“Fuck that. I told you I was Sherlock,” he replies with a smirk, stubbing his smoke out with the toe of his boot. He moves to stand in front of me and takes me by surprise when he gives my nose a little pinch. “Besides, you’re the one wearing the cute glasses.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s just so…charming. Once we’ve gotten everything inside, along with a large wheelie suitcase and two rucksacks, I ask him if he wants something to eat.
“Sure. Whatever you’re making smells delicious, and I’m famished,” he says, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze and then going into the living room to talk to Dad. I can still feel the pressure of his hand on me as I throw together a salad to go with the lasagne.
In the far corner of the kitchen is my dressmaking station, with my old sewing machine and all my fabrics. I eye it longingly, looking forward to finishing the evening gown I’m currently working on when I’m done with dinner. Dad and Jay’s conversation drifts in from the living room as they talk animatedly about Jay’s defamation case. I can tell Jay’s still set on convincing Dad to take him on as a client, and it baffles me. I just don’t get why he wants Dad to represent him so badly.
Setting the food on plates, I call them both in to sit at the table. As he takes the seat across from me, I notice Jay eyeing my T-shirt with a look on his face like he finds it amusing.
“Is that some kind of a euphemism?” he asks, and I can tell he’s trying to embarrass me.
Dad’s phone buzzes and he picks it up, typing out a message as he eats his food, not paying us any attention. So much for him taking a night off work.
“No,” I reply, annoyed. “It’s from a TV show I like.”
“Is it a pornography show?” His smirk grows into a full-on smile, and I can only be thankful that Dad’s engrossed in his phone right now.
My cheeks flush while Jay shovels a forkful of lasagne in his mouth, because there is quite a bit of sex in it. “There’s no such thing as a pornography show.” I scowl.
“Oh, I beg to differ.”
“Dick!” says Dad loudly as he answers his phone, picking up his plate and walking into the next room to take the call. “How are you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that meeting we had last week.”
There’s a long, long stretch of silence. That was hilarious, but I’m not going to laugh. Not. Going. To. Laugh. Unfortunately, the second I make eye contact with Jay, we both burst into a fit of laughter.
“Talk about perfect comedic timing,” I mutter.
“Yeah.” Jay grins. “And about the T-shirt, I was only pulling your leg, Watson. Winter is coming and all that jazz.”
“You’re cruel!”
“Only when it makes you blush.”
And now I’m blushing even harder. I start eating my dinner with gusto so that I don’t have to talk. When I regain the ability to speak, I ask, “So why did you leave that card on my phone?”
He looks up at me as he swallows. “Who in the what now?”
“My phone. I found it in the office with a six of hearts on top.”
His smile brings out his dimples again. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“Yeah, so why did you do it?” I dig my fork into the salad.
“I didn’t do anything.”
Furrowing my brow, I try to backtrack through my day. Just before lunch I’d put my phone in my bag, and then I’d brought the bag with me into the bathroom. As I was leaving the bathroom, Jay showed up in the office and we left. At no point would he have had the chance to swipe the phone.
“Wow. You’re good,” I breathe. “I know you took it — I just can’t figure out when or how.”
His smile grows wider as he chews on his food. Then his voice deepens as he replies, “You don’t know the half of how good I am.”
Okay, no way am I touching that one. “So, uh, has your show been completely cancelled, then?”
He shrugs. “It’s all up in the air at the moment. They haven’t said it’s cancelled, but they haven’t said it isn’t cancelled, either. I have a meeting tomorrow, but I doubt I’ll be given any real answers. It all depends on the case. If I can clear my name, then I’m hoping we can get back to filming. But that’s going to take forever, and even if I am in the clear, there’s still a chance it won’t go ahead. Accusations stain your rep even after you’re found innocent, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I think I can convince your Dad to take the case, though,” he says then, voice low.
I sigh. “Why are you so determined for him to do it?”