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“I’m so glad you called Charles, so glad you gave us the excuse to come over. I can’t think of a better way to cap off the best night of my life.”
“About that,” Eve began, then wondered why her brain didn’t explode from the laser beam Roarke shot out of those wild blue eyes. “It can wait.”
“It’s all right,” Charles told her. “You want to ask me something more about Ava.”
Friendship, she thought, was always screwing with procedure. “Tomorrow’s fine.”
“It’s all right,” Louise echoed. “If Charles can help, we both want him to. Really,” she said to Roarke. “It’s another, less giddy reason we stopped in.”
“I’ve thought about it—about Ava,” Charles began. “There’s been so much going on in my head it’s been hard to squeeze it in. But I have thought about it.”
“Ah…maybe we could go up to my office for a couple minutes.”
“Dallas, I know you can’t quite get a handle on how I can look at Charles’s work—his prior work,” Louise added, “as separate from our relationship. But I can. I have. It’s not a problem for me. So if you have a question about the LC–client relationship, just ask it.”
“I talked to her first husband. Did she ever mention him to you?”
Charles shook his head. “No. I knew she’d been married before. I do a check on any potential client. For safety, and to give myself a sense of them. A fairly early, fairly brief marriage, if I’m remembering right.”
“He’s an operator. Struck me that way. A womanizer with more money than morals and a really high opinion of himself. Nothing like the type I’d have put her with.”
“She was young. Younger,” Charles said.
“She walked away from the marriage with a nice financial settlement, after she caught him with another woman. One she’d introduced him to, and according to him, then provided him with ample opportunities to bang. She never brought that up?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“He also told me that Ava was enthusiastic in bed. Or good in it anyway. I tend to go with that, as his type would be more than happy to say she was a lousy lay. You indicated she was on the shy and cool side. Lights-off type.”
“That’s right. Sexual levels, preferences, abilities, they all can change. Inhibitions can set in for a lot reasons.”
“And women can fake enthusiasm, or lack thereof. It’s tougher for a guy, seeing as you wear your enthusiasm or lack thereof between your legs.”
“She has such a way with words,” Roarke commented. “And imagery.”
“She ever fake it with you, Charles? You’ve been in the game long enough. You’d know. You’re too professional not to.”
“No, she didn’t, and yes, you’re right, I would’ve known. Clients do, occasionally, and it would be my job to determine whether to let it go, or to explore the reasons why they didn’t, or couldn’t orgasm.” His brow knitted as he sipped champagne. “And now that you bring it up, I expected her to have some trouble there, at least the first time or two. Nerves, shyness. But she responded easily.”
“You said you get a nice percentage of clients through recommendations, referrals. Did she ever send anyone to you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I think she sent a couple clients. One-timers. I don’t remember right off, but I can look it up for you.”
“Do that.” She brooded a moment, trying to think if there was any angle she’d missed. “Okay. Back to pie.” She took a good forkful, sampled. “Holy hell. Speaking of orgasms.”
“A subject of which I never tire.” Roarke took a bite himself. “Well now, this is miraculous. Where did you get it?”
“This kid’s granny baked it. Talk amongst yourselves. The pie and I are busy.” She got down to it, bite by tart and frothy bite. Until some bit of conversation intruded on her concentration.
“An option for you,” Roarke continued. “As you consider the where and when of it.”
“A wedding here? In the gardens? I don’t know what to say. Charles?”
He smiled at Louise. “Bride’s choice.”
“Then I know exactly what to say. Yes. It’s my second best yes of the night! Yes, thank you so much.”
“That’s fine then. Come around whenever you like to have a look around. Summerset would be a help to you there. It’s a lovely spot for a wedding.” Roarke looked over at Eve. “And, I think, a lucky one.”
