She could’ve and I wouldn’t have minded. While she looked stunning, I liked her best when she was naked. I knew enough about women to know now was not the time to tell her that. I would later, when she was naked.
“I’m a lawyer. I know I have a painful, boring job, but I’d rather go through a two-day deposition than to go through that experience again. Have you ever been in the lingerie department before?”
I didn’t know if I should commiserate with Paul over that scary task or get turned on by the idea of Emory picking out something super sexy. I turned and eyed her, wishing I had x-ray vision and could see what she had on beneath the dress, but she smiled sweetly at me, giving nothing away.
I reached for my water and took a big gulp. As Christy and Paul were commenting about something on the menu, Emory leaned in and said, her voice low enough so only I could hear, “It’s pink.”
I turned my head so our mouths were inches apart. “Pink?”
“And lacy.”
My mouth fell open when I realized what she was talking about. She grinned wickedly and picked up her own menu. Turnabout was fair play, so I put my hands in my lap, then moved my right so it rested on her thigh, my thumb slowly inching the hem of her dress upward.
Emory stiffened, but didn’t stop me. Well, she stopped me with her hand firmly on top of mine when I was getting close to feeling whether her panties were lacy or not. I never really intended to do anything in the middle of Casale’s restaurant, but I wanted to see how far she’d let me. And hell, now that my fingers were caressing the tender skin of her inner thigh, I wasn’t planning on moving it. I would eat left handed. I just had to pick something from the menu that didn’t involve using a knife.
EMORY
Mr. Casale, instead of the waiter, came to the table. “It would be my pleasure to select your meal for you.” I was thrilled with this because I couldn’t concentrate with Gray’s hand on my thigh. It settled just shy of my panties, his thumb moving slowly back and forth, as if telling me he wasn’t going any farther and that he liked that spot just fine.
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I liked the spot just fine too, but it had gotten awfully hot in the restaurant and my new pink panties were noticeably wetter than when I first arrived. Gray did nothing untoward or inappropriate the entire meal, but I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t move his hand. In fact, he ate left handed. The idea that he didn’t want to let go of my leg had me feeling…giddy. It was a real first date—a restaurant, a dress—although we did have chaperones. If they knew about the inappropriate hand placement under the table, they didn’t let on.
It was only when, after our plates were cleared and Mr. Casale pulled up a chair and sat down at the end of the table, did Gray move his hand. It seemed neither of us wanted the distraction for whatever the man had to say.
“I have heard on the street that someone is mad at you for not giving him drugs.”
Mr. Casale was looking at me and didn’t waste time by mincing words. Everyone else glanced at me as well. Drugs? Me? “What are you talking about?”
“You work at the free clinic?”
“On Saturday mornings, yes.”
“You can prescribe pain killers?”
“Yes.”
Gray took my hand in his, gave it a squeeze.
“You’ve cut off someone’s supply and they aren’t happy.”
My mouth fell open as I processed his words. “God, at first I thought you were accusing me of being a drug dealer, peddling meth on the street corner to little kids.” I sighed. “I write prescriptions for pain pills all the time. It could be any number of people.”
Mr. Casale tapped his chin thoughtfully. “This person, I have learned, harms women so they are seen at the clinic and receives the pain medication. Then keeps it for himself.”
“What does this have to do with Emory?” Gray asked.
“Rumor is they want her keys to get into the free clinic to get more.”
I glanced at Paul and Christy, who were listening carefully, confusion and surprise on their faces.
“I can’t just get into the medication. The clinic has one of those big machines that requires a password. It’s a big pill vault and has a computer connected to it. There’s no key.”
“There’s one in each department at the hospital as well. It’s strictly monitored and doesn't have all medications,” Christy added.
I nodded at Christy's words. “It keeps nurses and doctors from stealing and keeps records of what goes in and out. Harder stuff is delivered from the hospital pharmacy. At the clinic, there are no serious meds because we'd transfer them to the ER if it were needed.”
“Then he just wants the prescriptions, most likely the women get them filled and he takes the meds from them. Either way, you’ve cut off his supply, or one of them. Did you deny drugs to anyone recently?” he asked.