The wild roll of her eyes caught my attention. My bestie was nothing if not dramatic. As an art critic, she used her expansivecommand of the English language to often obliterate budding artists and haughty gallery owners alike.
“Tell me more about Maverick Callahan. He sounds fascinating and very… very sexy.”
“He’s an honorable man.”
“Ah, I see what you’re doing. You refuse to think of him as your fantasy man. How are you going to handle the date?” When I didn’t answer her right away, she laughed. “You haven’t asked him yet.”
“I’ve been a little busy, the party the last detail on my mind.”
“You better get cracking. Men take more time to get ready for these things than women do.”
She had me laughing again, which was exactly what I needed. “Maybe so.”
“You’ve been so different the last few weeks, distant. That’s why you shocked the hell out of me.” Sandra leaned over the table, shaking her head as she studied me. I could tell the girl was about ready to launch into providing a list of what vitamins I needed.
Drugs might be the answer, but were far less wholesome.
“Yeah, well, Betty urged me to take the afternoon off.”
“Ah. You weren’t but so interested in spending time with your bestie.”
After pulling my arm free, I took a sip of my chardonnay. “Very funny. I’m attempting to keep my eye on the ball. While extremely remote, there’s a chance an innocent man could be put to death and you’re curious how my sex life is going?”
Shit. Big mistake made on my part. Why hadn’t I caught myself? When Sandra’s eyes opened wide, I knew she had no intention of letting my faux paus fade away.
“Ooh-la-la. You slept with him. Why didn’t I see it before? Your nervousness. Your sudden agreement to purchase a dress, which usually takes an act of God. I take back everything I said about you being a prude. You’re one hot mama.”
“Stop it. He was the FBI agent on duty. I read his book and his words intrigued me.”
“On duty?” Her laugh could easily be heard throughout the restaurant. “Nice try, girl. I know all the gory details. Remember?”
Her exclamation drew the attention of the man Maverick had hired.
“Honey. He’s been your greatest fantasy. Come to think of it,” she added while tapping her fingers on the table, “your only fantasy. I know with absolute certainty he’s a hottie. You have the dress. You have the perfect reason to ask him out. Just do it. What will it hurt?”
“You mean other than my level of professionalism?”
She rolled her eyes again; she usually did so more than once when we were together. “I think the statute of limitations has run out. You’re allowed to enjoy time with a sexy guy. It doesn’t matter who he was a million years ago.”
“How do you know he’s sexy? He could be an old man with gnarled fingers for all you know.”
I’d be damned if she didn’t grab her huge purse off the back of the chair, the one large enough to hold her kitchen sink,and riffle through the items inside. When she pulled his latest hardback edition into the light, I cringed.
“You bought his book?” My voice was strained. Now my heart was skipping beats from the wild fluctuation of my pulse.
“Of course I did. You were extremely excited when you were providing details. You piqued my interest. When I noticed the photograph on the back, I was even more intrigued. Besides, this entire scenario is better than any contrived drama. And look at that face. Look at it.” When I didn’t obey her, she shoved the book into my face. “Admit it.”
“Fine. He’s handsome.” He was more than just a handsome man. He was debonair and rugged, gifted with sophistication while being wrapped in several dangerous elements. Just seeing his impish smile did crazy things to my lady parts.
“Now that we’ve established you at least want to sleep with him, which is a clear indication you’re not dead, then tell me what he had to say about your concerns.”
I’d told her just enough on the phone to entice her into accepting my offer for lunch. “That the phone call was likely from a copycat and that there were files of evidence on the man sitting behind bars indicating he was guilty so I could stop worrying.”
“There you go,” Sandra said and pushed her plate away, waving her hand as if she’d settled everything.
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you can feel free to date your hero.”
