“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“Can we talk about it in person?”
“I guess. I mean, sure.”
“I’m still at the Four Seasons. Do you mind meeting with me here?”
“Fine. When?”
“How soon can you get here?”
An hour later, Dent knocked on the door of her suite. She looked at him through the peephole and, even distorted by the fish-eye lens, he looked wonderful. He was dressed as she’d seen him that morning when she’d first chartered his plane. Jeans and boots, a white shirt, black necktie loosely knotted beneath his open collar.
He obviously regarded this as a business meeting.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He came into the suite and, standing in the center of the parlor, slid his hands into the back pocket of his jeans and took a look around. Finally he came around to her. She said, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“I still need the charters.”
“You didn’t take the job with the senator?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“How’s it working out?”
“Okay. I’ve flown him back and forth between here and his ranch. Easy breezy. Less than an hour with a tailwind. On Saturday, I ran him and his wife down to Galveston to meet some friends for dinner. Was home by one a.m.”
“So it’s going well.”
“It’s only been a week, but so far so good.”
“I’m glad. Meanwhile, how are the repairs on your airplane coming?”
“That’s why I need the charters. My deductible is high. Even with Gall doing the labor, replacement parts are expensive.”
They were killing time, avoiding what they really needed to talk about, and both were aware of it. Her heart was about to burst out of her chest. She gestured to an armchair. “Sit down. Can I get you something to drink from the mini-bar?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
He took the chair. She sat down on the sofa. He looked around, noticing how lived-in the room was.
“You’ve been here all week?”
“Yes, since you dropped me off.”
Her long conversation with Van Durbin had moved from the street outside the mansion to an all-night diner. When it had finally concluded in the wee hours, she’d asked Dent to take her to the hotel. He had, without argument or comment. He’d given her a good-night hug but hadn’t offered or asked to stay with her.
She hadn’t heard from him again until she’d worked up the courage to call him an hour ago.
“After Olivia… I didn’t want to stay in my parents’ house.”
“Understandable.”
“It was hard enough for Steven and me to go through it, room by room, seeing what we wanted to keep. He took some of Olivia’s things. I kept some of Daddy’s which held special memories for me. Everything else, even Olivia’s jewelry, has been turned over to an estate liquidator. Steven and I agreed to donate all the proceeds of that sale to a homeless shelter. We’ll sell the property.”