Page 46 of Midnight Secrets

Isabel smiled. “That sounds great. We’re just finishing up lunch, Suzanne. You’re welcome to join us. You might know that Joe, Metal and Jacko have helped me, um, make the house more secure.”

“I wish I could stay.” Suzanne’s beautiful face tightened. “And yes, I heard you had a Peeping Tom. This should keep any Peeping Toms away.”

Wow. Women really did have some sort of underground intel network that put the CIA to shame.

Isabel smiled. “We’re about to have coffee. Can you join us for that?”

Suzanne hesitated, checked her watch, finally sighed. “Oh, I would love to! But I’m going to be late for my appointment as it is.”

“Biscotti,” Isabel said coaxingly. “My special recipe.”

Suzanne closed her eyes briefly. “Don’t tempt me. But I’ll take a rain check, if I may.”

“Anytime,” Isabel said simply and they smiled at each other.

Suzanne Huntington was the classiest woman Joe had ever seen. There was just something about her that couldn’t be explained and couldn’t be quantified and yet was absolutely real. She was, as usual, dressed in an elegant tailored suit in a light color—she had an endless stock of them—and she looked like a million dollars. Not a hair out of place.

Isabel’s hair was mussed, she was dressed in a track suit, she had a touch of flour on her cheek, and she looked like a million dollars, too. They both had looks that had nothing to do with makeup or clothes or a hair salon. They were naturally beautiful and naturally classy.

Suzanne smiled. “The invitation to the lodge is real but I’ve also come to ask a favor and I have nothing to bribe you with.”

Isabel tilted her head in confusion. “Bribe me? Everyone has been so kind, you certainly don’t have to bribe me for a favor. I’ll do anything I can.”

“Good.” Suzanne was holding a pair of soft purple leather gloves and she slapped them against her other hand. “So. My friend who is setting up this resort lodge on Mount Hood was supposed to have a chef from San Francisco arriving but he broke a leg. So she has a kitchen staff that is very competent but no one to plan out a menu. I’m wondering?—”

“Oh!” Isabel’s eyes rounded. “If you think I’m up to it, I’d love to help!”

Suzanne gave an unladylike snort. “If you’re up to it? I used to read your blog all the time. You’re more than up to it. There will be about fifty of us, half of them the men from ASI whose tastes are hardy and simple—” She glanced with amusement at Joe, Metal and Jacko. “And the other half are their plus ones and my side of the aisle, who have more, let’s say, sophisticated tastes. A fun mix. My friend really needs help with the menu. Can I put the two of you together?”

“Sure.” Isabel and Suzanne brought out their cells and exchanged numbers.

Suzanne gave a sigh. “I am really sorry to have to go. But before I do…” She placed an elegant hand on Isabel’s shoulder. “Let me say how very sorry I am for your loss. The Massacre was a tragedy for our country and for all the people lost. I would have voted for your father. He was a good man.”

“He was. Thank you,” Isabel said simply, placing her hand over Suzanne’s.

Suzanne bent forward and gave her a hug, surreptitiously wiping under her eye. “So, I’ll be in touch about the menu,” she said briskly when she pulled away. “I’m leaving you in excellent hands and say hello to Felicity and Lauren. If Allegra can make it, she said she’d pop in to say hello, too.”

“I’m such a fangirl,” Isabel said.

“I’ll be sure to let her know. Douglas said he’d stop by with tickets for the concert. Did he?”

“Oh yeah.” Isabel pointed with pride at the two tickets on the coffee table.

Suzanne smiled. “One thing you’ll learn about these guys—” She waved her arm to include Joe and Metal and Jacko, who had barely lifted his head from his plate. “They’re really reliable. If they say they’ll do something they’ll do it.”

“I know.” Isabel smiled at Joe and it was like a punch to the stomach. “I’ve got a bank vault of a house to prove it.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Suzanne looked at her watch again and winced. “Must go, bye!” She kissed the air and was gone in a cloud of perfume.

“You okay, honey?” Metal and Jacko were back to the food, really absorbed in what they were eating. Joe bent down and kissed Isabel’s cheek, but really it was an excuse to touch her skin. He’d never felt skin that velvety before. Strands of her hair caught on his stubble. He fingered his chin. He had to shave or he’d rough up that smooth soft skin tonight.

And man, he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want anything rough to touch her, ever again. He himself had big, rough hands but he took care to touch her gently. She was so soft all over, particularly that warm wet softness between her legs.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe because you’ve got your house invaded by men who from the looks of it haven’t eaten in a year. Then their women are coming over and you’ve promised to feed them. Then Suzanne comes over and asks for help in preparing for this big party. Is it too much?”

She didn’t even pretend not to understand what he was saying. She’d led the most secluded life he’d ever seen for these past three months. Now that he knew her background, he understood why. Massive trauma, the terrible aftereffects of the Massacre. She’d fled here to Portland to hide away from the world.

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