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She went to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup, then came back to the sofa, opened up the file on Sheriff Woodley, and started to read.
***
Liz and Michael were having lunch at the Hotel Devon in the penthouse where Michael lived with his father, Marshall. Marshall came into the residence long enough to greet Liz and remind Michael of a two o’clock meeting later, and then he was gone.
Michael seated Liz, kissed the side of her cheek, and then took the chair opposite her.
“You look beautiful, Liz.”
“Thank you,” Liz said.
She couldn’t help but preen a little at the compliment, but she wasn’t going to make this easy. He’d put his hands around her neck. He was lucky she hadn’t gone for his balls.
As soon as they were both seated, the waiter served their food, left dessert on the sideboard, and exited the penthouse.
“Looks good,” Liz said, eyeing the cold shrimp salad and white wine, then put her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork.
“I’ve missed you,” Michael said. “I miss us.”
Liz swallowed the bite she was chewing and pointed at him with her fork.
“You miss the sex,” she said.
He shrugged. “Well, yes…that’s part of it. Don’t you?”
“I’m still dealing with the ugly threats you made to me,” she said, and popped a shrimp in her mouth.
He flushed an angry red. “I’ve apologized for the misunderstanding several times. You either choose to accept it and quit harping about it, or you don’t and this doesn’t work anymore, because I will not grovel.”
She calmly chewed and swallowed, then took a quick sip of the wine. “I didn’t ask you to grovel, Michael. In fact, I haven’t asked you for anything, have I?”
He sighed. “No.”
“Then consider this starting over, because you broke ‘us.’ Now we just have to decide if there’s anything left to repair,” she said.
Michael stared at her as if she was a stranger. “You’ve changed,” he said.
She shrugged. “I have come to realize what a shallow life I was living. Rusty showed me that without even trying. I admire her greatly. I always have. I’d just forgotten how really special she is.”
He blinked.
“Speaking of Rusty, I’ve been hearing rumors,” Michael said.
“If the rumors are that she is smarter and prettier than me, then they’re all true,” Liz said. “Anyway, she’s already gone, and Mom took off for Philadelphia this morning. One of her little trips she takes when she can’t stand the sight of Jubilee another moment.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael said.
“Oh, don’t be. Dad and I get along just fine. In fact, I’ve been thinking about hitting him up for a job. Maybe interning with our event planner. I feel like I’ve been wasting my degree just sitting around with my mother, getting my nails done, my hair done. Makes me feel like a toy in the house for her amusement.” She poked at her salad again, spearing another shrimp. “This shrimp salad is delicious. Good choice, Michael.”
Pleased that he’d done something right, he smiled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. The entree is a petite filet mignon with a black pepper and caper sauce, and seared garlic-butter fingerling potatoes.”
She smiled. “You turned lunch into a mini surf and turf. I like it.”
“I aim to please,” he said lightly, and the meal continued.
***
Cameron walked into the vet clinic with Ghost on a leash, waved at Amber, the receptionist, to let him know they were there, and then took Ghost to the far end of the room to wait. He looked up as Leslie appeared, escorting a woman to the door who was carrying her cat in a crate. The cat was hissing and spitting at everything in sight, and the woman was talking baby-talk to the cat as they went.
