Chapter 2
“I went there last week with a friend, if we’re thinking about the same one.” When he named the restaurant, she nodded. “It is.” She took out her phone, scrolled through it to, he figured, her appointment calendar. “I’m free tomorrow night. Shall we say at seven-thirty? And Mister…Well, you never did introduce yourself.”
“Blaine Ayers.”
“Mr. Ayers, please bring copies of all the information I’ll need about your nascent business.”
“Of course. Would you like me to make a reservation?”
She smiled, tapping a bright red fingernail on the phone, then said a moment later, “All taken care of.I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Do be on time. I hate to be kept waiting, even by someone a good-looking as you.” With that, she walked away, stopping to talk with several other people as she made her way out of the ballroom where she’d given her speech.
* * * *
“The bitch agreed to dinner,” Blaine said to Lloyd the moment he walked into the condo he and his brother shared. Of course, as far as the building management and their neighbors were concerned, only Blaine lived there. Whenever anyone saw one or the other of them, they presumed it was Blaine. But then that was the idea.
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.” Blaine took the glasses he’d been wearing from his pocket, putting them down on the coffee table. “We’d better decide what we’re going to wear—besides the glasses—down to the color of our socks. It wouldn’t do for some waiter at the restaurant to notice I had on black ones and you’re wearing navy blue when you’re at Departure. Of course the chances the cops will put things together and come looking for me are nil, but…”
“The devil’s in the details, as always. Being prepared will keep that from happening.” Lloyd rapped his knuckles on the wooden side table. “Have you picked the spot yet?”
“More or less. My car will be parked in a back corner of one of the levels in the garage, away from prying eyes.”
“Of course it won’t be your car,” Lloyd said, stating the obvious.
“Nope.” Blaine chuckled. “Imagine how the real owner will feel when he returns to it. I’ll either offer Ms. Hawthorne a ride home, if she came by cab, or ask her if she’d mind our stopping by my car before she leaves so I can give her some paperwork I inadvertently left in it. Damn, I hope she’s not a teetotaler.”
“For sure. Okay, let’s work out the details down to, as you put it, the color of socks we’ll be wearing. But not right now. I’m beat.”
Blaine snorted. “You’ve been sitting here watching whatever—” he gestured toward the big-screen TV, “—while I was attending her speech. What have you got to be tired about?”
“Maybe I didn’t stay home?”
“Lloyd.” Blaine shot him a dour look.
“Okay, I did. I’m not stupid.”
“I know. After tomorrow night you can be the one who gets to go out and play.”
Lloyd grinned. “Dinner and a movie with the sweet Ms. Jennifer in 403?”
“Whatever turns you on. It is your turn. Hell, maybe next time we’ll use her as our alibi.”
“As infatuated as she is with you, getting into her bed should be no problem. Something to consider.” Lloyd got up. “For now, though, I’m off to my own lonely bed.”
“You and me both.” Blaine headed to his room, feeling almost euphoric as he thought about the next evening and what would happen with Ms. Hawthorne.
* * * *
“Would you care for another drink, Ms. Hawthorne?” Blaine asked, smiling across the table at her.
“Blaine, I think it’s time we were on a first name basis. Please call me Melissa.”
“Only if it’s your real name,” he teased, trying not to wince when she giggled. You’re too old to be doing that.
They had been at the restaurant for half an hour and already she’d downed one martini while discussing his business plans over appetizers. Now, he saw their waitress approaching with their meals.
“I think I switch to wine,” Ms. Hawthorne said, seductively licking the last drop of her drink from the rim of the glass. She told the waitress the same thing when she asked if they needed anything else.
“We’ll both have wine,” Blaine said. “A cabernet sauvignon. It goes well with steak.” After the waitress left, Blaine said, as he waited for Ms. Hawthorne to begin eating, “Do you think my plans stand a chance of succeeding?”
“Let’s not talk about them right now,” she replied. “I’d like to know more about you as a person.”She reached over to pat his hand. “And why don’t you take off your glasses? I bet you’re even more handsome without them.”
“And blind as a bat,” he replied with a rueful smile. “You’d be a blur and nothing more, which would be a shame in my opinion. Anyway, there’s not much to tell. I grew up back east, went to college, and then got a job out here. I’ve been with the company for the last two years.”
She took a bite of her steak, washing it down with a sip of wine as soon as the waitress set the glass down. “That was a very short synopsis,” she said to Blaine. “What do you do for entertainment? Do youhave a girlfriend, or perhaps…” She blatantly looked at his ring finger. “No wife, I presume.”
Blaine shook his head. “Neither one, at the moment. I spend my free time, what I have of it, going to movies or the theater.”
“Unfortunately, at this point, so do I,” she replied, looking at him from under lowered eyelashes.