“Mrs. T. brought some games. She’s going to teach me to play Trouble and checkers.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Do you like to play games?”
“Yes, occasionally.”
“Will you play with me sometime?”
“I’d love to.”
Nathan stumbled into the room, still shoving his arms into his suit jacket. His hair was damp and his tie crooked, but he was smiling when his eyes met Caitlin’s.
“Sorry,” he said. “Kirk Sawyer got himself arrested for DWI again, and he insisted that I come down to the police station. I told him this is it—he’s going to have to find another lawyer from now on.”
Kirk Sawyer was a local sports hero who had played four seasons with a professional football team before ruining his knees and ending his career. He’d spent the ten years since strutting around town, filming cheesy commerci
als for his father’s successful car dealership and partying.
Had he not been who he was, he would already be serving time, but his reputation and his father’s money carried a bit too much weight in this town. Nathan wasn’t the first local lawyer who’d gotten tired of defending him.
Isabelle studied him critically. “Your tie’s messed up, Nate.”
He tugged at it, which succeeded in skewing it worse.
Caitlin shook her head. “Let me,” she said, stepping forward. She straightened the tie quickly and efficiently, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
He smiled down at her, obviously enjoying her attentions. “Thank you. You do that very well.”
“My father never learned how to tie a necktie. Not that he needed to wear one often. He only had one that he wore to weddings, funerals and the occasional job interview.”
Aware that Isabelle and Mrs. T. were watching them with interest, she patted the tie and stepped back. “There. That looks much better, doesn’t it, Isabelle?”
“Yes. Miss Caitlin looks pretty, doesn’t she, Nate?”
“Miss Caitlin looks beautiful,” he replied, and his tone made Caitlin fight a blush.
“Thank you. And now we had better go before we miss the opening number,” she said, carefully avoiding the housekeeper’s eyes as she turned toward the door.
“Have fun at the sympathy,” Isabelle called after them.
Nathan laughed. “I would correct her, but it just sounded too appropriate,” he told Caitlin as he opened the passenger door of his car for her.
Her own smile lasted until they were on the road. All of a sudden she was too intensely aware that she and Nathan were on a date. Sort of. And all of a sudden she could think of absolutely nothing to say.
As inconceivable as the notion seemed, Nathan appeared to be suffering from a similar problem. He cleared his throat. “So. We’re really doing this. Going out, I mean.”
She frowned intently through the windshield. “It’s hardly the first time we’ve spent an evening together. We’ve done things together in the past.”
“Those other times were for business. This is different.”
“We’re simply attending the symphony together, not slipping away for a weekend in Vegas.”
He grinned. “Actually, that Vegas thing sounds pretty good. We could be at the airport in forty-five minutes.”
She slanted him a look. “I doubt your baby-sitter would appreciate that.”
“You’re probably right. So how about if we slipped off to Disney World, instead? We can take Isabelle.”