next day, promptly at one, Alex walked into the restaurant and secured a window table for two. As he’d expected, Julie hadn’t made an appearance yet.
Alex ordered a glass of iced tea and the seafood appetizer the restaurant was known for—cold shrimp and crab in a spicy cocktail sauce—and settled in to wait.
Twenty minutes later, he had eaten most of the appetizer, and Julie still hadn’t shown up. Sighing, he whipped out his cell phone and hit the speed dial number for her cell.
“I know, I know,” she said when she answered. “Sorry. I slept through the alarm—I didn’t get home till almost dawn—but I’m on my way now. I’ll be there in ten.”
Alex just shook his head. It was pointless to be angry with her. Since he knew she was always late, he should have just waited and arrived thirty minutes later himself.
When she walked in—as promised, ten minutes later—he marveled at how fresh and pretty she looked. That was the advantage of being young. Late hours didn’t start to show until you were a lot older. Wearing a bright-yellow dress, long hair gleaming in the sunlight-filled restaurant, she resembled a younger version of Catherine Zeta Jones and drew admiring glances from the other diners. One man sitting alone at the bar stared at her so intently Alex was certain he was going to get up and try to talk to her. In fact, he leaned forward, putting one foot on the floor. But when Julie headed for Alex’s table, waving and giving him a wide smile, the man relaxed back in his seat again.
Alex stood to greet her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“This has got to be a record,” she said, “seeing you two days in a row.” Her perfume, something light and flowery, drifted around him.
He pulled her chair out and she sank gracefully into it.
“You look awfully pretty today,” he said, sitting again himself. “Hard to believe you got so little sleep.”
She took her napkin out of her water glass and put it on her lap. “Thank you. Now that I’ve reached the ripe old age of twenty-two, I’m trying to take better care of myself.”
Alex couldn’t have hoped for a better opening. “Funny you should say that, because that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Something in his expression or tone must have alerted her to the fact this might be a discussion she wouldn’t enjoy, because she frowned.
Just then their waiter approached, so Alex didn’t continue.
After she’d ordered something to drink, the waiter left them to study their menus.
“Well?” Julie said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to guess?”
“Why don’t we decide what we want to eat first? Otherwise we’ll keep getting interrupted.”
She looked as if she wanted to protest, but finally she just sighed and picked up her menu.
After placing their orders—Alex opted for the fried scallops, his favorite, and Julie ordered the crab quiche—Alex leaned forward and said, “Terrence talked to me last night. He’s worried about you.”
“Why?”
“He’s concerned that you might be involved with drugs.”
“What?” She looked aghast.
Alex studied her. Julie was a good actress, but he didn’t think her reaction was fake. She looked genuinely shocked.
“Geez,” she said. “You’d think he’d know me a little better than that. I know why he thinks this, Alex, but he’s wrong.”
“Why does he think it?”
“Because Penn—you met him last night, the really tall one with the sort of reddish hair?—was busted at a party where they were doing coke. But I don’t do drugs. I never have. They scare me.”
Alex felt tremendous relief. Her voice rang with conviction, and he believed her. “I’m really glad to hear that.”
“Did you really think I might be involved in that scene?”
“I didn’t know what to think. I only knew that Terrence is concerned enough to ask me to keep an eye on you while he’s gone.”
“Where’s he going now?”
“Singapore. Didn’t he tell you?”
She shrugged. “He might have. He travels so much, I lose track of what he’s doing.”
She stopped talking as their waiter appeared with their food.
Once he left them alone again, Alex said, “What happened with your friend Penn?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was he charged? You said he was busted.” He forked one of his scallops.
She grimaced. “Yes, he was charged with possession.”
“And what happened?”
“I don’t know. His dad’s pulling some strings, I think. You know his dad, actually. Senator Penn-bridge?” She ate some of her quiche.
Alex just shook his head. Why should that information surprise him? It happened too often, in his opinion. Kids with rich parents rarely paid the price for their foolish or unlawful behavior.
“I’d feel better if you didn’t run around with him anymore.”
Julie put her fork down and drank some of her iced tea. “But Alex, he’s my friend. I like him.”
“He sounds like a bad influence to me.”
“He’s learned his lesson. That bust scared the hell out of him.” Picking up her fork, she resumed eating.
“For now maybe,” Alex said skeptically.
“I told you. I don’t do drugs. Now will you quit worrying? And will you tell Dad to quit worrying, too? I’m not a child. I don’t need a keeper.”
Alex figured he knew how parents must feel when their kids got older and they couldn’t supervise their every moment as they did when they were little. You just had to trust that you’d taught them right and they’d be okay. Julie might be spoiled, but she was basically a good girl. She’d probably be just fine. Anyway, what choice did he have but to trust her?
As if she’d read his thoughts, she smiled and said, “Now, c’mon, Alex, quit looking so serious and let’s enjoy our food.”
Alex had always known when to fold. Returning his sister’s smile, he nodded and turned his attention to his lunch.
Normally, P.J. really enjoyed her weekends, but for some reason, this weekend she felt restless.
She did her laundry, cleaned her condo then took a long, leisurely bath and washed her hair. These activities should have made her feel virtuous and proud of herself. Instead,
