Hothouse Orchid (Holly Barker 6)

“Will do,” she said. “My good crystal is in the car. I’ll go get it.”

Teddy put the vegetables on, then went into the bedroom and changed into a silk shirt and new trousers he had bought at the Ralph Lauren outlet store in Vero. He slipped on a new pair of alligator loafers that he had gotten on sale on the Internet, then he checked himself in the mirror. He was definitely not the man he had been when Holly last saw him, and, besides, he had been employing a soft, southern accent since his arrival in Vero Beach.

Teddy walked back into the living room and viewed the first place setting. “Great!” he said. “You brought linen napkins, too.”

“Oh, yes. My mother would have turned over in her grave if I’d put out the good china and crystal and not put out the linens.”

Teddy picked up a wine goblet. “Baccarat,” he said. “My favorite.”

“What do we have for wine?” Lauren asked.

“Two bottles of Far Niente chardonnay in the fridge and two of Far Niente cabernet for the main course on the sideboard, one breathing. They’re delicious, and they have the advantage of the world’s most beautiful labels.” He set the open bottle on the table, between the silver candlesticks she had brought.

“There,” she said. “Just perfect. Now I’ve got to go change.” She ran into the bedroom with a garment bag.

Teddy went back to the kitchen, just in time to turn off the vegetables. As he did, he heard the driveway alarm chime, so he took off his apron and went to the door, running through his mind the differences between his Jack voice, which was mostly his own, and the last voice Holly had heard him speak.

He opened the door and went out onto the porch just as Holly and her friend were getting out of a Mercedes. “Good evening,” he said, “I’m Jack Smithson.”

“I’m Josh Harmon,” the man said, extending a hand.

Holly came from around the car. “Hi, I’m Holly Barker,” she said, offering her hand.

“And I’m Jack Smithson,” Teddy replied, shaking it. “Come on in and let’s get a drink. Lauren is still dressing, as you might imagine.” He led them into the house. “What can I get you?” he asked.

“Knob Creek on the rocks,” Holly said, “if you have it. Not everybody does.”

“I have it,” Teddy said, scooping up some ice and pouring the drink.

“Scotch for me,” Josh said.

“I have Johnnie Walker Black or Laphroaig, a single malt.”

“Oh, the Laphroaig, that’s a real treat.”

Teddy poured Josh’s drink, and then one each for Lauren and himself. He carried her drink into the bedroom, zipped up her dress for her and handed her the drink. “They seem very nice,” he said.

She took a quick sip of her Scotch. “Well, get back in there and charm the socks off them.”

Teddy returned to the living room, seated them on the sofa and settled into a chair. “So, Josh, you’re an ER doctor at the Indian River Hospital?”

“That I am.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Sometimes exciting, sometimes a little too exciting,” Josh replied.

“And Holly, you’re with the CIA?”

“That’s right.”

“In what capacity?”

“I’ve recently been appointed assistant deputy director of operations.”

“Operations, is that the analysis part or the spy part?”

“It’s the spy part,” she said.