Gabe smiled at her as the waiter brought their wine. “Are you as nervous as I am?”
She sipped her wine. “That depends. Is your pulse racing? Do you feel like you might vomit at any moment?”
“Check and check. Plus I had to change my shirt twice before I left the house tonight, because of all the flop sweat.”
She laughed. “Okay, I didn’t require a wardrobe change, which makes me feel marginally better, so thanks for that.”
“It’s just dinner. That’s what I’ve been telling myself all night. Right? Dinner with an old friend and colleague.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded and sipped her wine.
He took a gulp of his own wine. “I’m sixty-three, by the way.”
“Okay…”
“I just thought I’d get that out of the way. In case you were wondering and trying to figure out if I really am too old for you, which I hope I’m not.”
“I’ve got a confession to make,” Brooke said, emboldened by the wine. “I already knew that. I checked on Martindale-Hubbell.”
“I Googled and checked you on LinkedIn,” he countered. “Very impressive. I’d forgotten you graduated near the top of your class.”
“So we’re two smarty-pants lawyers. We should be able to get through a simple no-risk dinner together, right?”
“Not a problem,” he said. “And since you mentioned the lawyer thing, I’ve got good news. The court appointed me administrator of Josephine’s estate today.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
“One of the circuit judges was a law school classmate of mine,” Gabe said.
“Ah yes, the good-old-boy network,” Brooke said, hoping she didn’t sound bitter.
“In this case, it was helpful. We can speed things up and start wrapping up Josephine’s estate.”
“It’s hard for me to believe she’s gone,” Brooke said wistfully. “Even though I only knew her for a short time, and of course, her illness diminished her on an hourly basis, she was such a strong life force with such an amazing story to tell.”
“I agree. It’s sad.”
“I’m really pissed she died without telling us who killed Russell Strickland or where the body is buried,” Brooke admitted. “My one hope is that Lizzie really will be able to unravel all of Josephine’s secrets while she’s staying at Shellhaven.”
Gabe frowned. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for Lizzie to be living there. I mean, I personally don’t really have a problem with it, but as administrator, once I track down those cousins of hers—the heirs apparent, as it were—they might not like it at all.”
“It’s not like she’s moving in for the rest of her life,” Brooke protested. “And it’s a good thing that Shellhaven isn’t empty, with Josephine gone now. What’s it going to hurt?”
“Maybe you’re right,” Gabe said hastily. “Anyway, for the short term, I suppose it’s okay.”
Their appetizers arrived then, and the discussion segued into favorite restaurants, gossip about Savannah, old clients, and mutual friends.
It wasn’t until their desserts arrived—chocolate sea salt gelato with biscotti for her, a glass of port for him—that Brooke realized two hours had flown by.
She dug out the last bite of gelato with the tip of a biscotti, tasted, and rolled her eyes. “So good.”
“Like this evening,” Gabe said, watching her over the rim of his glass. “I love seeing you like this, Brooke.”
He reached over with his napkin and dabbed at a bit of gelato on thecorner of her mouth. His hand lingered there for only a moment, but she felt herself blushing.
“You mean with food all over my face? That’s an everyday occurrence. I’m an even messier eater than my three-year-old.”
“He’s a pretty cute kid, by the way. No, I meant seeing you relaxed, enjoying yourself, just being yourself.”
