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MORGAN SIPPED HER Chianti, letting its soothing effects swirl through her system.
“Is that some semblance of a smile?” Jill teased, crossing the kitchen and helping herself to another slice of pizza. “Hmm—could it have something to do with that call from Lane Montgomery?”
“Good guess.” Morgan put down her glass and sank back in her chair. “It’s ironic. I see right through him. You know the package—effortless self-assurance, natural sex appeal, and enough magnetism to move a steel I-beam.”
“You forgot a few things,” Jill supplied helpfully. “Great body, exciting career, and that independent male aura that draws women like flies.”
“I stand corrected. But the scary part is that I’ve warned dozens of clients to stay away from his type. So what am I doing? I’m walking directly into the line of fire. I see all his flaws, anticipate every technique he’s using to draw me in—and yet…”
“And yet they’re all working.”
“I wish I knew why. All I know is that somehow it’s different. He’s different.”
“Maybe there’s more to Lane Montgomery than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.”
“Or maybe I’m just so attracted to him that I can’t think straight.”
“There’s no denying there’s chemistry between you.”
“Too much chemistry.” Morgan sighed. “I just hope there’s something besides that.”
“Relationships aren’t a science, Morg. We know that better than most.”
“We also know that lasting relationships require something more than physical attraction and great sex. Lane and I are total opposites. I’m super-cautious. He’s a daredevil and a player. I must be crazy.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Jill refilled both their glasses. “You’re having dinner with him tomorrow night?”
“More like midnight supper. Arthur’s plane won’t be landing until around tenish.”
“Okay, so a late dinner.” Jill took a sip of wine, slanting a casual look in Morgan’s direction. “Any chance that late dinner will extend into breakfast?”
Morgan’s brows arched. “Aren’t you subtle?”
“Nope. Never have been. Never will be. Now answer the question.”
“Maybe. Probably not. It depends.” Morgan took a healthy swallow of Chianti. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“Decisive. I like that.”
Morgan rose. “There’s just one thing I am sure of right now. I need some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Want some?” She headed for the freezer.
“Don’t waste time and dishes,” Jill advised. “This conversation calls for two pints, two spoons, and no regrets.”
Five minutes later, they were alternating between sips of Chianti and spoonfuls of ice cream.
“I reviewed the crime-scene photos today,” Morgan blurted out.
Jill’s spoon paused halfway to her mouth. “So that’s why you were at Detective Montgomery’s for so long. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you.”
“Believe me, you wouldn’t have wanted to see these.”
“At least I could have offered you moral support.”
“Thanks. But this was one of those things I had to do alone.” Morgan stared into her ice-cream carton. “I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. It was like being sucked into a black hole.”
“I’m so sorry. It must have been agonizing for you.” Jill gripped her spoon, stabbing at the ice cream.
“It’s okay. I’m hanging in.” Morgan leaned forward, squeezed her friend’s arm. Jill’s kind, loving nature was just like Elyse’s.
