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Delores shrugged the mink jacket off her shoulders and asked the chauffeur to turn down the heater. “It feels like the tropics in here.”
The driver apologized and made an adjustment on the limo’s thermostat. Delores thanked him and raised the partition.
Privacy now secured, she smiled over at Richard. “Well?”
“It was brilliant, Del.”
“I thought so.”
She deserved to gloat over the success of their afternoon project. Richard reached across the car seat and stroked her cheek. “It was an inspired idea. One I wish I could take credit for.”
She kissed the back of his hand. “I hope it didn’t exhaust you.”
“I’m tired. But it was worth the effort.” He took his phone from his breast pocket and turned it on. “Nate has called me four times.”
She reactivated her own phone. “And me three. That must mean he has it.”
“He does.” Richard gave her a campaign poster smile. “Goliad texted that Dr. O’Neal and the goods were delivered into Nate’s hands about an hour ago.”
“Thank God.”
“Call Nate. He’s probably apoplectic.”
She made the call and put the phone on speaker. Nate answered immediately. “Delores, where in God’s name—”
“Before lecturing me, wait until you hear why we were temporarily out of touch.”
She gave him the lowdown. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. The only person we notified beforehand was Richard’s assistant. She’d been a little miffed at us for not doing something publicly in observance of Thanksgiving, so she jumped on the idea, scrambled, and got media there. We were seen, photographed, recorded. Richard gave a sound bite. It will be on tonight’s news.”
“Good play!” Nate said.
“We thought so.” She cast Richard a smug smile. “Meanwhile, you took delivery on a package for us?”
“It’s right here. Where are you now?”
“In the car on the way home.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Nate?” Richard said. “Is there any special preparation I should make?”
“Yes, pour Delores a stiff drink.”
They all laughed.
Nate continued. “Really nothing. Get comfy. Brynn and I will put in an IV. Basically that’s all there is to it.”
Delores said, “We don’t know how to thank you for this, Nate.”
“Oh, I have lots of ideas for that. Maybe you could arrange for a wing of the hospital to be named after me.”
“You think large, Nate,” Richard said.
“If I didn’t, Delores would soon be a widow. See you in a bit.”
Delores clicked off. Richard frowned. “With what we’ve paid him, he could buy his own hospital wing. Cocky bastard.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and scooted across the back seat to snuggle against him. “He is. But he’s our cocky bastard, and it’s always beneficial to have one indebted.”
