“Back to Buffalo?”
Her gaze drops. “Yes. Court at nine and then I’ll stop by my office there.”
Jealousy worms its way into my vision. I push it aside because I won’t waste the time I have with her talking about another man.
My questions about Chet Richmond need to be put on ice for now.
“When will you be back in Manhattan?”
“Tomorrow night,” she answers quickly. “I wouldn’t miss our court date for anything.”
That’s going to happen the day after tomorrow. I need to see her again before we go head-to-head to fight over the remains of the Alcesters’ shattered marriage.
“We’ll meet for dinner.”
I don’t phrase it as a question because I don’t want to give her the option of saying no.
“A drink?” she counters. “I have some prep I need to do before I beat you in court. I’ll meet you at the Tin Anchor at eight. Do you know it?”
I represented the owner of the pub in a custody case.
“I’ll be there at eight.”
She plants one last, long, lingering kiss on my mouth. “I need to get dressed.”
“I’ll help,” I offer, gliding a hand up her bare thigh.
“Why do I feel like you’re offering to undress me instead?”
“Because I am.”
Chapter 43
Dylan
Seeing a familiar face is always a welcome sight.
I walk to the counter at Palla on Fifth and slap Kurt Sufford on the shoulder from behind.
“What the hell?” He turns to face me, his hand centered on his chest. “You scared me. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I’d laugh under different circumstances, but I know he’s been through a lot the last few weeks.
“It’s good to see you, Kurt.”
He edges his chin up. “Great to see you, Dylan. How’s business?”
“Unhappiness never goes out of style.” I point at the large herbal tea on the counter in front of him. “I see you’re making some changes.”
“This is the least of it.” He runs a hand over his forehead. “Thelma has me up and out of bed at six every morning. First it’s a walk in the park, oatmeal and fruit for breakfast once we’re home.”
“It’s paying off.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re looking great.”
He is. There’s more color in his cheeks. His shoulders aren’t tensed back. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than a tight three-piece suit. Today, he’s wearing a pair of light brown dress pants and a white polo.
“I’m taking it day-by-day.” He chuckles. “Change isn’t easy. Backing off at work has been the hardest. So far I’m doing a lousy job. I’m keeping up with every case in both offices. Not an easy task when your wife wants you to do crossword puzzles and meditate.”
I laugh. “You’ve got some good people running the ship while you rest up.”