broadcast displaying my face as a person of interest in the judge’s murder. I mean, who paid attention to those new briefs anyway? My firm grip on denial allowed my heart to continue beating at a moderately normal level.
"Jamie, he just pulled up." Danny’s voice registered clearly in my earpiece.
Attached to the bodice of my dress was a diamond brooch with a hidden camera disguised inside. Not what I’d normally wear on a date, but tonight was all business.
"Copy that," I spoke into my chest, with a sigh of relief that he'd shown up himself.
And not sent a gang of black and whites.
The bartender frowned, probably wondering why the crazy, hot woman was talking to herself.
I offered a killer, um, no, an innocent smile and turned back to watch the entrance.
The door opened and Aiden strode in. He still wore the suit trousers he had on earlier, but the jacket and tie were removed, leaving the white button-down open just enough to catch a glimpse of his tanned chest.
He glanced toward the bar, and my palms began to sweat like a thirteen-year-old on her first date.
Jitteriness wasn’t usually a part of the routine. But nothing was usual about this encounter.
The Maitre d’ showed him to a table in the far, front corner.
From what I could tell there were no police cars out front, no flashing lights or sirens. He hadn’t walked in with any officers, and he was reading the menu.
I turned my back to the bar and asked Danny, "How’s it look out there?"
"All clear."
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I flinched. I spun around to find the Maitre d’—a stout man with white hair and skin as smooth as a helium-filled balloon.
"Madame, may I help you?" he asked, clearly not used to women hiding out in his restaurant.
So much for being incognito.
"I’m fine," I whispered. "I was set up on a blind date, and I wanted to scope him out first. You know."
But from the sudden creases along his forehead, he didn’t. "Shall I show you to a table so you can wait for the gentleman?"
Danny chuckled in my ear. "Smooth, Jamie."
An older couple walked inside and stopped at the host stand.
Perfect timing.
I used their presence as a shield and stepped forward. "No need. I see him now."
The Maitre d’ shot me a look that said he'd be keeping an eye on me (join the club, pal), but thankfully left me to attend to the new couple.
I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
Aiden looked up as I approached. His brows raised, and a smile tugged at his mouth. He stood and pulled out my chair.
"Play it cool," Danny whispered.
Like there was any other way?
"I’m so glad you called." Aiden widened his smile. The corners around his eyes creased. Under different circumstances, the expression would’ve been endearing. Right now, I wondered how he’d play his cards. I knew why I was here. Why was he?
"I’m glad your busy schedule allowed."
Danny scoffed.
As Aiden helped push in my chair, he received a wide angle view of my cleavage. Luckily I'd tucked the mic far enough down to be out of sight. There was no sense in wearing something this revealing if I wasn’t going to flaunt it.
He returned to his seat. "I hope this is acceptable. I figured in case you’re hungry. It’s been a long day, and I’m famished."
He planned to feast on stuffed shells or Veal Piccata while interrogating me?
"Your job must be so demanding."
"There’s that sex kitten voice again," Danny muttered under his breath.
I cleared my throat and watched Aiden from beneath my lashes.
"It has its moments," he answered. "And what about you? What does Jamie Smith do?"
Was he aware that he'd emphasized my fictitious last name? Was it on purpose? Was he trying to crack me, get a confession right here in the dim candlelight of our table for two?
I parted my lips, tempted to falsify my life with tales of yacht sailing and actual Prince ogling, when the waiter arrived with a glass of Chardonnay for Aiden and a martini for me.
"I hope you don’t
"Jamie, he just pulled up." Danny’s voice registered clearly in my earpiece.
Attached to the bodice of my dress was a diamond brooch with a hidden camera disguised inside. Not what I’d normally wear on a date, but tonight was all business.
"Copy that," I spoke into my chest, with a sigh of relief that he'd shown up himself.
And not sent a gang of black and whites.
The bartender frowned, probably wondering why the crazy, hot woman was talking to herself.
I offered a killer, um, no, an innocent smile and turned back to watch the entrance.
The door opened and Aiden strode in. He still wore the suit trousers he had on earlier, but the jacket and tie were removed, leaving the white button-down open just enough to catch a glimpse of his tanned chest.
He glanced toward the bar, and my palms began to sweat like a thirteen-year-old on her first date.
Jitteriness wasn’t usually a part of the routine. But nothing was usual about this encounter.
The Maitre d’ showed him to a table in the far, front corner.
From what I could tell there were no police cars out front, no flashing lights or sirens. He hadn’t walked in with any officers, and he was reading the menu.
I turned my back to the bar and asked Danny, "How’s it look out there?"
"All clear."
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I flinched. I spun around to find the Maitre d’—a stout man with white hair and skin as smooth as a helium-filled balloon.
"Madame, may I help you?" he asked, clearly not used to women hiding out in his restaurant.
So much for being incognito.
"I’m fine," I whispered. "I was set up on a blind date, and I wanted to scope him out first. You know."
But from the sudden creases along his forehead, he didn’t. "Shall I show you to a table so you can wait for the gentleman?"
Danny chuckled in my ear. "Smooth, Jamie."
An older couple walked inside and stopped at the host stand.
Perfect timing.
I used their presence as a shield and stepped forward. "No need. I see him now."
The Maitre d’ shot me a look that said he'd be keeping an eye on me (join the club, pal), but thankfully left me to attend to the new couple.
I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
Aiden looked up as I approached. His brows raised, and a smile tugged at his mouth. He stood and pulled out my chair.
"Play it cool," Danny whispered.
Like there was any other way?
"I’m so glad you called." Aiden widened his smile. The corners around his eyes creased. Under different circumstances, the expression would’ve been endearing. Right now, I wondered how he’d play his cards. I knew why I was here. Why was he?
"I’m glad your busy schedule allowed."
Danny scoffed.
As Aiden helped push in my chair, he received a wide angle view of my cleavage. Luckily I'd tucked the mic far enough down to be out of sight. There was no sense in wearing something this revealing if I wasn’t going to flaunt it.
He returned to his seat. "I hope this is acceptable. I figured in case you’re hungry. It’s been a long day, and I’m famished."
He planned to feast on stuffed shells or Veal Piccata while interrogating me?
"Your job must be so demanding."
"There’s that sex kitten voice again," Danny muttered under his breath.
I cleared my throat and watched Aiden from beneath my lashes.
"It has its moments," he answered. "And what about you? What does Jamie Smith do?"
Was he aware that he'd emphasized my fictitious last name? Was it on purpose? Was he trying to crack me, get a confession right here in the dim candlelight of our table for two?
I parted my lips, tempted to falsify my life with tales of yacht sailing and actual Prince ogling, when the waiter arrived with a glass of Chardonnay for Aiden and a martini for me.
"I hope you don’t
Similar Books
