couldn’t talk about. Surely her good friend Devon had been privy to what Laine actually did for a living. And he was willing to bet it wasn’t “research.”

But no matter what was missing, what was there for Eric was plenty. He was further across the line—he really liked her. She was fun and smart and sexy. It sounded like she had a complicated life that she took in stride, which spelled maturity—he appreciated that. There was a certain young wisdom about her when she said things like, “I think it’s too bad when our parents don’t live up to our expectations when it’s even more likely we didn’t live up to theirs.”

Plus...he liked the way she lifted the fork, licked her lips, brushed back her hair. She had a small dimple on the right side of her mouth, very deep blue eyes, one slightly crooked front tooth that gave her smile an impish quality. She was so articulate; he had had to work hard to become articulate when he began to draw a sophisticated clientele. He hadn’t come from a well-educated background and as a kid he hung with lowlifes. She said she didn’t have a million friends, just a few good ones. “I can relate to that,” he said. “Me, too.”

“I’m not very social, when you get down to it,” she said. “I’d much rather have a small dinner with a couple of friends than go to a party. I don’t think I’ve been to a party in...years. A couple of wedding receptions or retirement parties, but those are almost mandatory events.”

“Would you like to be more social?” he asked her.

She shook her head. Then she shrugged and said, “I like what I like. I love fixing dinner for friends. I have a twin brother—another doctor, which makes my father very happy. Pax is his name and he’s the most remarkable man I know—Harvard bred, he’s finishing up a fellowship in pediatric surgery at Brigham and Women’s and he actually has a personality. He’s kind and brilliant.” Then she laughed and said, “I guess you can tell, we’re very close. I’m not close to my sister-in-law, but we both love Pax, so we get along well enough.”

He laughed at that. “I have to admit, my brother-in-law and I are closer than I am to my sister. My sister has been trying to fix me for at least twenty years, my brother-in-law thinks I’m cool.”

They shared a rich chocolate cheesecake for dessert and Eric asked for a cup of coffee while she finished her second glass of wine. “What about that beer?” she asked. “Wasn’t it okay? You didn’t even drink half of it.”

“It was fine, but I’m not much of a drinker, and I’m driving. I should probably worry more about my coffee consumption.”

On the way home he asked her, “When you were a kid, did you do any middle-class stuff, like...you know...Brownies? T-ball? Explorers Club?”

“Nah, my parents had us in accelerated academic programs. We had tutors from the beginning. My father pushed really hard. I didn’t even know about those other things. I was playing chess by eight, Pax was an elementary school leader in science club. My dad had a plan and my mom pretty much went along with it. The only reason I was in karate is because Pax was.” She turned toward him and grinned. “But I took to it better than he did. I can kick the stuffing out of him.”

“Spoken like a true sister.”

Eric pulled into her driveway. He turned to look at her and damn, she was so pretty. This was just about a peak experience for him. “Good first date,” he said, oh so eloquently.

“Excellent first date.”

“Don’t move,” he told her. “Let me be a gentleman.”

He led her toward the door and when they got there she stopped and turned, looking up at him expectantly. “Well?”

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what she was waiting for. “Don’t you want to get to know me better before we have that good-night kiss?” he asked, giving her a chance to make a break for it.

“Look, I haven’t been out on a real date in over a year and before that it was a series of really bad dates with guys I’d never date a second time and this was an excellent date. Didn’t I just say that? And damn it, I want to cap it off with a—”

It rapidly crossed his mind that she must have been a supervisor, at least. He slid his arm around her waist and lifted her up to his lips. She was small but not that light; he could feel the muscles that hadn’t been so obvious. This was a strong woman. He found her mouth with his and planted one on her and then, almost instantly, he fell in love with that mouth. With one hand supporting her at the small of her back and the other plunged into her soft hair at the back of her head, he urged her lips open. He was cautious with his invasive tongue but she wasn’t. She welcomed him, pulled him in, joined him in tongue-play. Her arms circled his neck and held on tight and he moved over her mouth hungrily, drinking in her taste. She was just perfect. It was almost scary how perfect she was. He lapped at her mouth, devoured her, started breathing hard in spite of his intention to be cool. He was not cool. He was over the edge.

