Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Uncomfortable and blah.
“I’m meeting someone here,” I said to the maître d’. “Roy Wolfe.”
“Yes, Mr. Wolfe has already arrived. Let me show you to his table.”
His table. Not your table. As if Roy was the important one, and I was nothing more than his arm candy for the evening.
As I glanced around the posh restaurant, I saw that most of this evening’s arm candy were dressed a lot better than I was.
Oh, well. He knew I’d be coming straight from work.
Roy stood as I approached the table.
God, could he be any sexier? His hair was in his signature slicked-back low ponytail, and he wore a navy-blue suit and tie.
Yes, a tie!
I’d never seen him wear one. The Red Room must have required it. I couldn’t imagine him wearing that noose around his neck for any other reason.
The navy-blue suit, though. He’d seen what I was wearing, slacks and all. Had he worn basically the same thing on purpose? We looked like the Bobbsey twins on career day.
“Nice suit,” I said, sitting down.
The maître d’ placed my napkin in my lap. “Your server will be right with you.”
“Thank you, Hans,” Roy said.
“Seriously,” I said again, when Hans had left. “Nice suit.”
He smiled, one eyebrow rising just a touch.
“You did this on purpose,” I said.
“Couldn’t help myself.”
“I didn’t know you even owned a tie.”
“I own a few, actually.”
“Why are you making fun of me?”
“Making fun of you? What are you talking about?”
“Did you really have to wear the exact same color I’m wearing?”
“I’m an artist,” he said. “Did you ever stop to think this might be my only suit?”
I hedged a moment. Then, “That’s bullshit. You’re a Wolfe. You could have gone out and bought a suit for tonight if you wanted.”
He smiled. “Actually, I own about ten. I hate them all.”
“Why the navy blue? Why tonight?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I was feeling feisty, I guess.”
“Feisty? I’d say you were feeling like you wanted to mock me. Mock me for wearing professional attire to work. For staying at work late so I could do a good job.”
“I admire your work ethic, Charlie. I share it, in fact.”
“When it comes to your art.”
“Well…yes. My art is my work.”
“That’s the difference between us, Roy. I appreciate your work. I fully support what you do. You, however, don’t afford me the same courtesy.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it’s true! You hate the clothes I wear to work. You set me up with watercolors and asked me to paint you. Yes, I love art. I might even have a little talent. But it’s not my life’s work like it is yours.”
“Being someone’s assistant is your life’s work? You’re better than that, Charlie.”
“Being Lacey’s assistant is extremely rewarding.”
“Having someone bark orders at you?”
“Have you met Lacey? She doesn’t bark orders at anyone. Why are you being such an asshole?”
He didn’t reply, just looked down at his menu.
And it struck me. He didn’t know why he was being an asshole.
But I did.
Something was consuming him. Eating at him. Eating him alive. “What is it, Roy? What did Rock tell you in that meeting? About your sister?”
He didn’t reply.
“All right. We don’t have to talk about it. But something is bothering you. I’d be an idiot if I couldn’t see it.”
He twisted his lips, still staring at his menu. “The foie gras is excellent here.”
“I don’t eat liver.”
“This isn’t liver. It’s foie gras.”
“Potato, po-tah-toe.”
That got a smile out of him.
He didn’t want to tell me? Fine. Two could play this game. I opened my menu. “I think I’ll start with the calamari.”
“You don’t eat liver, but you eat squid?”
“Not squid. Calamari.” I gave him a saucy smile.
“Mind sharing?”
“What about your foie gras?”
“Reid eats it. I actually hate the stuff.”
I couldn’t help myself. I burst out in laughter. All right. Things were calming down now. The server returned and Roy ordered the calamari and a bourbon. Funny, I didn’t mind him ordering the calamari for me. Maybe because we were going to share it.
Maybe because he wasn’t Blaine Foster.
“Just a glass of water for now,” I said, when the server nodded to me.
“Not drinking tonight?” he asked.
“I might have a glass of wine with my dinner. I don’t want to overdo it. I have to be in the office early tomorrow.”
“Meeting?”
“No. Just a lot of work to do.”
Go ahead, I dared him in my mind. Comment about my work again. I double dare you. I triple dog dare you.
He kept his mouth shut.
I perused the menu, deciding on an entrée. Trout amandine sounded good. Or the salmon. I wasn’t much into red meat.
“Charlie,” Roy began.
I looked up and met his gaze. “Yeah?”
“Did you find a therapist for Lacey?”
“Several, actually. I sent her an email before I left. I was able to talk to all of them and explain the situation, and they all felt they could help her.”