“Not right then, but yes, before he got back on the stage.”
“So about forty-five minutes later.”
Laurel was reluctant to admit it. “Yes. Impulsive, wasn’t it?”
“Not a sin,” said Call. “Out of character, perhaps.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“How long before you regretted the offer?”
“Days, but it was at least a month before I admitted it to myself.”
“Do you know why you were uncomfortable around him?”
“Yes.”
When she did not elaborate, Call asked, “Are you going to tell me?”
“No. I don’t think I will.”
Her refusal told him quite a bit, he decided. It was personal, not work related. Call didn’t press for more information. “I was in Sweeny’s tonight. I asked after him while I was there. It seems he mostly kept to himself.”
“I’d agree with that.”
“I learned he spent a fair amount of time at the brothel.”
“Mrs. Fry’s place. I don’t know about that. The boys might. Maybe Rooster.”
“I’ll ask.”
Laurel drew her braid forward over her shoulder and fingered it. Up and down. Up and down. Working up to asking the question that had been uppermost in her mind.He seemed to know it, too, because he let her sit there in silence and didn’t feel a need to fill it. “Why are you doing this?” she finally asked. “Why did you accept the job?”
“There are a few different answers to that, all of them true, some of them truer than others. Are you sure you want to know?”
“I asked,” she said. “Yes, I want to know. I want to know the truest answer.”
“All right, but don’t make me sorry I told you. Don’t suddenly get up like you forgot something you have to do and disappear on me.”
“I don’t run.”
“Mm. Let’s see. Here it is: I took Mr. Stonechurch up on his offer because it was an opportunity to see you again.” Call waited to see if she would say something. She didn’t. She didn’t move either. She was so still that she might have been stone. “Are you breathing? Doesn’t seem as if you’re breathing.”
“Yes, I’m breathing.” In fact, her breath had caught for a moment and the next breath she captured was shallow. There was no reason to tell him that. “You must think a lot of yourself if you believe I’d be so flattered that I’d cease to breathe.”
Call shrugged. “I’ve seen it happen.”
“You’re either a liar or a braggart. Neither quality recommends your character.”
He chuckled low in his throat. “True. What about your heart? Did it skip a beat?”
Laurel smirked. “Uh-huh. Tripped right over itself.”
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you? I hear mocking.”
“I’m smirking, too.”
“Can’t see that. Not sure smirking is an attractive expression for you.”
