She smiled at her brother but shot James an irritated look because she was certain she’d heard him make a faint moan at her brother’s unfortunate choice of words.
Smart mouth in a dirty mind took on a whole other meaning.
Deciding that changing the subject was imperative, she ruefully slotted in, “I’m putting weight on. I’m getting too used to eating at places like these. The company always insists I wine and dine my new clients in upscale restaurants.”
“And yet, you don’t look like you’ve gained an ounce of weight.” James’ words weren’t as bland as Hannah assumed he’d intended. His gaze traveled over every visible inch of her until she was squirming in her seat.
“What are you doing checking out Hannah?” Aidan teased, nudging James in the side.
James grinned. “I’ve got eyes, bro. And, it would seem, she hasn’t.”
Aidan being Aidan—somehow as smart as Einstein and dumber than a Eugenics textbook—failed to pick up on that. Instead, he looked her up and down and declared, “He’s right. You look skinnier if anything.”
Hannah grimaced. “I gained weight over the summer, but I’ve shifted a few pounds recently.”
Stress, misery, and tension had a habit of biting into one’s appetite.
Not that she could say that. Not with him at the table.
Damn him for noticing, anyway.
“Why? You’re slender enough as it is.”
“James, shut up, would you?” she spat through gritted teeth. “Women always diet. It’s what we do, unfortunately, to please men.”
James frowned. “That boyfriend of yours better not have told you you were fat or something.”
She sighed. “I never said that, did I?”
“No, but the implication was there, Hannah. What’s going on?” Aidan demanded as he pushed his knife and fork onto the plate, having finished his huge steak and enormous side of swanky, rosemary salt-shaken fries.
“Nothing’s wrong, and nothing’s going on, Aidan. Stop looking for trouble where there is none. I’ve been working hard, that’s all. You know how it is w
hen you’re feeling stressed.”
“You work too hard.”
She snorted. “You can talk.”
Aidan grinned. “I like what I do. It’s fun for me. I don’t find it at all stressful.”
“Well, what I do is fun for me too.”
James slithered in like a snake with his gambit, “But Aidan’s love of his job isn’t affecting his appetite.” He shot the large, empty, platter that Aidan had pushed away moments before and wryly stated, “As you can see, he eats for two.”
Her brother grunted. “I’m offended.”
“Shut up about my weight, you two.” She huffed again and took another bite of her meal. She was full, but half the dish was left. Self-consciously, she eyed it, knowing both men would notice. Still, she couldn’t stuff her face on it, not without wanting to puke. She was far too nervous, and it irritated the hell out of her that James had noticed, not her usually observant brother.
Adrian got to his feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.” To her, he grinned. “I’ll get the waiter over here with the dessert card, sis. That will entice you to eat if nothing else will.”
When he clapped James on the back then headed through the sparse seating in the upscale restaurant, where white linen tablecloths and leather banquettes married hand in hand, she was left alone with the enemy.
Damning her brother’s bladder, she scowled down at the cutlery, then picked up her fork again and began toying with a potato.
“Why don’t you tell your brother what’s really going on?” James asked.
The question could have been snide. But it wasn’t. If anything, it was curious.