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“Then why do you look more serious than usual?”
“I was just thinking about all the women you could be bringing home that would probably make more sense than I do.”
“Why do you think you don’t make sense?” He pulled into an empty parking space and killed the engine.
She plucked at her skirt. “Look at me. I’ve never owned a designer anything. I grew up in a small town in northern Alabama. I clean houses, tend bar and occasionally waitress to make ends meet.”
“You’re smart, motivated and hardworking. And you’re putting yourself through law school. You’ll have more in common with my family than I do.” He shot her a wry smile. “As for owning something with a designer label, I’m going to help you with that. By the time I’m done with you, the girl from a small town in northern Alabama will be a distant memory.”
At his words, foreboding skittered up her spine. She realized she was less a partner in his scheme and more like a prop. The insight warned her she’d better stay on her toes lest she be overwhelmed by his charismatic bulldozing.
They rode the elevator up to the restaurant and emerged into a long narrow space divided into four sections: two for dining, a third for the piano bar and the main entrance. Simon guided Caroline toward the hostess stand, but paused when his phone rang. Checking the number, he frowned.
“I have to take this,” he told her. “It will just be a second. See if you can get us a table by the windows.”
While Simon moved off to a quie
t spot away from the crowded piano bar, Caroline advanced toward the hostess. Off to her left, laughter and conversation spilled from the bar. The owners had chosen to leave some industrial features like ductwork and exposed electrical pipe suspended below the eleven-foot ceilings. White tablecloths, black chairs and soft cream-and-butter-colored walls gave the space a simple elegance. Enormous arched windows filled one wall in the dining room, letting in huge amounts of light and offering wonderful views of downtown.
She was about to inquire about a table when she heard her name. Turning, she spied John Faulkner, the buddy of a guy she had dated a few years ago.
“Caroline, you’re as beautiful as ever,” he said, putting his arm around her waist and bussing her cheek. His breath smelled of alcohol and his light brown eyes were a little bloodshot. Her rigid posture wasn’t penetrating his mild intoxication so she pried at his arm, hoping John would release her without making a scene. Fortunately today he had something on his mind besides lechery and let her go.
“Hello, John.”
Tall and handsome with a cocky charm, he’d been Greg’s best friend since college. In the short time she and Greg had dated, they’d spent a fair amount of time with John and Diane. Enough that Caroline had learned to be wary of John’s overfriendly ways and sneaky hands. He reminded her of Duke Banks, the middle son of the family that had employed her mother. Duke had been three years older than her and always too keen to get her alone. When she was fourteen, he and two of his buddies had cornered her in an upstairs hallway and forced her into Duke’s bedroom.
If her mother hadn’t heard her cries, Caroline was sure they would have succeeded in getting her shorts as well as her shirt off. After that, her mother told her about her own experiences when she was a teenager. Both the incident and her mother’s horror stories skewed Caroline’s view of boys and dating. She was a junior in college before she went on her first date, and she was cautious with each of the five men she’d dated since then.
Which accounted for her limited dating experience. For some reason the men who asked her out didn’t have the patience to get to know her before they wanted to have sex. At first she’d thought Greg was different. Too soon she realized he was just biding his time.
“You look great,” John said. “Don’t know what my buddy was thinking when he let you get away.”
Before she’d gotten to know him, Caroline had wondered if John had picked up on the lack of sexual chemistry between her and Greg or if he was just a jerk. As time went on she’d discovered he drank too much and played too hard for a married man with two beautiful little girls.
“How is Greg?” She didn’t really care what her ex was up to, but keeping John talking about his best friend was better than listening to him compliment her.
“He got married.”
“How nice. Tell him I said hi.” Anxiety prickled as John leaned close to murmur in her ear.
“Come have a drink with me.”
“I’m having lunch with someone.” She glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t see any sign of Simon. Keeping her distaste buried under politeness was getting harder by the second. “How’s Diane?”
John rolled his eyes and swallowed the rest of his drink. “Pregnant again.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“It’s not wonderful yet.” He forced a laugh. “We’re not sure it’s a boy.”
Disgust rose in her. She sidled away from him. “Tell Diane congratulations, won’t you?”
John stepped into her path and loomed over her. He traced her necklace with a single finger while his gaze swept over her body. “You were always my favorite of Greg’s girlfriends.”
Caroline recoiled. “John, I have to go.”
“You know, you really were the hottest girl he ever dated.”
