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“Do you need a moment or are you ready to order?”
“Cindy?”
She saw fettuccine alfredo and pointed, “I’ll have that.”
“My favorite,” Nathan agreed. “Make it two. And two Caesar salads.”
“Excellent choice,” Mario approved, then quietly left them.
Nathan picked up his wineglass. “Here’s to good surprises.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear.” There was a crystal ring when she touched her glass to his. After taking a drink she said, “That’s very nice.”
“See? Already something good.” He grinned.
She wasn’t so sure. The night wasn’t over yet and getting through unscathed was a goal in jeopardy when he looked at her like she was dessert. That wouldn’t be a problem except she wanted to be dessert.
He leaned back against the leather seat and stretched an arm along the back, his fingers nearly brushing her bare shoulder. “So, how are mumsy and daddy?”
“Actually my parents both passed away several years ago. My father nursed mom through cancer. Then a couple of years later, he had a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry, Cindy. I didn’t mean to bring up—it was a bad joke.”
“My fault. I was messing with you that night at the fundraiser.” She settled her white cloth napkin in her lap. “It was hard losing them both so close together, but Dad was never the same after Mom died. I think he missed her. Now it’s just my brother and me.”
“Is he coming home from college for the summer?”
“No. He’s taking a class, working and sharing an apartment with some buddies. I’m helping out with expenses.” Which wouldn’t be necessary if the sweet-talking jerk who’d wined and dined her hadn’t cleaned out the money her parents left for their children’s education. She took a sip of wine. “You already know about my pathetically normal childhood. I’d like to hear about how you didn’t have one.”
He frowned, an expression just this side of brooding but no less appealing than his grin. “My father was always working. Because he was never home, Mother had hobbies. She took classes. Painting. Knitting. Needlepoint. Calligraphy. Aura reading.” Over the flickering light of the candle, his gaze connected with hers. “Neither of them were around much. I became pretty self-sufficient.”
“It sounds to me like your mother was hurt about your father working so much. She was probably hiding in her hobbies.” She finished off the wine in her glass. “And I can’t decide if you take after her or your father.”
“How about neither?”
She shook her head. “You put in a lot of hours at the hospital.”
“And you know this—how?”
“While the women wait in your line, they talk about you.” The snarky remark made him smile, just as she’d intended. “It’s said that you’re dedicated. So either you’re a workaholic like your father, or you’re hiding like your mom.”
Just then Mario brought their salads. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Not right now,” Nathan said.
The light, carefree expression had disappeared and it was her fault. Cindy wished for a filter from her brain to her mouth, but it was too late for that.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. At least he did. She pushed romaine lettuce and croutons around the plate and not much of it got eaten. She wished she’d kept her views to herself.
Finally she couldn’t stand the silence. “Look, Nathan, it’s just my opinion and worth what you paid for it. About now you’re probably regretting this invitation. The offer of sex with no strings attached must look pretty good. Sometimes I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.”
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