Page 30 of Take the Bait

“The maître d’.”

Cam was on a first name basis with the maître d’ at a place like this? “How often do you come here?” she blurted.

“Whenever I have something to celebrate, I like to come here. It’s my favorite restaurant.” He held out his elbow for her. Wow. He was laying on the manners thick, tonight. Granted, this place was formal enough for polite gestures to seem appropriate.

“And what are we celebrating?” she asked him.

“Consider this my way of apologizing for our last encounter. I was totally out of line and I’m sorry.”

Well, shoot. She’d really enjoyed that kiss. While she knew it couldn’t happen again, she didn’t want the guy apologizing for blowing her mind. Unfortunately, the only way she could logically respond was to murmur, “Apology accepted.”

“Hungry?” he murmured as Jean-Phillipe led them toward their table.

“Mmm hmm. Starving.” She let just a hint of innuendo creep into the word. Not so much as to be cheap, but enough to let him know she was not frigid.

His gaze snapped to her, but his expression was too guarded for her to read his thoughts. This was, of course, the problem with being around attorneys socially. They were professionally trained to hide their real feelings.

Jean-Phillipe stopped beside a high-backed booth tucked in the back corner with a low, three-wicked candle providing the only light. Cam handed her into her seat, and she slid across the black velvet, appreciating its silky softness. Man. This spot screamed of romance.

“This is perfect, Jean-Phillipe,” Cam said warmly. “I don’t know how you always manage to come through for me like this, but I appreciate it.”

Cam had asked for this private, seductive booth, had he? Perfect. Her plan was going to be even easier to pull off tonight than she’d thought it would be.

Cam slid into the booth across from her. A waiter who’d obviously been remaining nearby, stepped up immediately to serve them, saying, “To go with your apéritif tonight, we have paté de foie gras and lobster in puff pastry.”

A second man with a white linen towel draped over his arm stepped up to the table and quietly introduced himself as the sommelier. He poured them two glasses of what turned out to be a crisp white wine that tickled Dani’s tongue.

She’d never had paté before and imitated Cam as he spread some of the spiced goose liver on a cracker and popped it in his mouth.

It was rich and savory and utterly delicious. If this was a harbinger of the meal to come, she was in for a treat. She took another sip of the wine, relishing how it cleared her palette and prepared her mouth for another bite of the yummy paté.

“How was your afternoon, counselor?” she asked, reaching for one of the lobster puffs.

“Interesting.” He launched into an explanation of a tricky legal argument a clever defense attorney had tried in court and how he’d avoided it.

Holy cow. The lobster was even more delicious than that paté. She could eat a whole plate of these suckers.

But despite how good the food was, she was more intrigued with how Cam had avoided the trap the other lawyer had laid for him. She made a suggestion for how the defense attorney could have sucked him back into the trap. Cam laughed and countered, and then she counter-countered.

He had fully as quick a mind as he’d already hinted at, and he was fun to spar with. He didn’t take her disagreeing with him personally, and they were able to have a spirited debate without getting emotional about it, which made the conversation even more entertaining.

The waiter interrupted long enough to ask which of the main courses they would like. Tonight, the choices were Tournedos Rossini, a beef filet mignon cooked in butter, served on a crouton, and topped with a hot slice of fresh whole foie gras and a madeira sauce, or Gallandais duck served whole and crisped with a plum chutney and orange coulis. When she couldn’t decide, Cam suggested they order one of each and share so she could taste both.

The waiter left and they resumed their vigorous legal debate. Eventually, they both leaned back as the waiter brought them a new wine to sample.

Cam declared, “I believe we have reached a draw.”

“Are you declaring the jury hung or conceding the point?” she retorted.

“I never concede.”

“Likewise,” she murmured, smiling over her glass at him and savoring the complex bite of an exceptional Bordeaux.

“Now that we’ve thoroughly dissected my day, how was yours?” he asked. To his credit, he actually sounded interested in hearing her answer. Huh. She’d assumed he would be a whole-world-revolves-around-me type. Most of the guys she’d gone to law school with had been that way.

She answered, “Well, I had a routine deposition in a divorce. There’s a solid pre-nup, and the fifth wife’s lawyer is trying to find a way to break it and get more of the soon-to-be ex’s millions.”

“God bless well written contracts,” Cam murmured.

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