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Anne didn’t respond, and Alan filled the awkward silence. “Alan Smithson, at your service.” He held out his hand and Anne politely shook it.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said. Blane thought he heard just a note of sarcasm in her voice, which intrigued him.
“Likewise.” He turned his attention back to Blane. “Well, I’ll let you get on then. Enjoy the show.”
“You as well,” Blane replied.
Anne abruptly turned around. “I can bypass the ladies’ room.”
Blane obediently led her back to their seats.
“Have you met Alan before?” he asked once they were seated. Something was different. There was a line of tension in her body that hadn’t been there before.
Her smile was thin. “No. I rarely am out in the political scene. I suppose I just didn’t get a good vibe from him.”
“I’m not surprised. He isn’t my favorite either. Very partisan. Very bureaucratic. Very sure he’s on the side of the angels.”
“Is he?”
Blane sighed. “Perhaps his intentions are good, but his methods leave much to be desired. He’s done things I consider abhorrent, all in the name of justice. And he turns a blind eye to partisan malfeasance. His enthusiasm seems to be only for supposed wrongdoings on the other side of the aisle. In short, he weaponizes his position and authority.”
“Has he ever targeted you?”
He shrugged. “There were whispers not so long ago, but so far, there’s nothing in my past or present he can point to and pull a trigger at.” Images flitted through his mind of his uncle, very bloody and very dead, sitting in the chair in his office. But that was years ago. He pushed it aside.
The second half of the show flew by and soon Blane was again laying Anne’s wrap around her shoulders. They were interrupted several times on their way out by people he knew or who knew him. Through it all, he was gracious and polite, introducing Anne. She’d done this dog and pony show many times with her parents. It was like slipping on a well-worn coat.
Finally, they were at the valet waiting for his car. Anne shivered in the cold. She knew she’d freeze her ass off in this dress, though the look on Blane’s face when he saw her had been worth it.
Without a word, Blane slipped off his heavy overcoat and draped it over her shoulders. It enveloped her all the way past her knees and was deliciously warm from his body.
“Thank you,” she said. This wasn’t one of those times to protest his chivalry. Class and etiquette dictated she accept his coat, which she was quite happy to do. If a woman went to the trouble of baring some skin for a classy evening out, then the least he could do was help keep her warm.
“I promise it will be a lot more private for dinner,” he said. “If you’re hungry?”
A lovely, free dinner with a gorgeous man? Or a frozen entrée while sitting on her couch? Decisions, decisions.
“Famished.”
Blane grinned, the wind tousling his hair and for a moment, he looked every inch the high school quarterback who’d gotten a date with the star cheerleader, dimple and all. Anne gave an inward sigh of appreciation. How was he still single?
Just then the valet pulled up Blane’s jag and he opened the door for her. She shrugged off his coat and handed it back before slipping inside the car. The seat warmers had been turned on and the heat was going full blast. In a moment, Blane was behind the wheel, and they were speeding away from the theater.
Anne expected them to turn toward downtown, but he headed instead for Georgetown.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise. But very private. Very exclusive.”
Hmmm.
“Did you like the show?” he asked.
She nodded. “Very well done. But I miss the musicals of the eighties. Les Misérables will always be my favorite. Are you a fan of musicals usually?”
Blane shook his head. “No, but I can appreciate them even if they’re not my number one choice of entertainment.”
Anne smiled. “And what would be your number one choice of entertainment? A night at the bowling alley?”
