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She pointed at the bag. “What did you bring me?”
He turned it so she could see the Seastar logo, then pulled a receipt out of his long-sleeved shirt pocket.
“An assortment of sashimi and sushi, two orders of deviled eggs. Crab bisque, Thai chicken, black truffle mac and cheese, grilled asparagus and their bread service.”
Her stomach growled. “All my favorites.”
“Mine, too.”
They unloaded the picnic tote. Killion, Erica had learned early, liked nice things and had the ability to always have them around him. The tote contained china plates, bowls and flatware. There were elegant wineglasses, cloth napkins and a stone chiller to keep the chardonnay at the perfect temperature.
Once their places were set, they put out the food, then sat down to eat.
“Who pulls all this together for you?” she asked. “Your assistant?”
“My personal assistant, who is someone different than my work assistant.”
“Napoleon? I thought he just managed where you live.”
“He handles all the details of my personal life. He arranges for the housekeeping service and tells the gardeners when it’s time to prune the trees. He coordinates my travel, stocks my refrigerator and yes, keeps tracks of your favorite restaurants and what you like to order.”
She smiled. “Basically, he’s your wife.”
Killion laughed. “He’s better than a wife. In my relationship with Napoleon, I’m always right.”
“Spoken like a man.”
“You also like being right.”
“I do,” she admitted, taking several pieces of sushi while he filled two bowls with bisque. “Thank you for dinner. And the company.”
“I enjoy being your distraction, but at some point you’ll have to go home.”
“I don’t know. I could get a lovely hotel room with a water view and live there for the next few months.”
“You’d miss Summer and your mom.”
True enough, but they could visit her and then she wouldn’t have to deal with Allison.
“It’s not that I don’t like her,” she said, picking up her spoon. “I don’t know her well enough to form an opinion. It’s just so damned awkward and weird.”
“That your ex-husband’s second wife is now living with you?”
“And her child, although Jackson is a sweetie.”
She paused to savor the bisque. The creamy texture was decadently rich, with bits of crab. She’d heard once that good bisque was in essence reduction and cream, which meant plenty of calories. Something she would worry about tomorrow.
“We’re so different,” she continued. “It’s hard to believe the same man married us.”
“Maybe the more interesting question is what you each saw in him.”
She looked at Killion. “There is that. We both fell in love with a man who turned out to be a criminal. That’s a little upsetting.”
“He wasn’t a criminal when you met him.”
“I hope not. I’ve always thought I was a good judge of character. Given how many people I employ, it would be depressing to find out I’m not.”
“Peter wasn’t a criminal when you met him,” Killion repeated. “You weren’t the trigger.”
