* * *
We had a corner booth and sat beside each other, our thighs pressing together. It felt intimate and cozy, and I liked her close. After making sure she had no allergies, I ordered the dinner for two. Whatever the chef made was what we would eat. I poured us each a glass of wine, and we clinked glasses. I studied her in the candlelight. She wore a pretty skirt and blouse, feminine and lacy. She had a shawl draped around her shoulders. The muted green of her outfit complemented her coloring. Her eyes looked tired, two thumbprints of blue underneath them showing her lack of sleep.
“Any contact today? I asked mildly.
“No. I haven’t seen him all day.” She took a sip. “Thank God.”
“Good.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “How did you pay for your membership to the online dating app?”
“Oh, I had a month free trial. I had to give a credit card for after it expired.” She shook her head. “Andy said he always canceled and made a new profile before his card was charged. He told me once he didn’t really have to pay for dates.”
I snorted. “And yet there he was—on a dating site. His profile was pretty empty.”
“How do you know that?”
I decided to be honest. “I hacked into their system.”
She gaped at me. “You hacked…” Her voice trailed off. “Isn’t that—” She leaned close with a whisper. “Isn’t that illegal?”
I smirked. “Yes.”
“Yet—” she waved her hand “—you did. And you told me.”
“I need to know what or who I’m dealing with. Who I have to protect you from. I need to know everything I can about him.”
“Maybe you should look at other sites.”
I blinked. “What?”
“He mentioned he’d tried other sites as well.”
I picked up my phone and sent Egan a text. He replied swiftly, telling me he would cast a wider net.
“Who did you just text?” she asked.
“A colleague helping me.”
She sat back, shaking her head. “I feel as if I just stumbled into a spy movie.”
I laughed, waiting until the bowls of thick minestrone soup were placed in front of us, a basket of bread set down, and cheese and pepper added to the soup before the waiter departed.
“Nothing that over the top.”
“But you are, ah, connected.”
I picked up my spoon, dunking it in the fragrant broth. “I am exactly what you need to protect you. To make sure this guy is out of your life for good.”
“And then?” she asked breathlessly.
“Then you have time for me.”
I loved how the color rushed to her cheeks. She picked up her spoon and concentrated on her soup, but I saw the smile that pulled on her lips. We both wanted that time.
* * *
“That was incredible,” she murmured, setting down her fork. The meal had been amazing. Soup, salad, pasta, beef medallions in a wine sauce, a decadent cheesecake, even the lattes had been exceptional. I was pleased to see her eat and enjoy her meal. We’d sat close the entire time, exclaiming over our favorites, laughing, and talking. I stole kisses whenever I could—light little pecks on her cheek, the end of her nose, her full lips, and more than once, I’d indulged in my desire to bury my face in her neck and kiss her there. Inhale her fragrance. It was about as perfect a dinner as it could be.
We shared more information about ourselves. She talked about her brother, who worked in Alberta in the fuel sector. I told her about growing up as the only child of an Italian immigrant father and Canadian mother. I made her laugh with my imitations of my mother and father arguing over their different cultures and which was the best way to raise me.