He slowly broke away, but didn’t put her on her feet. He loved having her up against him. “Tell the truth. The president works for you....”

That made her laugh. “Want to come in?” she asked in a breathy whisper.

He shook his head. “If I come in, I won’t leave till morning.”

“That’s negotiable....”

“Let’s get to know each other a little better.”

“Wow. I didn’t think men said no.”

“I like you,” he said. “A lot. I don’t want you to have any regrets. I want you to be sure.”

“And you? You want to be sure?” she asked.

Oh, man, he was too sure. But there was a lot about him she didn’t know. And the front stoop was not the place to go through the details. “At least one more date, honey,” he said. “I think we’re both ready, but let’s take it a little slower....”

“You think I’m a slut?”

He laughed at her. “I think you’re a goddess!”

“Correct answer,” she said, wiggling in his arms until he set her on her feet. “Good date, good first kiss, let’s see if you can live up to the rest of it.”

“Oh, the pressure,” he said, chuckling. He leaned down and kissed her nose. “Thank you, Laine. I had a good time.”

“Do you think you’ll ask me out again or are you just going to ask how my car is running for the next week?”

He loved her sass. Loved it. She was so bold; not a coy bone in her body. “Sunday night?”

“Something going on tomorrow night?”

He shook his head. “I’m pretty busy tomorrow during the day, that’s all.”

“Can I cook us dinner?” she asked.

And he knew. He knew. He was going to have to lay it all on her—everything he held in his past. It might just freak her out. And if it didn’t freak her out, he’d be staying till Sunday morning. This was a beautiful, terrifying impasse.

“Sure,” he said. “What time?”

“Six?”

“I’ll be here.”

* * *

After her date, Laine washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her favorite pajamas, lit the fire in her bedroom and snuggled into bed. Ordinarily she would close her eyes, take a few deep, slow breaths and worry that sleep might elude her or that she’d wake with a start because some deep, subconscious fear chased her in the dark of night.

Before the shooting she had been so highly disciplined she could grab sleep whenever it was available. After the shooting, she had suffered bouts of sleeplessness. Sometimes she thought she heard a gunshot and jolted awake, panting. When the FBI shrink had asked how she’d been sleeping she said, “Groggily, because of pain meds, I suppose. But I sleep. I’ve always been good at sleeping.” She could tell the shrink wasn’t fooled. Agents probably told her that all the time.

But tonight she welcomed a little sleeplessness.

She watched the fire and thought about that man, that handsome, delightful man. And thought about sex. Everything Eric had said and done on their first date indicated a man who was confident and thoughtful enough to be good in bed. She couldn’t remember when she’d had sex last.

Oh, yes, she could—she’d just rather not. It was an agent she’d worked a case with in New York; when the case was wrapped, they’d gone out for drinks, back to his hotel and splat. Very disappointing sex. What was his name? Oh, right, Paul Remmings—DEA. Very nice guy, very sharp and quick, with quick being the operative word. Hmm.

She knew one of the problems in law enforcement was being drawn to like creatures, probably because that’s where she spent most of her time. And when it came to civilians, she couldn’t let herself be transparent with them, which didn’t lend itself to intimacy. If she were completely honest with herself, that was one of the reasons for this hiatus—she needed to expand her boundaries, check out the real world, far away from the FBI.

And bingo, what had the real world offered up? Oh, my, oh, my, oh, Eric. Both tempting and, based on what he said, tempted.

Then she thought about cooking. It would have to showcase the best part of herself. Seafood chowder or bouillabaisse. Maybe crab legs. Or fresh catch...but she was partial to soups and stews, especially on cold nights. She considered a lot of options from chili to chicken soup.

When she did finally fall asleep, she woke to a dark dawn, drizzle and frigid temperatures and it made her smile. This was custom-made for her second date—there would be a fire and a hot, comforting meal. She made a list that included gourmet coffee for him and a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for her. She would make her own cheesecake—something cool on the palate after a heavy meal.

She got her shopping out of the way first, settling on one of her passions—chicken and dumplings. No one had made dumplings like her mother and Laine had all her mother’s skills...and recipes. She’d start with crab-stuffed tomato halves and crispy Parmesan bread sticks. She got a start on her chopping and mixing and then, despite the cold drizzle, she went for a run to burn off a little of that hyper, anticipatory energy.

