“And I interrupted you.”
“Yes.” Another pause. “Why?”
“I...” I fingered the strap of my purse. There was no way I could explain the protective instinct that had propelled me across the bar. “You looked uncomfortable.”
“And being an American, you felt you needed to ride to the rescue.”
“Something like that. You’re welcome,” I added pointedly.
“Oh. Ah, thank you.” He looked at me, a speculative gleam in his eyes. Or maybe that was his glasses. “May I buy you a drink?”
Did he think I washittingon him? “I have a drink.” I waved my hand. “Over there.”
“Very good.”
I glanced toward the assassins’ table. Lovely Laura looked up from her conversation and smiled pleasantly. “Would... Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“Why?” he asked again.
Asshole. “Because everybody over there is watching us, and if you don’t have dinner with me now, they’re going to wonder why.”
His lips compressed briefly, as if he were in pain. “Very well. If you’re sure.”
“I’m not asking you to pay.”
“I thought you might be dining with someone else,” he said stiffly.
“Oh. No. Only Anne Shirley.”
“Excuse me?”
“I brought a book.”
Did his mouth actually relax a fraction? “Never trust anyone who hasn’t brought a book with them.”
“Lemony Snicket!” I exclaimed, delighted.
He blinked. Right. He was not quoting one of my favorite children’s authors. He’d probably never even readA Series of Unfortunate Events.
“If we’re going to have dinner, I should probably know your name,” I said.In case I want to Google you later. Or file a police report.
“Woodman. Tim.”
“Like, Bond, James?”
“You’re quite safe,” he said, deadpan. “I left my license to kill at home.”
I was almost sure he was joking. “Haha. I’m Dee.”
“So you said.” He paused expectantly.
Nuh-uh. Nope. No last name. I didn’t want him Googling me. “My table’s over here.”
He followed, waiting as I slid into the banquette before taking the chair across from me. Old-fashioned manners. Aunt Em would have approved.
“Perhaps I can buy you a refill.” He looked at my almost untouched drink. “Or something else. They do a very nice gin cocktail here.”
Washehitting onme? But no. There was no vibe. No threat. Nothing in his voice besides polite disinterest.
