Killer Smile

“DiNunzio, what’s up? You okay, or still upset over Cavuto?”

“No, I’m not.” Frank seems like years ago, and I have so much more to be upset about.

“And Brandolini’s doing what?”

“It’s quiet right now.” Or being filed in federal court.

“You’re letting it go?”

“Absolutely. It’s gone.” What had Judy said? Smooth as glass.

“Then you’re all ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot!”

“Forgot what?” Mary asked miserably.

Forty-Two

The restaurant in Fairmount turned out to be dark, smoky, and crowded, putting Mary in an even worse mood. Another blind date was the last thing she wanted right now, with her hand killing her, a TRO hearing to prepare for, and a night’s sleep to catch up on, but she had no choice. Bennie had set it up a few weeks ago with a good friend of hers named Gary Haddon, and Mary had forgotten about it completely. She couldn’t have cancelled this late without arousing the boss’s suspicion. Or her fury.

She glanced around the packed bar, looking for Gary. He should be here already, since she was almost twenty minutes late. She had wasted so much time at home, trying on different outfits, finally deciding on a little black dress and black heels. She’d even changed her purse to match her outfit, which was one of those things that women thought essential and men never noticed. Mary wanted a good report card from this guy, even if she wasn’t looking for Mr. Right. Him, she had already met and married. Nobody gets two Mr. Rights in her life, even if she’s a good Catholic.

Mary didn’t see Gary at the bar. Bennie had said he was hot, hot, hot; a tall, thirty-five-year-old lawyer with black hair and an incredibly hunky body, because he was the Vesper crew’s stroke. Bennie had said that meant he was the best rower in the boat, as if Mary cared. He was supposed to be wearing a dark polo shirt and biceps. She peered though the carcinogens for dark hair and a dark shirt, but she didn’t see him. Maybe he was waiting for her at a table. The dining section of the restaurant looked like it was toward the back.

She waded into the crowd, ignoring the degrading sensation that men were looking her over, and the equally degrading sensation that they weren’t.

“Can I get you a drink?” asked a man to her left, and Mary looked over. He was tall, but skinny and bald. Not Gary Haddon.

“Uh, no, thanks. I’m meeting someone.”

“Maybe next time?”

“Mrphm,” she answered, just to be nice. Then a man turned to look at her from the far side of the bar, catching her eye. He was about thirty-five years old, tall, with thick, dark hair. He wore a dark polo shirt and had the requisite musculature. Gary Haddon. Wow! This guy was seriously hot, if you happened to have a sex drive, which Mary didn’t. She gave him a little wave with her good hand, and he waved back, then got up from the bar. She squeezed her way over, extending her good hand when she reached him. “Gary Haddon?”

“Mary? I’m Gary.” Gary smiled almost shyly, which she found instantly cute. He was a great height, maybe six two, and when he shook her hand, his grip felt warm and strong. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Sorry I’m late.”

“No sweat.”

“Did you make a reservation or was I supposed to?”

“I think you were supposed to.”

Argh. “Sorry. Please don’t tell Bennie.”

“No sweat.”

Mary decided he was big on no sweat. Gary had a jock-y way about him for a lawyer, like Bennie. She could see why they’d be friends, even if Bennie’s biceps were bigger.

“Maybe they’ll have a table anyway,” Gary said, and they both looked at the dining section. There were about thirty tables and all of them were taken, to a one. Mary hid her dismay. This date would never begin, so it couldn’t end. Still, Gary seemed nice and he was really good-looking. For a stroke.

“Sorry, I should have called.”

“Forget it. I’ll check the wait.” Gary left her and wedged his way to a gorgeous hostess, who held the menus under her ample breasts, like push-up menus. Mary watched Gary speak to her, and he didn’t seem to notice the cleavage display. Nevertheless, she countered with a matching-purse display as he returned, his expression unhappy. “Bad news. The wait is an hour, maybe more.”

Blind date hell. “Oh no.”

“I’m too hungry to wait.”

Good. Let’s call it a night.

“I say we find another restaurant.”

Oh. “Uh, okay, it’s too smoky here anyway.”

“I hate smoke, too. I quit smoking.”

Me, too. Wonder how he feels about Sinatra. Or Aerosmith. “Where else can we go? I don’t know this neighborhood that well. This is Bennie’s turf.”

“I don’t know it either, but we can go anywhere. I have a car. Come with me.” Gary turned around and plunged into the crowd, reaching back to clasp Mary by her good hand.

Hand holding? Mary let herself be tugged along, even though hand holding was a boyfriend thing, not a blind date thing. Still, it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling. For once, she didn’t have to be in charge, and Gary took over very naturally. Maybe it was a stroke thing. Gary had them outside in no time, and Mary breathed in a gulp of fresh air. It was a lovely evening, the sky over the city darkening. Rush-hour traffic had died down, and there were only a few cars on the street. Just the same, Mary looked around, tense. There was no Escalade in sight, or anybody who looked like Chico or Justin driving any of the other cars.

“My car’s down the street,” Gary said. He released her hand, which she appreciated. A gentleman.

“Great.” Mary fell into step beside him. He was wearing tan slacks and loafers, and she took two little strides to his one long one, feeling like a windup doll.

“So, tell me about yourself, Mary.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to tell. I work for Bennie, I live in town.” And I hate talking about myself. “How about you?”

“Ha!” Gary walked with his head cocked, at listening angle. “You think you’re getting off that easy?”

Mary laughed. “I know I am. Now, let’s talk about you.”

Gary smiled. “So, you’re stubborn.”

“And you’re perceptive. Unfortunately.” Mary laughed again, vaguely aware that she might be flirting. But for once, she didn’t tense up. Maybe because she was outside? Maybe it was okay to flirt outside, where the flirting went into the air and didn’t land anywhere? At least it was dark. She tried not to think about it. “What kind of law do you practice, Gary? Bennie didn’t say.”

“You know, regular.”

Mary smiled. “You mean general practice?”

“No, I mean regular practice. Yes, I’m a regular lawyer. A regular guy.” Gary grinned again. They had reached his car, an older bronze Lexus, parked at the head of the line. He opened the car door for her grandly. “I drive a regular car. I even have a regular dog at home. Didn’t Bennie tell you?”

“Not a golden retriever, I hope. Our firm is lousy with ’em.”

“No, a mutt. A regular mutt.”

“What’s his name?”