On her way back to her house, she paced in front of the diner for a while until she was breathing more evenly. Then she went inside and jumped up on a counter stool in front of Gina.

“Hey,” Gina said. “Great day for a run?” she asked, grinning.

“It is, actually. Can you bring me something hot and wonderful?”

“I have a secret stash of instant hot chocolate,” she said, pulling an envelope out of her apron pocket. “I can shoot a little whipped cream on top.”

“Oh, yeah, I want that,” Laine said. Then she looked around. “No crowd today?”

“Saturday lunch in the rain doesn’t usually draw a crowd, which is fine by me.” Gina poured hot water into a cup, added the mix, stirred and put it in front of Laine before bringing out the can of whipped cream. “You must be a dedicated runner to be out in this slop.”

“I like the slop,” she said. She took a sip and said, “Ahhhh.”

“That makes one of you,” Gina said. “I get tired of the rain and fog and live for the sunny days.”

“I had a date last night,” Laine said softly. She smiled and knew her eyes glittered. “A good date. A nice date. And I’m having an encore tonight. I had to burn off some energy. I really don’t want to peak too soon. That’s always a prelude to disappointment....”

Gina looked stunned. “With...?”

“Eric. The gas man.”

“Oh! Wow!”

Laine looked outside and saw him walk out of the deli and hold the door for someone. “And speak of the devil,” she said. And then she watched in wonder as a pretty young woman came out. Eric let the door close, spoke to the young woman briefly, then they hugged. She thought her throat might close. “Oh,” she said quietly. Eric walked away. The woman crossed the street to the diner and Laine saw that she was just a girl, really. “God, she’s so young. What’s going...? He is much too old for her!”

Gina laughed softly. “They’re not dating, Laine. He’s her father.”

Laine’s head snapped back into forward position and looked at Gina in shock. “But...”

The girl came in and walked right behind the counter. “Hi, Mom. Eric gave me an Amazon gift card.” Then she looked at Laine. “Hi,” she said, and Laine could see the resemblance—red hair, green eyes, but that smile belonged to someone else. Gina.

“Ashley, this is Laine. Laine, meet my daughter, Ashley.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ashley said. “I’ll go change and be right out to relieve you.”

Laine was speechless. She didn’t even know what question to form first and she felt the color drain from her face. Great game face, Laine, she chided herself.

“High-school romance,” Gina said. “Eric didn’t know about Ashley until about a year ago. I was very young and raised Ashley alone, with my mother’s help. The deli is my mother’s business—Ashley works there part-time, whenever Mom needs her help. And she’s here a few afternoons and evenings a week.”

“He didn’t mention...”

“I guess you can’t know everything about each other after one date,” Gina said with a shrug.

“Having a daughter would seem real high on the list,” Laine said. And then she felt the color come back to her face with a vengeance and she thought, What the hell? I’m an experienced undercover investigator! I don’t go pale, don’t flush, don’t allow personal emotions to dominate my behavior or responses. But she said, “You and Eric?”

“Getting along better than I expected we would. I located him and met with him to get some medical history from his side of the family, a purely practical thing. It was Ashley’s decision to meet him and at first it made me very nervous, very paranoid, but it’s worked out well for both of them, I think. He’s changed a lot in seventeen years. But then, so have I.”

But for Laine, there was a red flag. Having children, having a child, being a parent—even a recent or part-time parent—would seem to be one of the most obvious things to mention, maybe right after what you did for a living. How had they spent almost four hours together without that subject coming up? Concealment? Because hiding information was one of the first signs something was wrong.

Is that so, Agent Carrington? she chided herself. But wait, wasn’t her situation a matter of public safety? National security? Almost?

But she said to Gina, “It seems to have worked out, then.”

“Don’t let this get under your skin, Laine. I’m a very happy woman. Mac seems to respect Eric. And Mac isn’t easy. I’m sure when you bring this up to Eric, he’ll give you the whole story. He’s a very nice guy. Now.”

“He wasn’t then?”

