“That doesn’t give us much time, but we’ll do some role-playing. Although I’m not current on what art bloggers want to know.” His smile flashed.
She laid her hand on his forearm, feeling like a drowning person who’d been thrown a lifeline. “Would you really do that with me?”
“As a lawyer, I’m responsible for coaching witnesses on their testimony, so this is just part of the job. Especially since you’ve retained me.”
“Oh right. I keep forgetting I sleep with my legal advisor. Does that reduce the fee?”
“You want me to take it out in trade?” His eyebrows rose as he cast a sideways glance at her. “That could be arranged.”
He parked the ’Vette with a flourish and came around the car to help her out. Her high-heeled strappy purple sandals made her teeter on the gravel, and his arm instantly went around her. His hand splayed over the side of her hip, its warmth and strength easily penetrating the thin taffeta.
They strolled along a stone path that wound through beds of fragrant antique roses, showy peonies, and splashy poppies before they reached a stone house with multipaned windows glowing from within and a steady hum of voices wafting through its open front door.
“Paul, my friend, we have a table for you upstairs,” the maître d’ said as they entered. He collected two menus and led them through the dining room.
From every other table they passed, someone called out a greeting to her escort. As he had at the Black Bear, Paul smiled and nodded and kept propelling her forward with his hand. Only one diner, an older man, actively tried to waylay them, and Paul dodged him with a quip and a brief squeeze of the man’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Joe,” Paul said, taking the menus as the maître d’ held Julia’s chair. “It’s exactly what I asked for.”
“What did you ask for?” Julia asked after Joe left.
“A table in the quietest, darkest corner he had available.”
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?”
His smile was rueful. “People forget I’m not the mayor anymore. They want to talk.”
“I could tell by our procession through the main dining room.”
“Maybe I should have gone with my first instinct, which was dinner at my house.” His smile went a little awry. “But I have the right to take a beautiful woman out to a nice restaurant.”
She reached across the table and wrapped her fingers around his. “If anyone other than our waiter comes up to the table, I’ll be very rude. It doesn’t matter if people here don’t like me, since I’ll be leaving soon.”
A strange expression crossed his face. His smile and eyes softened, but there was an almost sad wistfulness about him.
“Joe promised to seat only out-of-towners up here tonight,” he said, handing her a menu.
“Good evening, Mr. Taggart. Joe asked me to take care of you tonight.” A slim brunette in her thirties, dressed in the wait-staff’s uniform of blue shirt, black tie, and black slacks, appeared at their table.
“Since when am I Mr. Taggart to you, Lisa?”
Lisa smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. She was quite beautiful, and Julia felt a twinge of jealousy. “Since you’re the customer, and I’m the waitress.”
“Lisa, this is Julia Castillo. Julia, Lisa Miller. We went to school together from the third grade on and she married my old drinking buddy Louie.”
Julia relaxed at the word married. “Do you have any good stories about Paul?”
“You’d have to ask my husband,” Lisa said. “He and Paul were always getting called to the principal’s office, and I wanted nothing to do with them.” Lisa lifted her pad and pen. “No more fraternizing. Pretend I’m just a waitress you don’t know.”
“Is there anyone in this town he doesn’t know?” Julia asked.
Lisa smiled. “That’s why he has to pretend. Now how about a cocktail?”
“I think we’ll have champagne,” Paul said.
“Oh, one piece of good news, and I’ll get you our best bottle. Jimmy and Eric are going camping with us after all. Terri was willing to switch weekends.”
Paul picked up a spoon and began spinning it through his fingers. “Jimmy gave me the good news yesterday. Eric would have been really disappointed to miss the trip.”
“You’re invited too,” Lisa said. “We’ve got an extra tent.”
He shook his head with what looked like genuine regret. “Wish I could, but I’m committed to the theater auction.”
“That’s a shame. All the boys love it when you come.” Lisa flipped her ponytail back over her shoulder. “All right, no more chatting, I swear.”