Damn. I need to get it together.
The waiter arrives a few minutes later, and I realize I hadn’t studied the menu.
“You go first,” I point to Rand.
He frowns. “You sure?”
I nod.
“Okay, I’ll take the tricolor tortellini with the side Caesar salad.”
My stomach rumbles. Rand laughs. And damn if my indigestion doesn’t kick up a notch. I rub my sternum. “I’ll have the grilled salmon Caesar salad. And a Sprite, please.”
“Very well,” the waiter writes down the orders, takes our menus, and heads toward the open kitchen.
“You okay?” Rand reaches for my hand. I let him close his fingers around mine, and an electric shock races up my arm.
It’s the same electric shock I felt when we talked at Celia’s wedding. He shook my hand and my world at the same time. All I can think to do is nod and sip my water until my alarm goes off, reminding me it’s time for my medication. I reluctantly pull my hand from Rand’s, reach into my purse for my pillbox, then dump my meds into my palm. A second later, they’re down the hatch, hopefully on the way to making my anxiety a little less noticeable.
Rand clocks the meds but says nothing about it. Instead, he changes the subject. “How was your interview?”
I tilt my head to get a good look at him. I can’t remember the last time a guy let me order first in a restaurant or asked me how my day was going. Usually, it was all about them, them, them.
“Well, it was interesting,” I began.
Rand smiles.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, so you really want to know? Fine. I met with the outgoing Special Agent In Charge and a few other people. We talked about their cases, similar to those I’ve worked on in the last few years. They quizzed me on procedure, strategies, operations. The usual.”
“Somehow, I think your ‘usual’ and mine might be slightly different,” Rand points at me.
I laugh. “No doubt about it. I catch criminals. You’re over in your fancy labs cooking up the latest technology that won’t be available to consumers for probably five years.”
Rand’s smile is blinding, and damn if his green eyes don’t twinkle. “Is that what you think I do in the lab?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “You’re in there…sciencingit up, then charming the pants off of clients.”
Rand barks out a laugh that causes everyone in the restaurant to turn toward us. My face flushes a deep red. I try to sink under the table, but Rand’s hand stops me. “Where are you going?”
I shake my head. “Nowhere.”
The laughter dies from his lips, and I feel sad to see it go. “I’m sorry I embarrass you.”
I open my mouth to tell him he’s wrong, but the waiter interrupts us with our lunch. Rand reaches for his fork, and I put my hand over his. “Rand. I’m sorry. That probably looked bad.”
“You think?”
“It’s not you.”
“Sure. I get it. Let’s just eat.”
His dismissal feels like a punch to the gut. If I could curl into a little ball right now, I would. But being as I’m 5’10” - it’s quite a challenge. Plus, I’m not sure Sol would appreciate the Carolina-boulder in his restaurant.
I sigh and begin picking through my salad.
My appetite has left the building.
Chapter 16
