to block his view as they crossed the plush lobby. If any man was going to ogle the woman, it wasn’t going to be some shifty-eyed kid in a flashy two-toned suit and a bolo tie.
Not until they were outside did he answer her question. “It’s all personal stuff, isn’t it? Nothing to do with the estate?”
“The boxes? As far as I know.”
“Then let’s let it ride, okay? What do say we stop by the Royal for some chili and coconut pie?” He made the offer only because he’d kept her long past lunch time. All he really wanted to do was go home, watch headline news and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.
Well, maybe not all… “Or if you’d rather, we could drive over to Claire’s.”
And then, damned if she didn’t start crying, right there in broad daylight.
Thank God the Saturday-morning traffic was light.
Well, hell…
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