With her insides turned to mush, Violet finished, “Berries with cream.”
She watched JT put a piece of steak in his mouth and chew reverently. “This is amazing. There’s nothing to compare at Titanium.”
He was in such a good mood she hated to spoil it with the question that had plagued her all day: what was he going to do about the information Tiberius had dug up on George Barnes?
“I was lucky Chef Baron agreed to open his third restaurant with us,” Violet said, squashing her curiosity.
“I’m sure luck had nothing to do with it,” JT said. “You can be quite persuasive.”
The compliment warmed her faster than a July day on the strip. “When I know what I want, I go after it.”
“I’m very aware of that.” A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. “In fact, I’m amazed that you haven’t asked if I’ve decided to call Charity Rimes. I imagine you’re dying to know.”
“I’d be lying if I said it’s the furthest thing from my thoughts.” She carefully phrased her next words. “But I can’t imagine what a difficult choice you have to make.”
“If you’d found out Tiberius had done something terrible, what would you do?”
The question was fair, but it left Violet with a terrible conundrum. She’d always had faith in Tiberius. He’d taken her in and loved her like his daughter. Her faith in his honesty had never been shaken.
“I’d like to say that I’d turn him in and never doubt myself for doing so.” Violet gave JT’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “But I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself for being disloyal.”
JT carried her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “After dinner, let’s call Charity Rimes.”
“Okay.” Delighted that JT trusted her to help, Violet tucked into the meal with gusto. “I’m glad I didn’t order a heavy dessert,” she said as they dueled over the last berry. “I don’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
“Everything tasted so good, it was hard to stop.”
Leaving the dishes for later, JT tugged Violet toward the couch. Together they sank into its softness. With JT’s left arm around her shoulder and his right hand playing absently with the tie of her robe, Violet waited for some sign from JT that he was ready to hear what Charity Rimes had to say.
“Do you think my father belongs in jail?”
“If he stole someone’s identity, yes.”
JT closed his eyes and for a brief moment sadness blanketed his expression. Violet’s chest tightened sympathetica
lly at his pain. She wished she could take it away. She wanted nothing but happiness for him. But she could only offer comfort and support. JT would have to resolve his ambivalence on his own.
“Make the call,” he said, his voice hard and determined.
Reluctant to budge from the circle of JT’s arm, but knowing she had to act while he was still in a mood to find out what the writer knew, Violet snagged her cell off the coffee table and found Charity’s number. She dialed and then held the phone so JT could listen.
“Yes?” A male voice answered.
Violet and JT exchanged a puzzled look. “Hello. I’m looking for Charity Rimes.”
“Are you a friend?”
The man’s question awakened Violet’s anxiety. “Not exactly. My name is Violet Fontaine. She spoke with my father several months ago about a book she was writing. I was hoping to find out what she told him.”
“Can’t you just ask him?”
She wanted to demand he let her speak to Charity, but some instinct stopped her. “He died.” She left out the part where Tiberius had been murdered.
A long silence followed. At last the man spoke. “I’m sorry about your father, but Charity won’t be able to help you right now. She was in an accident. Her car was T-boned by an SUV.”
“Is she okay?”
“She has some broken ribs and a head injury that the doctors want to monitor.”