I shook my head and smirked. “You want to start talking business now or wait until after we order?”
“After we order. Why talk about divorce when we can talk about you and me?” He gave me a seductive grin, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.
I busted out laughing, tossing my head back and simply shaking it at my flirtatious client. I was sure he was just kidding, so I wasn’t worried about hurting his feelings.
“What, I’m too old for you?”
That elicited another laugh.
“Fine. I do have a son. He’s twenty-five and needs a good woman to help him settle down.”
“Richard.”
He shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
I laughed a little more and picked up my napkin from my lap to dab at the corners of my eyes. I looked up, out over Richard’s shoulder, and my eyes collided with a pair of sharp, coffee orbs. The look in Xavier’s eyes told me he wasn’t happy with the picture he saw in front of him. He stared at me for a second longer before his gaze flitted over to stare at the back of Richard’s head. If looks could kill…
My eyes widened at the realization that Xavier was interpreting my dinner with Richard as a date.
“You look like a deer caught in headlights.”
Richard’s words brought my attention back to the table.
“Sorry.”
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with that fella starin’ daggers into the back of my head, would it?”
“How did you…?”
“He’s been staring at us for a minute. If you weren’t so enamored in your stare down you would’ve seen me turn to look in his direction. A friend of yours?”
I snorted. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” He held his hands out at his sides for emphasis.
“No,you’vegot a divorce that needs handling.” I attempted to get back on track with the original cause for this meeting.
“Okay, we can talk shop for a little while. The sooner I get this divorce over with, the sooner I can commence with wooing you. It seems I’ve got some competition.” Richard turned to peer over his shoulder to where Xavier had stood. However, he was no longer there. His back was now to us as he moved toward the back exit of the restaurant.
“No competition, because you’re not trying to woo me. I’m your attorney and a very good one at that, which you need, since this is your third divorce and you didn’t have a prenuptial agreement.”
It was Richard’s turn to let out a belly laugh as our waiter returned with our drinks and took our dinner orders. I ordered the crab cakes with sweet potatoes and salad greens, while Richard opted for the porterhouse with a side of broccoli and cheddar mashed potatoes. When that was completed, we finally got down to business. Richard had his assistant email me over his financial records earlier in the week, along with his soon-to-be-ex-wife's demands. She was asking for half of his properties, which was ridiculous since they’d only been married three years and had no children together.
“So, you think you can help me, darlin’?” Richard asked as we finished up our dinner and I completed going over all of his options.
“Of course I can,ifyou make me one promise,” I stated seriously.
His hazel eyes zeroed in on me as he squinted. “What’s that?” Gone was the playful Richard, replaced by the cautious, business-savvy entrepreneur who knew not to agree to anything before terms were clear.
I leaned into the table. “You come to me the next time you decide to get married so we can write you up a proper prenup.”
He busted out laughing, but I sat back in my seat, serious. Richard was as smart as they came to business, but dumb in matters of love. He had a knack for real estate, and even during the economic downturn that had hit construction companies hard, he’d continued to thrive. When it came to business he reminded me of the very owner of this restaurant. That thought had my eyes floating toward the back exit, which was the last place I’d spotted Xavier. A part of me hoped I wouldn’t see him again before I was able to sneak out, while another part told me that was a lie.
“I’m sure I can do that,” Richard answered to my earlier proposition, bringing my attention back to the table.
“Good, then you’ve got yourself an attorney.” I extended my hand across the table for him to shake. In true Richard Crawford fashion, instead of a handshake, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “We’re going to have to do something about your flirting,” I grinned.
“Many have tried, all have failed.”
