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“Our date was perfect.” I paused. “Until the end.”
“I liked the end.” He frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Not the way you dashed off. But before . . . I like that very much.”
My face flamed. “Me too,” I admitted.
“Then we can try again?”
“Only if you promise it’ll be as good as the last one.” I grinned and boxed up a couple of mini-cakes for him.
“No promises, but I hope.”
I handed him a lemonade. “How’s your dad? He hasn’t been by today.”
“Great,” he said toward the sky. “I’m going to need him to get another date.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Tomorrow? I can’t wait until Sunday.”
My skin tingled with awareness. “Tomorrow? That won’t work for me.” His face fell in disappointment. I appreciated his eagerness. It excited me about seeing him again too. But with Ella still recovering, it wasn’t fair to either of them. “Can we talk about it again next week?”
He brightened. “Of course.”
“Okay.”
He leaned in and crooked his finger. I bent until our faces were inches apart. “I can’t wait.”
Andrew winked, and I grabbed the edge of the counter. Had I ever wanted a kiss so desperately? “Me, neither.”
“I’ll tell the old man you’re back.”
“See you tomorrow.” I beamed and couldn’t take my eyes off him as he moved away.
“Honey, I’d do whatever I had to keep that man,” the next lady in line said, making me jump.
Could I keep him? If I were free to do so? There was such a long road to true freedom ahead. Life was going to get a lot harder before it got easier. Once he found out the truth about why I was living at Paths, he’d bolt. And I wouldn’t blame him. I had to tell him about Ella. That was only fair. I swallowed hard. I wasn’t ready to lose him, despite that I didn’t really have him.Tomorrow, Trish.Tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty
Andrew
“Can’t believea hotshot lawyer like you had time to squeeze me in.”
Patrick lifted his coffee cup in salute and flashed a cocky grin as I slid in the booth across from him.
“I needed breakfast. Thought you might too.” I shrugged. The waitress filled my cup with coffee and handed me a menu. I waved her off. “You ready to order?”
“Been waiting for you,” Patrick said, giving his menu to the waitress.
She scribbled down our orders and shuffled away.
“How are things in the world of real estate law?” He leaned back and spread his arm over the top of the booth.
I ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it in my coffee. “Not bad. Victor keeps me busy with more than I can do, but it’s interesting.”
“Still questioning the logic of having one big client? You’ll be up shit creek if he bails on you.”
Patrick and I had been round and round about this very thing. It wasn’t the brightest move I’d ever made practically putting all the eggs of the firm I owned in one client’s basket. But I made a great living off Victor. And if he chose to take his business elsewhere, I had enough of a cushion to build more.
