Page 27 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Oh.”
Silence, glorious silence. Too many people didn’t like silence; they’d rush to fill it and trip themselves up. Cops, lawyers, and loan officers banked on it.
Not Lila. Awkward silences could be useful. And she’d long perfected her less-is-more Q&A system. The person peppering her with questions would eventually get impatient (and slip up) or bored (and slip up) or frustrated (and slip up) or hungry (and leave to eat). Nine times out of ten, “yes—no—I dunno” was good for a favorable outcome.
Ox cleared his throat. “So, lunch? Today? C’mon, say yes.”
But one in ten was revealed to be a persistent bastard with piercing green eyes and a tailored suit with a black duster that should have made him look like aMatrixwannabe but didn’t, and here she was already getting distracted,fuck.
Incredibly, she heard herself say, “I work in downtown Saint Paul. The Hamm Building. If you wanted to meet there. Or not. I don’t care.” Even as she heard the words gushing out of her mouth, she couldn’t believe she just warmly agreed to lunch with a near stranger and gave that same near stranger her work address. Clearly a week for firsts.
“Meritage!” Garsea practically shouted. Lila gave thanks for leaving the Beretta in the bathroom, otherwise Ox’s lady friend might have had to deal with a bullet in her knee.
“Sorry?”
Ox leaned in. “Annette was a foodie before ‘foodie’ was code for ‘pretentious jackoff.’ She knows every restaurant in town. She’s memorized every menu, interviewed every chef, intimidated every maître d’, grilled every line cook, and harangued every sommelier.”
“Oh, I have not!”
“Grown men weep when she walks through the door. Food critics go toherfor suggestions. Also, Meritage is a restaurant if that wasn’t already clear in context.”
Garsea clapped a hand over her eyes. “GoodGod. You’re making me sound like someone abnormally, even obsessively, interested in foo—well, that’s fair.” To Lila: “You’ve got to try it, their chilled seafood platter is astounding and the profiteroles will make you think you’ve seen God. But avoid thesalade Niçoise. Not enough tuna.”
Let’s zero in a bit, shall we? Because what the hell is happening right now?“So lunch would be on IPA?”
Ox’s smile slipped a bit. “Yeah. Business, not personal.” A short silence, broken when he added, “So don’t worry.”
“Whenever someone has told me not to worry, there’s been something to worry about. Every single time.”
The smile slipped the rest of the way off. “Oh.” The big lug’s shoulders slumped a little. “Well, if you don’t want—”
“Meet you there at noon.”
“What?” Up came the shoulders. Like magic! “I mean, great!”
“But I have to go to work now,” Lila added, hoping they would notice they were blocking her driveway. She shut the back doors with a decisive slam. “So I’ll see you at noon.”
“If I may ask,” Garsea said, eyeing the vehicle, “are you an EMT?”
“No.”
“Oh. But then why…never mind.”
Lila couldn’t help it; she smiled again. Some people could make you like them. It was a knack, like being able to whistle through your teeth or belch the alphabet. It didn’t mean they were good. Just charismatic. Or, in the case of the belching, had great breath control.
“C’mon, Annette.”
“You c’mon, Oz. Coming here was my idea.Youshould be following inmywake.”
Bemused, Lila called after them, “Siblings?”
And, even funnier, Annette replied, “No!” even as Ox answered “Yes!”
Weirdos.
Lunch? But not a date. Who brings their sister to ask someone out?
So: ulterior motive lunch. But why? Nothing to do with Lila’s personality, which sparkled like flat, warm Coke. Or Lila’s own smashing good looks (she knew she looked like a vaguely dangerous Orphan Annie). Or her riches (after the move, she had $496 in checking and $2,623 in savings). So…
