He nodded and left.
“All this time you were here and you didn’t bother looking at the menu?” Blackwell leaned forward.
“No. I was busy waging war with the air. But your choice sounded appealing. I love tiramisu.” Lucia shrugged.
“Hmm. Is that why you asked it like a question?”
“Well, you could have rejected me copying your order.”
“An interesting thought, though I’d be wary of people who’d take such ownership of a particular drink or dish.”
“And I shouldn’t be wary of you?” Lucia asked.
“I suppose that depends on your intentions.”
Lucia stilled.
Blackwell studied Lucia with that intense focus that made Lucia want to fidget.
“Whatareyour intentions, Ms.Rossi?”
“I thought you wanted us to be less formal?”
“And I thought you liked it—a certain amount of formality.”
Lucia swallowed hard.
Chapter 6
Falling
“My intentions?” Lucia canted her head. “I’d like to enjoy my cappuccino and dessert while learning more about you.”
Penelope leaned back in her chair. “I see.”
She had changed her outfitfivetimes before finally settling on something professional, understated, and, she hoped, unremarkable. Yet her bun felt too severe, her blouse too precise, her posture too deliberate. She’d brought the jacket because she’d expected to be cold in the café, yet her body flushed under Lucia’s bottomless gaze, even as her mind protested this ridiculousness.
“Is that acceptable, or do I need to watch my back?”
“I’m not sure how much your general life choices expose your back, but you’re safe from me.”
Lucia leaned forward. “Why do I hear a ‘for now’ hanging in the air?”
“Perhaps because you’re more perceptive than most,” Penelope said, then thanked the server who brought out their orders.
“Thank you.” Lucia pulled her mug closer. “Comes with the territory.”
“Your art restoration?”
“Yes, though more so my…personal work in the field.”
“You’re an artist? What medium?”
“Is someone really an artist just because they produce art, even if no one ever sees it?”
“Of course, you said it yourself: They produce art. What else would they be?”
“An aficionado?” Lucia gave a wry smile. “I paint. Anything and everything, really.”
