Ethan nodded, still looking at him with a cool expression. When his attention swept down over Gideon’s rumpled and dusty clothing, he felt the other man’s opinion chill even further. “Looks like you were doing more than just ‘seeing how things were going.’”
“Poor H.—I mean Gideon, took a little spill in the back,” Fiona replied with a giggle underscoring her words. “He got his nice clothing all messed up.”
“Well, I guess I’d best be going,” said Forth in a slightly too-loud voice as if tired of being left out of the conversation. He offered his hand to the skeptical Ethan. “Bradley Forth. I’m running for state senator here in this district, and I—”
“Chicago,” the other man replied briefly. “Save your pitch. I live in Chicago.”
“Right, then. Well, goodbye, Fiona. I hope to see you later tonight.”
She made a non-committal reply, and the way she eagerly opened the door for him made Gideon feelslightlybetter. Ethan was still eyeing him suspiciously, and he knew he had no further excuse to stay.
But he really needed to talk to her. About that kiss.
Before he could figure out what to do, the door tinkled openagain.
What was this, Grand Central Station?
This time, an elegant, expensively-dressed woman in her early thirties stepped inside. She, Gideon noted immediately, was definitely more his type: conservative and stylish in attire and manner, with her lush dark hair coiffed in neat waves. She looked like the sort of professional, career-minded woman he was used to being around.
“Oh, Fiona,” she said as she looked around, then clasped her hands over her breast. “It’s beautiful in here. Sorry I’m late—I went next door to look inside; their merchandise is a little heavy on the black colors for me. But this place—yourplace is…just wonderful.” She seemed to notice Gideon for the first time. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had a customer,” she said quickly—and her demeanor eased into something more remote and businesslike.
“Oh, he’s not a customer,” Fiona said brightly, then gushed, “Itisbeautiful, isn’t it, Diana?”
“This is the attorney who handled the estate,” Ethan said to Diana, still giving Gideon a cool look. But when he slipped his arm around her waist in a proprietary way, he unwittingly answered Gideon’s unspoken question.
“And I was just leaving,” he said smoothly, feeling slightly mollified. Whoever Ethan was, he was involved with Diana and not Fiona.
“Well, thanks for stopping by, H. Gideon,” Fiona said with a warm smile.
Gideon looked for another message in her eyes—something that indicated she wanted to speak with him also, that the kiss had effected her too—but there was nothing but the same warm amber sparkle there. “I really appreciate you returning that compact.”
With nothing left to say, Gideon nodded at Ethan and Diana, then made his exit.
* * *
Although five-thirty was uncomfortably early for dinner on a Saturday, Gideon was relieved to discover that Trib’s was not only trendy, comfortable, and pleasingly appointed, but also had a surprisingly upscale menu as well as an extensive wine list that offered two different sized pours. Their table was situated near the back of the restaurant under what appeared to be an authentic Andy Warhol print, and he noticed several other prints by the artist—most likely copies, as they included the famous Tomato Soup and Marilyn Monroe images—throughout the place.
Gideon was impressed in spite of himself. Maybe Wicks Hollow, which he’d always though of as a kitschy tourist trap, had more to offer than he’d realized.
“Have a seat, Gideon, dear,” Iva said, patting the chair next to her. With round, pink cheeks, a hairdo of soft white hair that reminded him of cotton candy, and sparkling blue eyes, the sixty-ish woman had become quite dear to him over the last six months.
“You look lovely tonight, Iva,” he said, giving her a hug and kiss before taking his seat. “Grandfather, you look quite rested yourself.” He reached over to shake hands with him. “Apparently, vacationing agrees with you.”
“I’ve got a great traveling partner,” replied Gideon Senior, smiling down at Iva. “Now if only I could get her to agree to marry me.”
“Now, Hollis, let’s not rush things. We’re having such a wonderful time. There’s no reason for you to rush to—as they say—put a ring on it.” She giggled and held up her left hand, which was bare of jewelry. “Gideon, thank you for joining us. I know this is abominably early for you for dinner, but you know how we senior citizens are. We turn into pumpkins at nine p.m.!”
“I’ve missed our bi-monthly dinners,” Gideon said, not at all surprised to realize it was true. “And I had some business to attend to here in Wicks Hollow, so it worked out quite well.”
“The pizza here is fantastic,” his grandfather said, ogling the menu. “Highly recommend it. The Wise Guy is my favorite—it’s got sausage, smoked mozzarella, and caramelized onions. In fact, I think that’s what I’ll have tonight…” He trailed off when he realized Iva was looking at him with raised eyebrows and a pointed expression. “Ahem. Maybe I should have the salmon instead.”
“A much healthier choice, darling,” she said, looking back at the menu. Without glancing up at Gideon, she said for his benefit, “Your grandfather’s doctor is concerned about his cholesterol.”
“Well if that’s all I’ve got to worry about at seventy-three, then that’s pretty minor,” Gideon Senior grumbled. “Don’t know why I can’t have a pizza once in a while.”
Iva looked at him innocently. “Why, of course, Hollis. No one said you couldn’t.”
But when the server came, he ordered the salmon and a glass of red wine. “Red wine’s good for you,” he said, drawing his bushy brows together as if to ward off further commentary from Iva.
