The One Who Got Away. Jo Leigh

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      “I love that city. Where?”

      “What used to be called Hell’s Kitchen. Now it’s almost as trendy as Tribeca.”

      “You must hate that.”

      “I do. But there’s nothing to be done. I’ve got my office in the same building, two stories down. I don’t want to move.”

      “What’s it like being a private eye?”

      “It’s just like in the movies. Smoky bars, jazz playing in the background, fallen women, men with dark pasts and unregistered guns.”

      “Cute,” she said, as they got outside.

      The heat shocked him again, like when he’d come from the airport. Not that it wasn’t hot in Manhattan, but here it didn’t stick to your skin like wet towels.

      Taylor must have noticed his reaction. “It was in the low seventies when I left this morning,” she said. “Oh, there they are.”

      Steve was standing beside a Yellow Cab. “You’re in San Francisco, right?”

      She nodded. “Right near Lombardi. The apartment is too expensive, but I love riding my bike there.”

      “Ten speed?”

      “Honda Shadow.”

      He stopped short. A motorcycle? Interesting. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

      Before she slid into the cab, she smiled at him. “Oh, I plan to.”

      He watched her maneuver onto the back seat, which was quite a feat considering the tightness of her dress. She did well, very much the lady. But he had a feeling that was only for show. At least he hoped so.

      Steve got in beside her, and Ben got in front. The ride to the Venetian wasn’t long. It would have been shorter, but for the masses of tourists. Still, it was better than trying to get through Manhattan on a busy evening.

      He’d never been to the Venetian, and was impressed with the high arched ceilings and the frescos on the walls. Even the floor tiles were European and stately, somehow managing to appear subdued and classy. After a long walk past a lot of high-end shops, through the casino, they arrived at the café.

      Steve ushered them inside, past a considerable line, into the large, beautifully decorated restaurant. It also had decked-out ceilings, fancy floors and great leather booths. The bar looked as if it served expensive martinis, but the crowd seemed happy and from what he could see on the plates held aloft by the waitstaff, no one would leave hungry.

      A waitress showed them to their booth, and he slid in next to Taylor. It was roomy, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing when one was sitting beside a woman in a tiny dress. But he wasn’t going to go there. Not yet, at least. Tonight was for Steve.

      The happy couple kissed after they got their menus. Steve smiled broadly, Lisa more conservatively, but that didn’t mean anything. She opened her menu and studied it carefully, her brows furrowing slightly as if the choice was crucial.

      Ben glanced down, only it would take more than a glance to get through the choices in the book they called a menu. He decided on something he could always trust, a New York Sirloin steak and baked potato.

      Their waitress took their drink orders, and then it was just the four of them.

      “All right,” Taylor said, putting her menu aside. “I want to hear it all. Omit nothing. How you met, when you fell in love, why you decided to get married in Vegas, the whole nine yards.”

      Steve laughed and Lisa gave a tentative grin. But then Lisa was the stranger amongst them, and that had to be hard.

      Ben liked Taylor’s style. Come right out with it. No beating around the bush. She’d always been like that, since the time she was a little kid, demanding to play touch football when she could hardly hold the ball. The only time she’d been reticent had been that last weekend, but he figured it was the newness of the situation. He imagined that had changed.

      “We met on the Turquoise Mermaid,” Steve said. “Her dad was fishing and Lisa decided to join him and his buddies for the day. She didn’t fish, which turned out to be a good thing because we started talking and just kept right on going.”

      “I hadn’t even wanted to go,” Lisa said, leaning in to the table, her eyes brighter now that they were on a subject she could dive into. “But my father insisted, although he was with Trent Foster and Cal Peterson. Cal brought his wife, Annie, who is closer to my age than his, so Daddy dragged me along. But Annie got horribly seasick, and she didn’t want to talk to anyone, which left me free to concentrate on the wildly handsome skipper.”

      Steve’s grin widened. “I got so involved with Lisa it almost cost her father a swordfish. But we nailed him.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Didn’t we?”

      “We? I got as far away as I could. I had no idea swordfish were so big and so dangerous.” She settled back in the booth. “At least we won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

      Taylor didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

      “She means I’m letting Larry take over the management of the fleet,” Steve said. “Once we’re married, I’m moving to Kansas. Her dad’s offered me a hell of a good job in sales and marketing. I don’t know much about the aerospace industry yet, but I’m learning. They make seals, connectors, gaskets, that kind of thing. Real high-end stuff, the highest temperature seals in the industry. I’ll be traveling a lot. Except for missing Lisa, I think it’ll be great. I mean, they have this major air show in France every year. Of course, she’ll come with me.”

      Taylor was grateful the waitress arrived with their drinks so she had a moment to absorb what she’d just heard. Her brother hated working in an office. He’d built his life around the freedom of the sea. This was a complete one-eighty, and it made her nervous as hell. She sipped her Cosmopolitan, glanced at Ben, whose expression mirrored her own concern. “So Larry’s going to run the fleet, huh? You’re okay with that?”

      Steve’s grin faltered. “Yeah, sure. He’ll do a great job. He’s been with me for six years now, and he knows everything about the job.”

      “But Kansas?” Taylor leaned in, trying like hell to make Steve look her in the eyes. “No sailing? No fishing? It’s what you love best in all the world.”

      “He won’t miss it,” Lisa said. “And we’ll visit San Diego often enough for him to keep his sea legs. You know how bright he is, though, and it’s a shame to waste that on fishing. He has a brilliant career in front of him. I’m sure one day he’ll take over the company. My father always wanted a son, and now he’ll have one.”

      “You had no interest in the business?” Ben asked.

      Lisa laughed. “God, no. I have my own interior design firm. I’ve done some of the largest homes in Wichita.”

      “Really?” Taylor said, her concern deepening by the second.

      “Oh, yes. I absolutely love it. My mother works with me, and we have a wonderful assistant, Renee. СКАЧАТЬ