On the drive back to the school, where he took the wheel of her Toyota, and the other kids followed in a chauffeured van, she’d freaked out to the nth degree, resolving never again to leave the campus grounds until graduation. He’d been able to convince her she shouldn’t stop being adventurous and going after things she wanted just because she got set back on her heels now and then. Life was about the experience, not just the nose to the grindstone.
Why did he have a feeling he was about to pay dearly for that advice?
* * * * *
“What happened to that guy?” Ben poured Marcie a second glass of her preferred after-dinner white zinfandel as she finished chuckling over the recap of her Kentucky mishap. He’d chosen one of his favorite casual cafés, with a table outdoors so she could enjoy the New Orleans’ nightlife.
“Allan milked the whole anti-establishment pothead image as a freshman, but he was too smart to stick with it for long. He was a chemistry genius, so he’s working for one of the major pharmaceutical companies now. He’ll probably discover the cure for cancer. Thank God he cut those gross dreadlocks. He was actually a decent-looking guy without them, a real Michael Bolton makeover.”
“Do you want dessert?”
“Have you ever known me not to want dessert? I’d have started with it, but I’m convincing you I’m a grown-up. Then I’ll be the oldest one at the table, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, keep it up, wiseass.” He passed her the dessert menu so she could consider her choices for later. As he watched her eyes flicker over the selection, her teeth worried her bottom lip in an altogether distracting manner.
He’d kept their conversation to her school years, the work education co-ops in Europe and New York, because it helped him remember who she was, who she was supposed to be to him. A little smile played around her lips now and then, a knowing look as if she was wise to the ploy, but he found himself absorbed by her experiences with corporate offices in Paris, Milan and Stuttgart, the differences in legal practices, as well as the sights she’d indulged. She’d always been detail oriented, and she recalled everything with ease, answering his questions and frankly impressing the hell out of him.
“You were smart, integrating the co-ops into your studies. I knew you were impatient about it putting your graduation a year later than your classmates.”
“Yeah, and you all didn’t have to go to one of those mind-numbing graduation ceremonies. They mailed me my diploma. But I admit, when you said it would give my resume that extra polish, it did.” She gave him an eye roll and a smirk. “I’ve already been invited back to two of the European firms and the New York one wanted to hire me then and there.”
He licked his finger, touched her with the sizzling noise of hot stuff, and she laughed. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead and be smug. It gave me valuable work experience as a corporate investigator, which is the field I intend to pursue. Steve Pickard’s already given me a couple projects to do while I’m home. I can’t wait.”
“Just so they don’t interfere with the vital tasks of collating, copying and organizing paper clips for me.”
“I’m going to tell Alice and Janet you mocked what they do. They’ll load your stapler with C-4 and wait for the boom.”
“They don’t need any help creatively planning my demise.”
“I’ll bet.” She grinned at him, then gave him a mock scowl. “You didn’t warn me what the absolute best experience in Europe would be.”
“All-night orgies with rugby teams?”
“No, but that was a close second. Oh my God, the food. If you ate everything you wanted you’d exceed the weight limit for the plane trip back. I thought of you so often, because you’re such an amazing cook. You really need to go to Italy sometime and do one of their week intensives on Italian cooking. You’d love it. Do you still bring something for the monthly family dinner at our house?”
“Still.”
She sighed, sat back. “Whatever you brought was always our favorite. Well, not Nate’s, but that was because he had a serious hot dog and macaroni fetish going then, but those orgasmic desserts, or the bread… I don’t think I’ve ever tasted bread as good as what you bake, not even in Paris. If you ever decide not to be a lawyer, I think you should open a bakery.” Her gaze went back to the menu, then up. “Will you choose for me, like you did dinner? I trust your instincts.”
She’d implied it was his culinary expertise, but if he was the suspicious sort, and of course he was, she’d maneuvered him into taking control of the meal, deciding what she would and wouldn’t eat. The way a full-time Master might.
The candlelight on the table flickered, catching her eyes, the gleam of her freshened lipstick. Glinted off that pendant. Reaching out, he touched the disk. His fingers were large, couldn’t help whispering over her throat, just a brief touch, but he saw her register it, her fingers tightening on the stem of her wineglass. His own skin tingled with heat. “That’s a pretty piece.”
“You gave it to me. The forget-me-nots?” At his puzzled expression, she prodded his memory further. “My senior prom, the night my date stood me up?”
“Oh yeah. I remember. What happened to that clueless loser?”
“I have no idea, but I’ve often hoped it involved several flights of stairs and a year in traction. I was mortified that Cass told you about it. The other guys were okay, but it embarrassed me that you knew.”
He decided not to touch the why of that, because it was too uncomfortably obvious. Marcie was continuing anyway, relieving him of
