When the gallery owner said that the collector had left satisfied with her purchase and the earlier conversation, Amanda arranged to meet Sam at the bar in the hotel where he had a reservation for the night.
At eight-thirty, he was waiting for her with a glass of her favorite wine and a space next to him in an intimate booth. He had the same grin on his face he’d had in the gallery.
They clinked glasses and sipped. “I still can’t believe you’re really here,” she said. “That you drove all the way here for the opening. But I’m awfully glad to see you. We have so much to catch up on. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Why don’t we start by figuring out a place to eat? Any ideas about where you’d like to go?”
“About that,” she said as she pulled an iPhone out of her small purse.
His expression went from warm affection to cool distance and he sat back in the booth, watching her. “It’s okay. If you can’t do dinner, we can just talk until we finish the wine. At least I’ll have had a chance to see you … ”
“Stop over-analyzing, Detective Richardson. I’m not looking at the time because I’m planning to ditch you, I’m figuring out how long it’s been since I let the beast out.”
“What beast?”
“Chihuly.”
“Dale Chihuly, the famous glass artist?” He sounded confused.
“No, Chihuly my curly coated retriever puppy. He and all his litter mates were named for people with curly black hair.”
The affectionate smile was back. “And how is it having a puppy to take care of?”
“A challenge. Among other things, he chews on anything he can get his mouth around when he’s been left alone too long. Which is why I’m looking at the time.” She slipped the phone back into her purse. “Why don’t you come home with me while I take care of him and then we can eat in the neighborhood?”
• • •
Chihuly and Sam were introduced. The dog was walked, watered and fed. Her shoes now safe from her pet’s mouth for another couple hours, Amanda led Sam to the Italian restaurant a block away. After they’d ordered, she said, “You haven’t asked the obvious question yet about whether I’m coming back to Portland. How come?”
“Thought I’d enjoy the evening before I hear the answer I think I already know.” He took a sip of wine. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you look this happy. And I can hear the excitement when you talk about your work. It must have been a great residency.”
“Beyond my wildest dreams. You saw some of the work tonight. It’ll take years to exhaust what I learned there.”
“So, let’s put off the bad news ’til I kiss you good night.”
“What makes you think that’s gonna happen, Sam?”
He picked up his wine glass and took another swallow, avoiding her eyes. “I guess I’m not surprised. Your emails lately could have been sent by my sister and we haven’t talked in a week or so.” He swirled the wine in his glass for a few moments, then sat up and turned to face her. “On second thought, might as well get it over with. I assume you won’t be coming back to Portland. That right? ”