Page 30 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“But still.” He was leaning forward now. He’d ditched theMatrixcoat and was in a crisp white shirt that she just bet was tailor-made. There was a haberdashery in this very building. Lila hadn’t known those places still existed. Didn’t everyone do everything online?
No tie. Shirt open at the throat, exposing a tanned neck. Black trousers probably tailor-made, too. Pricey-looking loafers. No socks. Even his ankles were tan. Who had a natural tan this time of year?Gawd, those vivid green eyes are annoying. Oh, shit, he’s still talking.
“…after all, you helped her.”
“Yeah, she was a hurt kid in the middle of nowhere. Helping her doesn’t mean I get along with all children, it just means I’m not a drooling sociopath. And don’t misinterpret this as concern, but how’s she doing?”
Ox leaned back and let out a sigh. “She’s having some trouble adjusting to her reality.”
“Understandable.”
“I, uh, can’t really get into it.”
“You brought her up.”
He drummed his fingers on the table and just looked at her. “Mmmm. So why Lilydale?”
“WhynotLilydale? Looked like a nice place, rent was decent, office space was decent, reasonably safe from zombie plagues and/or Armageddon.”
“What?”
“In the movies, it’s always places like New York or D.C. that get destroyed. Aliens don’t care about Lilydale. Plus I like seasons. I hear Minnesota has at least two.”
He laughed. “I get it. I was in Florida for a few months. A sweaty Santa in shorts and surrounded by palm trees was a real mind-fuck.”
Their waitress chose that moment to deposit their orders, then darted off.
Lila took a nibble of duck. It promptly melted in her mouth. “Your sister wasn’t kidding. This is pretty sublime. Food this good? Is why I could never be a vegetarian.”
Ox shuddered. “Me neither. Listen, thanks for coming out with me.”
“Hey, free duck. Who’s gonna turn that down?”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Lila put down her fork. “That’s an odd question to ask during a lunch that isn’t a date because it’s strictly business.”
“I’m just trying to get to know you.”
“Why?”
“Well, we’re neighbors.”
“No, we aren’t. You’ve had your own place for years. Don’t look surprised. Mama Macropi likes to talk about you. A lot.”
His face lit up. “You asked her about me?”
Shit.“No. Like I said. She talks about you.”
“Oh. So are you? Seeing anyone?”
“Yes. I’ve been happily married for some time. Next month is our third anniversary. As the traditional gift is leather, it should be an interesting evening.”
“No,” he said with aggravating confidence. “You’re not married.”
“Then why did you ask if I’m seeing anyone? And then lie aboutwhyyou asked?”
Her rising irritation fell apart when she saw his expression: interest, confusion, and a little…fear? “I don’t know.”
