LASSOED BY FORTUNE

by Marie Ferrarella

  He made it sound as if the restaurant had some sort of evil powers. She refused to believe that he actually believed that.

  “They built that place,” he went on, “and then everything else you see kind of fell into place around it.” Liam clearly meant it as a criticism. “The shops. The traffic. The ‘luxury estates…’” He all but sneered.

  Liam obviously thought of it as some sort of pending doom.

  She, however, saw what had been achieved as a model for her own goal. But rather than argue with Liam about it, which she knew would happen if she started trying to point out favorable things about the restaurant to him, she decided to try another, more practical approach to the problem in front of her.

  “Have you ever been inside the restaurant, Liam?” she asked him.

  He stared at her. The question had caught him off guard and he wasn’t prepared for it. “Me?”

  “Well, I don’t see anyone else in the truck and I know I haven’t been inside the restaurant. Have you ever eaten there?” she asked, phrasing her question another way.

  He debated lying, then decided against it. He had a feeling that somehow she’d know and then she’d dismiss everything he had to say. So he went with the truth, which was a lot simpler to keep track of.

  “No, I haven’t,” he admitted and then asked defensively, “What does that have to do with anything?”

  He was kidding, right? The whole point of a restaurant was what was inside it, what it served, the kind of people doing the serving as well as the cooking, not the physical building itself.

  “It has everything to do with it. Stop the truck. We’re going to go in and eat there,” she told him with finality, leaving no room for argument.

  “Why, Julia Tierney, are you asking me out on a date?” he asked, pretending to be shocked. He was clearly amused.

  Julia felt as if she’d been blindsided.

  Had he done this on purpose? Had he deliberately set her up?

  Looking at him now, she couldn’t decide whether he had, but they both needed to go inside the restaurant and sample the food—he more than she. But she also needed to set Liam straight right from the beginning. Otherwise, she had a feeling she was never going to live this down. Not that the idea of going out with him didn’t appeal to her, but it would have to have been clear from the beginning—and he would have to have asked her out to begin with, not thrown out a vague suggestion. Otherwise, he would make it out as something she’d done, and there was no way she was going to ask him out on a date.

  “No, this isn’t a ‘date,’ this is just research. I wouldn’t go out on a date with you,” she informed him pointedly. “I wouldn’t in high school and I won’t now.”

  When she’d turned him down in high school—the only girl who had—it had stung his ego badly. He was surprised that the memory still bothered him a little.

  The difference being that this time around, he knew how to cover things up a whole lot better.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it,” he told her glibly. “There’re a lot of women around in Horseback Hollow who can tell you that you’re really missing out on something.”

  “What I’d be missing is my brain if I thought of this as anything but what it is—research,” she stressed with feeling.

  The next moment, since he had stopped the truck as she’d asked, Julia got out on her side. Closing the door, she looked in at him. “Well, are you coming along? Or are you afraid that I’m right and you don’t want to be forced to admit it?”

  That did it for him. Liam was out of the truck in a second, locking it behind him.

  “The day I’m afraid of anything that you might have to dish out is the day I pack it in and just give up altogether. You, missy, are wrong—on a lot of counts. And I’m going to take extreme pleasure in proving it to you and in hearing you say ‘You were right, Liam’ when this is all over.”

  He walked slightly ahead of her to the restaurant’s double doors. The establishment’s hours were posted to the right of them. Luckily, they had opened for lunch merely a half hour ago.

  Which meant that they were free to go in.

  He held the door open for her. “Let the adventure begin,” he said.

  She looked at him as she walked past Liam and went inside.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she informed him tersely.

  Neither one of them had a clue what the other actually meant by that but there was no way either of them was about to admit that.

  Chapter Seven

  The atmosphere within the upscale restaurant seemed incredibly tranquil and soothing.

  The words soft and romantic were the first two that sprang to mind when Julia looked around. Instrumental love songs drifted through the air, thanks to a better-than-average sound system. The music was just loud enough to be detected, yet quiet enough not to be obtrusive.

  This was definitely a place, Julia concluded, designed for lovers and couples who wanted to become lovers.

  She and Liam did not belong here, she thought. But to suddenly turn around and walk out of the restaurant at this point would only seem odd and attract unwanted attention. Not to mention some undoubtedly snappy, unwanted comments from Liam.

  They were here so they might as well stick it out, Julia decided, scanning the immediate area for a second time. Maybe she’d learn something she could use when she talked to Wendy and Marcos about the design and theme of the restaurant they were looking to build in Horseback Hollow.

  “First time here?” a tall, slender blonde asked them with an understanding smile. She was wearing a name tag and looked every inch the hostess as she indicated that they were to follow her into the dining room.

  “How can you tell?” Julia asked. Did they look as if they were so out of place to this woman?

  “It shows in your faces,” the hostess answered. “I promise you’ll be repeat customers soon enough.” Her words were accompanied by a light laugh.

  Even her laughter was soft, blending in delicately with the rest of the ongoing muted sounds in the restaurant.