“I don’t know, that’s a tough one. He was nice to me, but he was such a typical nineteen-year-old—shiftless, irresponsible, egocentric. And I was a completely typical teenage girl—love was more important than common sense. It’s a terrible trap—but I do believe we’ve outgrown those tendencies. Look, we all have baggage. Don’t we?”

“Sure,” she said. However, Laine believed she could keep the heaviest of her baggage to herself for a long time. And it wasn’t all about her work with the FBI. “But you know what? The best way to take care of this is to take care of this.” She stood up. “What do I owe you for the cocoa?”

“On the house. Don’t draw blood. I forgave him a long time ago and I think he’s forgiven me for keeping Ashley to myself.”

“I won’t hurt him,” she said with a weak smile. Then she got out of the diner before she thought about it any further.

She jogged down the block, hood up and covering her head, and went straight for the station. There were a couple of cars at the pumps being taken care of by a teenager. Inside the garage, she could see someone under the hood of a car. He had long legs she recognized, although now he was wearing a coverall of some kind.

“Eric?”

He peeked out. First he smiled, then he frowned in concern. “Laine, you’re all wet....”

She stepped toward him. “I just met Ashley in the diner. You didn’t mention her.”

He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands. “I meant to, but we were talking about other things.” He grinned at her. “Obviously I can’t keep her a secret. The hair, the eyes—she’s either a clone or mine. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Laine nodded but felt numb.

“She’s beautiful inside, too. Just an awesome kid. Gina and her mother really worked their magic raising her.”

“It makes me wonder, though, what other important things you might be waiting to tell me. Because I like the really major stuff up front. I don’t want to get involved and then find out there are issues like having a family that wasn’t even mentioned.”

Eric frowned as if in thought. He was quiet for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and spoke. “There’s no privacy for talking here, Laine. Go home, get dried off. I’ll wash my hands and come over. I’ll tell you the circumstances, you’ll ask me anything on your mind. We’ll get it all on the table. Before tonight.”

“Before tonight?” she asked, already disappointed.

“I don’t want you to waste your time. I like you. I want you to like me. But I’m not perfect by a stretch. So let’s do it.” He lifted one of those copper brows. “How’s that sound?”

It sounded like bad news was coming. But it had to be done.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” she said. Then she turned and jogged out of the garage and down the hill to her house.

* * *

Laine threw on a warm, dry sweat suit and put her chicken on to stew with a halved onion and the end of the celery stalks in the water. It was one o’clock. She put the ingredients for the Parmesan breadsticks on the counter—that would be her next project. She was determined to make her chicken and dumplings whether her encore date happened or not.

And then there was a knock at the door.

She opened it and there he stood in that blue jacket and pants. She took a breath. “I don’t mean to be like this—so suspicious of everything. Certainly a beautiful, sweet girl like Ashley is nothing to be—”

He came inside, took her elbow in a firm grip and said, “Come on, Laine. Let’s talk.” He directed her to the sofa. They sat there, facing each other. “Ashley’s one of the best things that ever happened to me. She’s letting me help her look at colleges. I shouldn’t even have that privilege—not only am I not educated, but Gina and Mac have been her parents, not me. I didn’t know about Ashley. Well, I wondered...”

“Huh?” she asked.

“I dropped out of high school at sixteen. I thought I had the world by the balls because I was making nine dollars an hour changing oil and tuning up engines. And girls—I had girls. And boy,” he said with a rueful laugh, “I thought I had all the moves, too. I thought I was so slick—God’s gift. And I was just a stupid horny kid. And Gina—she was the prettiest girl. All of fifteen, but I had no brain and it didn’t even register that she was too young. We dated, if you can call it that—it was a few fast-food meals and movies and a lot of making out. And then she said she thought she might be pregnant and I ran like my pants were on fire. I was nineteen and she was fifteen—I almost heard the cell door slam behind me. I headed out of town and didn’t look back. I found work in Idaho—more mechanics. And I found my kind of buds—the kind that worked by day and drank and partied and did some recreational drugs at night. We spent our money partying and I thought I had life figured out until I saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. My new buddies stopped for a case of beer and I was driving while they bought the beer because I was nineteen and they were twenty-one.”

Her eyes narrowed. She had not expected this, but she was a trained interrogator and nothing much surprised her.

