she said proudly. “You still at the restaurant?”
“Nope. I own a B&B just two blocks from the River
Walk down in Wilmington. We have some serious catch-
ing up to do.” She turned to follow the waitress who
had been waiting to show her to a booth in the back.
“Call me, okay? Nice meeting you, Judge.”
“Oh, God, look at those hips!” Portland murmured
enviously as the other woman walked away. “She’s at
least five years older than me and I never looked that
sexy in jeans. I’m a cow!”
“You are not a cow,” I soothed. “Besides, didn’t you
say you’d lost another two pounds?”
Her face brightened beneath her mop of short black
curls. “True. And I didn’t eat any bread or butter
today.”
“There you go, then.”
I signaled our waitress that we were ready for our
check and we gathered up our coats and scarves.
“How did Flame know you’re a judge?” asked
Portland as we were leaving.
I explained that she’d been in my court the after-
noon before. “The Harris Farms divorce,” I said. “And
Mrs. Harris was furious that she was there. I get the
impression that your friend Flame is Buck Harris’s new
flame.”
“Really? I’ve heard tales about him for years but I
never met him. Is he good-looking?”
“I’ve only seen him once and he’s not our type—
musclebound with a thick neck as I recall. I’ve had to
grant four continuances because he just won’t come to
court. Reid’s his attorney and I warned him yesterday
67
MARGARET MARON
that if Harris doesn’t show up next week, I’m going to
try the case without him.”
“Speak of the devil and up he jumps,” said Portland,
and we watched as my cousin Reid Stephenson entered
the restaurant and went straight on back to join Flame
Smith in a rear booth.
“If Buck Harris doesn’t get himself down from the
mountains and tend to business, he’s liable to find Reid
warming her bed.”
“You’re getting cynical in your old age,” Portland
said. “She’s got at least ten years on him.”
“You’re the one who said how sexy she looked in
those jeans,” I reminded her. “And we both know
Reid’s weakness for redheads.”
“Not to mention blondes and brunettes,” Portland
murmured.
