time in the restroom. If Maria had insisted on them both driving, she could have jotted down an apology on a napkin and sneaked out.
She regretted coming to dinner at all. She itched to be at the computer, squaring away her flight, or on the phone working the case instead of listening to Annalise tell her not to go to Key West.
At least she’d gotten it through her sister’s thick skull that she had no intention of meeting with Logan Collier.
The text tone on her cell phone buzzed. She rummaged through her voluminous leather purse on her lap, annoyed at herself for not putting the phone in the zippered compartment. The text was from Annalise and consisted of one word: Sorry.
“Hello, Maria.”
Logan. She jerked her gaze from her sister’s apologetic text to the man she’d once loved with her whole heart. The breath left her, exactly as if she’d been punched in the stomach.
He wasn’t quite six feet tall yet seemed taller because of his excellent posture. He was nearly as lean as he’d been as a teenager but more muscular. His thick brown hair was shorter, although it still sprang back from his forehead and the strands at his nape still curled. Age lent his regular features character and added fine lines that bracketed the hazel eyes she’d always thought were so pretty.
Maria had to consciously tell herself to stop staring and start breathing again. “Hello, Logan.”
“Mind if I join you?” He nodded to the chair Annalise had vacated after their waitress had cleared away the dinner dishes. Despite the apologetic text, Maria didn’t want to believe her sister had cut out on her.
“Annalise is sitting there,” she said.
“Was sitting there,” he corrected. “She’s gone.”
“I can’t believe it.” Maria shook her head as it sank in that her sister had abandoned her. “I told her I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“For the record, I thought you knew I was coming.” He indicated the chair again. “So can I sit down? You might want to say yes, because I’m your ride.”
Maria’s pulse skittered. It was all her sister’s fault. Annalise was going to pay.
“By all means.” She worked on composing herself while he took off his black wool car coat. Underneath he wore a burgundy long-sleeved shirt that made him appear vibrant and engaging. He settled across from her.
Before either of them could say a word, their young blonde waitress arrived with two cups of coffee and two slices of chocolate cheesecake. Annalise had remarked earlier in the evening that the girl looked as if she was having a bad day. Not anymore. A smile stretched across her pretty face.
“Well, hello there,” she said to Logan. “You must have just arrived. I couldn’t have missed you.”
“You’re right. I just got here.” One corner of Logan’s mouth lifted in a way that used to make Maria melt when they were teenagers.
The half smile appeared to have the same effect on the waitress. It had been that way in the old days, too. Females found Logan attractive. Maria had always thought it was because he didn’t seem to realize exactly how good-looking he was.
“My sister left,” Maria announced to get the waitress’s attention. “We won’t be having dessert and coffee, after all.”
“Are you sure?” She tilted her head and chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not certain I can take them back. You did order them.”
“Then just leave everything on the table,” Logan said. “We’ll be here for a little while longer.”
“Great!” Her enthusiasm was out of proportion to the situation. “Hope you enjoy!”
“Didn’t mean to step on your toes there, but she doesn’t seem real experienced,” he said when the waitress was gone. “Besides, I can always go for a piece of cheesecake.”
He’d always had a sweet tooth. In high school, when they were dating, Maria used to make it a point to have home-baked chocolate chip cookies on hand when they studied together at her house.
“By all means, dig in,” she said.
He took a bite of cheesecake, and her eyes arrowed straight to his mouth. With lips that were slightly full for a man’s, he had a gorgeous one. She shifted in her seat, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. They hadn’t been alone since they’d broken up, senior year of high school. In all that time, she’d seen him only once, at her brother’s memorial service. If, that is, she didn’t count the time she’d spotted him at the mall and ducked into a children’s clothing store to avoid him.
“How long are you home for?” she asked.
“Just a few days.” He’d never had much of an accent—most people who lived in the Lexington area didn’t—but any trace of Kentucky in his speech was entirely gone. “My parents are leaving for a cruise on Wednesday and I’ve got to get back to work.”
Ah, work. It defined him. If not for his insistence on going out of state to the University of Michigan to get a master’s degree in business so he could make the almighty buck, they’d still be together.
She’d wanted him to stick closer to home—and to her—by pursuing his dream of becoming a painter at an art school in Louisville. They could have moved into an apartment together, with Maria getting a job that would have paid the rent.
He’d called her proposal too risky, refusing to consider art school and declaring that he needed to be financially secure before he’d live with anyone.
The fact that he hadn’t loved her enough to take a chance on them still stung.
“Are you at the same firm in New York?” She didn’t know why she asked when she already knew the answer. The financial giant had hired Logan right out of college, where he’d managed to get both his bachelor’s degree and MBA in four years. If he’d changed jobs, Annalise would have mentioned it. She and her husband still used Logan to manage their finances. Since the firm where he worked was such a powerhouse, Maria was sure Logan kept them on as a favor.
“The same one,” he answered.
“And still conscientious, I see.” Maria couldn’t hold back the rest of her thought. “You’re rushing to get back to work when most other people are going on holiday.”
His shoulders stiffened. “It’s a good job.”
“I’m happy for you, then.” She wanted to know if he was still painting, except that was another volatile topic of discussion. Better to leave it be.
“How are things with you?” he asked.
“Can’t complain.” She picked up her fork, then put it down. She’d barely been able to choke down dinner. She wouldn’t be able to eat the dessert Annalise had talked her into ordering. “I quit the police force four years ago to go into private investigation. I’m a one-woman show, but I like it that way.”
“I heard you got divorced,” he said.
She was probably imagining the edge to his
