He wanted to pull her in again, gauge her reactions from the way her body fit. She was recovering from her bout of sorrow though, he could tell. Standing taller, she eased further away. “I’d like that. Thank you. I accept.”
“Good.” He let her go, knowing she needed to feel stable on her own, but wishing he could shoulder some of the burden for her.
The thought shocked him.
“Is something wrong?”
With a mental shake, he brought himself back to the moment. “No, not at all. I was just thinking that we could kill two birds with one stone. We’ll go by your office, pick up that key you need.” He stopped. “Is it something you have to get? As your counsel, I have to say that dealing with them right now might not be a good idea. In fact,” he said as he sat down at the table, leading her to sit as well, “you might have grounds for a suit, especially if your employers continue to speak to the press.”
Torie shook her head. “No. In some ways, it shows their true colors. It’s better to know.”
“Hmmm, I guess. So, key first. Then we’ll run by the house and change. There’s a nice family restaurant near the house. We’ll go there.”
“What kind of food do they serve?”
“What else? Italian.”
“Excellent.”
“So—” he rose to unlock the door. It wouldn’t do for someone to come along and try it, find it locked, and jump to all the right conclusions. “What’s on the list?”
He pointed to the pad, covered in neat, precise notations.
“All the miserable details of finding a place to live, and replacing some of my things.” She eyed the pad, flipped up several pages to reveal more writing. “You can see why I got a little overwhelmed.”
“Yeah, I can. So what’s the key?”
“It’s to a safety deposit box. I kept it in my desk drawer so I could get it easily if something happened to the house.” She looked at him, her eyes dark and sorrowful again. “I never thought I’d really need it.”
He pressed his hand over hers. He’d made that gesture a thousand times to clients, to friends who needed reassurance or succor, even to women he was dating, keeping them interested. Never had it felt like it meant anything. Now, it did. He really did want her to feel how much he empathized with her plight. The gesture seemed so very little.
Torie sighed and sandwiched his hand between hers. “Thank you for offering to go. If this is part of the ‘Truce with Torie Campaign,’ I really appreciate it. I can go by myself,” she said, beginning to temporize.
“I know. But won’t it be easier if I go with you?” he said quickly, knowing she’d talk herself into facing it alone if he didn’t. He didn’t want her to go alone. He
Another shocker.
She smiled, nodded. “Yeah, it will be easier if I have company when I go. Thanks.”
“Oh, so I’m company now,” he teased. “Jeez.”
“You know what I mean.” She pushed at his shoulder and he pretended to be knocked back.
“Wow, you pack a whallop. And yeah,” he said and returned to serious mode, “I know. Let me just wrap up a few things here and we’ll head out. That way, we get there just before five. You can get the key and get out without a lot of fanfare and gossip.”
Torie closed her eyes, winced. “Yeah. Sounds like fun.”
“Stick with me, kid. We’ll have ’em rollin’ in the aisles,” he joked, hoping to make her laugh.
Fortunately, she did. He went to his desk and checked the printout Martha had managed to make of his schedule for the next few days. Thankfully, he could indeed leave early.
“Hey,” he said, and turned as a thought struck him. “What was up with Pam? Was she any help figuring out where your cousin went?”
“No, not really.”
Another thing occurred to him, and he was about to ask when Martha knocked on the door, easing it open.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“That’s all right, Martha, I was just checking to see what was on the docket for tomorrow.”
“You have several clients who are scheduled to come in tomorrow. Did you want me to reschedule those again?”
“Don’t reschedule on my account,” Torie interjected, hefting the list she’d made as an addendum to her comments. “Obviously, I have a considerable amount to do. And…” She forestalled his suggestion that she come with him to the office. “I can do that from—” she stopped her gaze on Martha, then shrugged—“from your house just as easily as I can do it here.”
“Very well, then.” Martha nodded without waiting for him to reply. “I’ll see to it. I have the information on the dinner, as well as several other items. I understand you’re having breakfast with Mister Pratt Sr.”
“If he says so. His schedule was jammed more tightly than mine.”
“His assistant just called to confirm it. His office at seven-thirty.”
Paul snagged a pen from the drawer, and wrote the time and particulars on the paper calendar. “Got it.”
