likely, but probably best not to discount the possibility.
“Who else is there?” she asked.
Carson handed her another report.
She appreciated that he included her, but she needed time to read through these.
“Evita Marrero was the housekeeper,” he explained for her. “She quit after the kiddnapping and according to my father’s report, not on friendly terms.”
Georgia sat back against the seat. “Ruby told me about that. Reginald was hard on her. She hates him. She won’t feel like helping us.”
“We’ll see.”
“Why did Reginald want to talk to them? I can see the neighbor, because of the trouble she was in, but the housekeeper? Do you think he had an affair with her that ended badlly?”
“No. He was faithful to Patsy, although I don’t know why.”
“He wasn’t the same person back then, though, was he?” He was nicer as far as Georgia could tell.
“No,” Carson reluctantly answered.
She took in his perturbed face. It bothered him that his dad might have been different. “And if he was faithful to his wife, then he must have hung on to some of his principles.”
“Yes.”
“It is important that your woman stays faithful?” she asked. Those pesky sparks had compelled her. She was curious about him. Or was she hoping she was wrong about him?
“Well, yeah. Who wants the person they’re involved with to cheat on them? Anyone who does has no respect for the one they’ve betrayed.”
She told herself that she’d already started this conversation. She may as well finish it. “You talk like a man who’s experienced it firsthand.”
A flight attendant stopped by and greeted them, interrupting and offering menus.
Carson put the papers down and took the menus, then asked for a specific bottle of champagne with strawberries.
Georgia eyed him as the flight attendant said, “Of course, sir.”
They’d get into Raleigh well after dinner, so they’d have to eat on the plane. That hardly warranted champagne. Georgia saw what he was doing and didn’t comment.
“Strawberries?” she asked.
“Delicious with champagne. One of my favorite combinations.” He leaned closer. “And something we rich people love to indulge in.”
Champagne and strawberries. Where was the caviar?
“I’ve had it before.”
He leaned back. “There you have it, then. You have rich tastes and I bet you never even knew it.”
She couldn’t help smiling, and even breathed a laugh. “How much is that champagne going to cost you?”
“More than you’ve ever paid.”
Was he being deliberately pretentious? “I could let you spoil me. Use you for your money just for a good time.”
His gaze floated all over her upper body and face. “You aren’t that type of woman.”
“How would you know? I made a promise to myself never to get trampled by a wealthy man.” The way Ruby had. She’d stick to her own class. One never could predict the future. Ruby sure hadn’t been able to. “I could be using you.”
He actually chuckled.
“You barely know me,” she said.
“I have a first impression. And I’m good at reading people. Your only hang-up is you don’t really know jack about rich people.”
Georgia had no idea why she was enjoying herself so much. He’d be insulting if he wasn’t talking in such a witty tone. But then, so would she.
“Oh, and is it your job, now, to teach me about them?”
“I think it’s going to be the first thing I’ve had the privilege to choose to do on my own since I was forced to leave the Marines.”
What did he mean by that? Before she could ask, the attendant returned for their dinner order.
“Do you mind if I choose?” he asked Georgia, showing her the menus.
She shrugged. He was playing some sort of game with her, and she discovered she didn’t mind. And he liked being able to choose on his own. He could try to prove rich people weren’t all snobs and the middle class had it all wrong. She wasn’t going to buy it. “As long as it’s not slimy or has tentacles, I’m okay with that.”
“Right in line with my taste.”
With another one of his sexy grins, he read the menu and then waited for the attendant to return. Then he ordered the filet mignon with grilled asparagus.
Georgia let him have his fun, telling herself it was harmless as long as she was immune to him. And it could be worse. She could be on his private jet.
When the attendant left, he said, “To pick up from earlier, I wasn’t speaking from experience. No one’s ever cheated on me, and I’ve never cheated on anyone. It’s up there with robbery and animal cruelty for me.”
It was so nonchalant that she had to stop and think about what he was saying. Why was it so important to him that she know he’d never been cheated on? Because of her perception of him? Maybe he didn’t want her to think that rich people didn’t have morals. It wasn’t his fault he was part of a ridiculously wealthy family.
“You feel strongly about it.”
“Yes.”
This wasn’t because of her perception of him. He really didn’t like cheaters. “You’re a real stand-up kind of guy, aren’t you?” Her surprise came out in her voice.
“Has anyone ever cheated on you?” he asked.
“No.” But that brought up thoughts she’d rather didn’t enter her conscience. She turned away from him.
He angled his head as though trying to see her face. “Something I said?”
“No.” She shook her head, shaking off the dark thoughts along with it.
He watched her a moment and then didn’t ask her any more questions. He gave her space. He’d nudged, but he knew when to back off, and she appreciated that. More than he could possibly know, and more than she’d tell him.
The champagne arrived, strawberries floating on the surface. Georgia took a glass from the attendant. The woman left and she met the play of mischief that had returned to Carson’s eyes.
“Is this what you do when you fly on your family jet?” she asked.
“No.
