Page 24 of No Headlines Please

I was.

And I wasn't.

Unlike my candy-ass brother, I had never been afraid to get my hands dirty if someone crossed a line.

I shrugged. "Maybe civilized is relative."

Before either of us could say more, the first round of food arrived – three miniature cups of soup for each of us, artfully arranged on two long white plates. Each soup was different – classic lobster bisque, French onion topped with bubbling gruyère, and chilled cucumber-avocado topped with tiny curls of crab.

From the same serving tray, the waiter delivered to each of us half-portions of seared scallops, plated with precision.

After the waiter left, Delaney stared down at the food. "Wow," she breathed. "It looks too pretty to touch."

Maybe. But I wasn't looking at the food. "That reminds me."

She looked up. "What?"

"There's something I should have said already."

"Oh? And what's that?"

I met her gaze. "You look beautiful."

For some reason, this made her laugh. "What you really mean is that I cleaned up nice."

I got what she meant. But the truth was, I'd thought she was beautiful long before she'd changed clothes. At the memory of her standing there holding that ridiculous flower pot, I almost smiled.

Instead, I reached for my wine glass and took a careful sip before saying, "Nope."

"What do you mean, 'nope'?"

"I thought that before the dress."

She gave me a dubious look. "Well, that's nice of you to say and all, but I saw how that one lady looked at me. Trust me. She was not impressed."

"So what? The world is full of fools."

She laughed. But then, her laughter faded, and something haunted came into her eyes. "I should probably be honest though."

"About what?"

She glanced down. "This dress – it isn't mine. I borrowed it. The shoes, too. I did have a dress in my suitcase, except it looked too cheap to wear." She perked up. "But the earrings are mine. And they're genuine, too."

For a moment, I was speechless. Delaney Sinclair was unlike anyone I had ever met. Curious now, I glanced at her necklace, an emerald pendant on a thin gold chain. "And the necklace?"

She reached up, brushing it with her fingers. "Oh, this? It's mine, but…" She never did finish.

"But what?"

She leaned forward to whisper, "It's not exactly real. But you probably knew that already. I mean, who could afford an emerald this big?" She rolled her eyes. "It would probably be two carats at least."

And then, she settled back to say, "I just didn't want to take credit for anything that wasn't really mine – or genuine." She gave a shaky laugh. "You know…false advertising and all that."

And with that, she glanced down at her selection of soup and quickly changed the subject. "So…they gave us a spoon for each kind, huh? That's pretty smart, don't you think? I mean…I'd hate to get avocado in the lobster, wouldn't you?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Or vice versa. So try one. Tell me what you think."

She grinned. "You first."