  As she followed behind the hostess and her eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting, Julia saw that the restaurant appeared to be full to capacity. By her calculation, it had only been open since twelve-thirty. Business was apparently very good.

  “Is it always like this?” Julia asked the young woman walking ahead of them.

  The slender blonde turned around. “No, it’s usually a lot busier than this,” she replied in all seriousness. “Standardly, we have a long waiting line out front. But if you’re wondering, your privacy is guaranteed,” she promised. “Will this booth be all right?” she asked, stopping at a booth for two.

  The booth was part of several set up along the wall, each one cleverly arranged so that it gave the impression of being isolated from the others, even though it wasn’t.

  “The booth is fine,” Julia replied. “But we really don’t need to have our privacy guaranteed,” she added.

  “Speak for yourself. I don’t want anyone to know I’m here,” Liam said, waiting for Julia to slide into the booth first so that he could finally sit down himself. He had been hungry for more than the past half hour and his stomach was growling, more than a little impatient, waiting to be fed.

  “I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Jones,” Julia told him shortly. “The kind of people you know wouldn’t be found in a nice place like this.” Her voice was distant, but that was his fault. He’d stung her pride with his dig about not wanting to be caught in a romantic restaurant with her.

  “You two have been a couple for a while now, haven’t you?” the hostess asked knowingly, handing each of them a menu.

  “No,” Liam declared, looking at the hostess as if she had a trifle too many birds perched on her antenna.

  “Not even for a few seconds,” Julia denied with feeling.

  “Sorry, my mistake,” the woman said, although she didn’t sound as if she was really convinced that she had made one. She paused a moment longer to e
xplain the possible misunderstanding. “It’s just that the two of you sounded so intense, I just naturally assumed that you had been together a long time.”

  “We haven’t been together at all,” Julia told the hostess with feeling. “We just know each other from high school. Slightly,” she underscored.

  There was an enigmatic smile on the hostess’s lips as she nodded and murmured, “I see.” The smile crept into her eyes. “Your server will be here in a few minutes,” she promised, then lowered her voice just a touch more before saying, “Enjoy your first time.”

  “She didn’t say ‘here,’” Julia said, her voice slightly agitated after the woman had retreated to the front of the restaurant.

  Liam stared at her. Julia was babbling, he thought. “What?”

  “‘Here,’” Julia repeated. “That hostess should have said ‘Enjoy your first time here,’ but she left off the last word.”

  He didn’t see what the big deal was. From where he was sitting, Julia was getting herself all worked up over nothing. “Maybe it was implied and she just forgot to say it.”

  Julia looked in the direction that the hostess had disappeared. She shook her head. “No, I really don’t think so.”

  “Okay,” Liam answered gamely—and then his voice dropped seductively. “So maybe she really meant for us to enjoy our first time.”

  Julia didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. There was what she could only refer to as a wicked smile curving Liam’s rather full mouth and that, in turn, could only mean one thing.

  Incensed, Julia raised her chin defiantly. “It would take a lot more than soft lighting and soft music to make that happen.”

  “Well, according to the hype, the soft lighting and soft music in this place are supposed to be the starting point. That’s the purpose for all this, am I right?” he asked her pointedly.

  How did she manage to get backed into a corner like this? “Much as I hate to say it, yes, you’re probably right,” she grudgingly admitted.

  Liam leveled a look at her. Ordinarily he didn’t mind matching wits and exchanging barbs, but somehow, it just didn’t seem right in a place like this. Since they were here—and he was hungry—he made up his mind to make the best of the situation. But only if she wasn’t going to be waspish.

  He gave her a choice. “Look, you want to bicker or do you want to see what the food is like here?”

  He was being reasonable, she realized—and worse, she wasn’t. Who would have ever thought—?

  “Sorry, you’re right. We should order and see what’s good.” After all, that was why, at bottom, she had come here.

  “Wow.” He looked properly surprised just before he added, “Alert the media. We came to an agreement.”

  “So how about we strike a temporary truce?” she suggested.

  “Absolutely,” he told her with enthusiasm, putting out his hand across the table.

  Julia hesitated for a moment, then slipping her hand into his, she shook it.

  Their waiter, a tall young man with sandy-brown hair, perfect, chiseled features, gleaming white teeth and no hips to speak of, approached, greeted them unobtrusively and left them with a basket of warm, crisp bread, pats of butter wrapped in silver foil and the promise to return for their orders “soon.”

  “At least he didn’t recite the specials of the day,” Julia commented. That tradition, meant to be helpful, had for some reason always gotten on her nerves.

  “Maybe they’re all special,” Liam quipped. He skimmed the two pages that made up the menu. The specials were listed at the top of the first page. “Or maybe he just assumes we know how to read.”

  Julia laughed at his comment. Liam could be amusing when he wanted to be, she grudgingly—and silently—admitted.

  “What looks good to you?” she asked Liam, glancing over the two long, descriptive columns that comprised the restaurant’s afternoon menu.

  When Liam didn’t answer, she raised her eyes from her menu and began to ask her question again, but the sentence remained stuck on her tongue, unable to move, to materialize. He was looking at her pointedly, answering her question without saying a word.