“Yep. They held up the store. Took the case of beer and eighty dollars—they were such high rollers. There was a silent alarm and my buddies...? They didn’t even really have a gun, thank God, or we might’ve all been killed. One of them stuck his finger out in a sweatshirt pocket and said, ‘Hand over the cash!’ We were tried separately but I had the worst public defender, toughest judge and the longest sentence. I did five years.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Crap,” she said before she could stop herself. She fell against the couch back and closed her eyes. She put her hand against her forehead.

“Five,” he repeated. “I don’t drink much because for five years I didn’t drink at all and while I was on parole, no drugs and no alcohol was the price of freedom. Believe me, a case of beer is never going to be that important again. I have no intention of going back to the useless imbecile I was. I cleaned up my act, learned some lessons, moved on to a better life. That’s it, Laine. I’m an ex-con. Gina, Mac, Ashley and for all I know the whole town is aware of it. I’m not trying to hide anything but I don’t advertise it. I was going to tell you tonight—I’m not trying to pull anything.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Do we have anything in common?”

He shook his head. “I’m also afraid of heights,” he said. “I won’t be parasailing or rock climbing with you. I can’t even watch movies that have people fighting on the rooftops and ledges of buildings. And I’m in passable good shape but I never took karate. I never took lessons of any kind. You can probably kick my ass, too.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered. “What a mess.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said. “But this is all I have. I’m a mechanic who was a delinquent and had a baby I didn’t even know about. I thought about Gina and wondered, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate a letter from prison asking about her condition, so I kept my curiosity to myself. That’s it—that’s all I’ve got.” He stood up.

“Eric, I’m an FBI agent.”

He sat back down. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. Not on the job at the moment but that doesn’t change my status. I guess you’ve figured out—I’m not talking about that around town. I don’t need people looking at me funny. I’m a Fed. A fibbie. I hurt my shoulder by getting in the way of a bullet. I can kick your ass. We don’t fool around about that stuff....”

“You can’t weigh one-twenty soaking wet!”

“And I know every dirty trick,” she told him. “I can kill you with my bare hands.”

He shuddered.

“Okay, not with my bare hands, but if I had a corkscrew or hat pin, you could be history. My brother thinks I’m cool. My father thinks I’m ‘blue-collar.’”

Eric laughed in spite of himself. “He’s jealous.”

“Probably not. I’ve never quite measured up to his expectations.”

“Well, after getting arrested, going to prison and being forever an ex-con, my parents have been pretty disappointed in me, as you can imagine. We get along better these days, but they’re older than dirt and lack the energy to stay mad at me. And then there’s Ashley. My mother and sister had no idea I could actually produce something that pure, that brilliant, that beautiful.” He shrugged. “But then, neither did I. I give all the credit to Gina. If I’d had half a brain back then, I’d have let her straighten me out....”

“Do you still love her?” she asked.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I never loved her, Laine. I was attracted to her and knew she was an awesome person, but back then I lacked the capacity for real love. She was so lucky I ran. I would’ve dragged her down.”

He stood again. “So, look—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I mean it. I wanted us to get to know each other a little bit. I was going to tell you tonight. I would never try to trick someone into a relationship with me. It’s all public record. I have no control over that.”

“And you’re trying to start a business in Thunder Point,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “If I’m lucky, my new customers won’t know I’m an ex-con until they’ve gotten to know me for the guy I am now.”

“I’m stewing the chicken,” she said.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I should’ve told you last night. But damn, I just couldn’t. I was having such a good time. I wanted you to like me, I did.”

She stood up. She put her hands on her hips. “Go home and shower after work and come back. I’m making my mother’s dumplings. They melt in your mouth. I bought special coffee for you and special wine for me....”

“Laine, maybe we’re better off just letting it go right—”

“I’m not supposed to get involved with persons of ill repute, so you better have turned a corner. Because damn it, I’m stewing the chicken. And it’s a wet, cold night.”

“You sure?”

“Are you?” she countered.

He grinned. “As long as you promise all hat pins and corkscrews are out of reach.”

“Six,” she said. “I’ll drop the dumplings after you get here. They’re fragile. We don’t screw with dumplings. Don’t be late.”