  And just like that, she could feel the room around her growing warmer. Could feel heat creeping up the sides of her neck, threatening to turn everything in its path a unique shade of pink.

  Julia’s innocent question had instantly brought a single word to his mind as well as to his tongue.

  You.

  Mercifully, Liam managed to stop the word before it actually emerged and wound up embarrassing both of them. He was rather certain that he wouldn’t have had a clue how to talk himself out of that one.

  But the incriminating word hadn’t been said aloud, so, for now he was safe and as long as he made no slips, everything was going to be all right.

  After a beat Liam replied, “Not sure yet. There’s a lot of flowery rhetoric to wade through. In my experience, good food speaks for itself. If it can’t, it might mean it’s not so good after all and it’s just trying to pull the wool over your eyes with a lot of pretty ten-dollar adjectives.” He decided to give her an example of the point he was making.

  “I once bought a watch that was supposed to be waterproof. The ad claimed it ‘laughed’ at water. One day I accidentally spilled some water on it and not only didn’t the watch ‘laugh’ at the water, it didn’t even so much as chuckle. The damn thing died less than five minutes later, never to ‘tick’ again. The bottom line is if something’s good, it doesn’t have to convince you of the fact.”

  “You might have a point,” she heard herself saying grudgingly. Maybe all the adjectives that went along with this place were overkill. She made a mental note to herself to be careful of overkill.

  “Wow, you agreed with me twice in one day.” He pretended to cover his heart to keep it from leaping out of his chest—or worse. “I’m going to get a swelled head.”

  “‘Going to?’” she echoed, dryly questioning his last comment.

  “And she’s back.” Liam couldn’t resist mimicking the voice of a radio announcer making an introduction.

  “I never left,” she informed him dryly.

  The waiter returned, looking from one to the other, a silent question in his soulful brown eyes. Julia ordered something referred to as Heaven’s Promise, while Liam pointed to an item called Love At Last. The waiter pronounced them both excellent choices and promised to return within a few minutes with their meals.

  “You know what you ordered?” Liam asked her after the waiter had left.

  “Chicken—” The note of confidence left her voice after a beat. “I think, but I’m not sure.”

  Liam laughed, nodding his head. “Actually, I think we both did.”

  “Should be interesting,” she ventured, looking forward to comparing the meals once they arrived.

  “We’ll see,” he replied.

  He noticed that she was scanning the area again, doing her best to take in the other booths. But they were, as the hostess had promised, arranged so as to maximize the occupants’ privacy. He could either watch her, or make small talk. But he had no patience with either.

  Instead he decided to ask out of the blue, “So what happened between you and the perfect husband?”

  Her head whipped around. Julia looked at him, completely stunned. “What?”

  “You and Neal,” he elaborated. “Neal seemed like perfect husband material. He was a lawyer, faithful— He was faithful, right?” he asked, checking.

  “Yes, he was faithful,” she snapped. There was no way she wanted to chance Liam starting a rumor that Neal had fooled around. Neal was one of the good guys and deserved better. She wasn’t about to see his reputation dragged through the mud just because Liam happened to have a fanciful mind.

  “And he was good-looking—if you liked that all-American look,” Liam qualified, making it sound like a minus instead of a plus. “On paper, you two sound perfect for each other. So what went wrong?”

  She couldn’t bel
ieve the nerve of this man. “And what makes you think that’s any business of yours?” She really wanted to know.

  “Well, we have to talk about something and talking about the weather gets boring fast. But we argue about everything else, so I thought this might be the one topic that was safe to talk about. If you don’t want to,” he continued gamely, “we could just stare at one another until the waiter comes back. Then we can pretend to be busy stuffing our faces, making it impossible to chew and talk at the same time—”

  Julia sighed. He had a point, she admitted grudgingly. And she really didn’t mind talking about Neal. She supposed this came under the heading of making the best of an uncomfortable situation.

  “Nothing ‘happened,’” she finally told Liam. “The marriage had just run out of steam.”

  That presupposed that there had been steam once upon a time. He found that a little hard to believe. Neal Baxter had as much vibrancy about him as a prescription tranquilizer.

  “Then there was steam to begin with?” Liam asked her.

  Ordinarily she would have indignantly replied that of course there had been steam. Lots of it. But the way Liam was looking at her—as if he could read her thoughts—she had a feeling that he knew that “steam” between Neal and her had never been part of the equation. Moreover, that he somehow knew that hers had been just a marriage not of convenience, but a convenient marriage.

  “Neal was a really nice guy and we were friends,” she told him. “I think we both got married hoping that what we had would grow. Instead, it just stagnated. We were far better friends than lovers.” The second the words were out of her mouth, Julia was suddenly stunned that she had actually said that. Flustered, she attempted to cover it up. “What I mean—”

  He could almost read her mind and feel her sudden panic—as well as know the reason for it. It wasn’t hard to guess.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to quote you anywhere. It goes no further.” He looked at her knowingly. “So what you’re saying is that there was no spark between the two of you, no flash and fire.” It wasn’t a guess on his part but a reaffirmation.