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The student had taken the initiative. Mitch hadn’t been the least bit arrogant, simply medal-awarded soldierly. He couldn’t help being film-star handsome either. The trait seemed to run in his family.
He pushed his cell phone into a pants pocket and smoothed the gripper flap closed. Those tanned fingers sweeping down her arm would feel… Heat streaked along her nerves like a runner heading for first base. Her insides turned to jelly.
No, no, no.
She swung her legs over the bench, walked around the table, and dragged her sandwich over. Mitch raised an eyebrow.
Do not explain. She settled on the opposite bench, adding another two feet of separation. “Sun was in my eyes.”
He glanced at the overcast sky and grinned at her, his brown eyes mocking. “Roger.”
The bouncy calliope music that always made her smile drifted upriver from the approaching stern-wheeler. Her job when she’d worked with VIP Tours had kept her in the office, but occasionally she got a chance to lead their river cruises. This would be one approaching now.
The swoosh of splashing water grew louder. Minutes later, the paddle wheeler pulled alongside the levee, and the crew lowered a gangway. The organ stopped. Tourists flooded to shore to walk along the levee. She almost looked away when a slender man appeared and leaned against the rail to chat with disembarking passengers.
What was he doing here? She nearly gagged but swallowed her last bite before a snake as big as Mitch’s tattoo came out of nowhere to wrap around her own neck.
Stop staring. Talk to Mitch. Quick. She rubbed her four-leaf clover and asked, “What did you find out about the restaurant where Sarah works?”
“You’re nosy.”
“You weren’t hiding the screen, Mitch. It was five inches away from me on the table. How am I not going to notice?”
“I checked what time the cocktail bar opens.”
She stuffed a loose fried shrimp under the French bread. “And…?”
“It’s open now.” Mitch straightened and looked toward the river. “Someone’s coming over here.”
Her stomach pitched, but she waved to her ex-boyfriend and climbed out from the table so he wouldn’t tower over her. Didn’t matter. He grasped her shoulders and bussed her cheek, having learned all his uncle’s bad habits. “I didn’t realize you still harbored some nostalgia for our tours.”
Because she ate lunch at the boat landing? “We were in the vicinity and needed a place to have our picnic.”
“Paul DiMartino.” Paul stuck out his hand to Mitch. “Please don’t get up.”
Mitch stood anyway—showing his so-called Southern gentleman creds—and she made the introductions. “Paul’s an old colleague.”
“Not so old, I hope.” Paul flicked a wave of dark hair off his face and his diamond-studded Rolex flashed in the light.
“Former colleague.” She wanted to remind him where she stood these days, but only in the nicest way. The tour operators in this city saw a lot of each other, and she couldn’t afford to offend any of them. “Does that sound better?”
Paul stared at her. “I can live with it.”
Not better then. She bit her lip.
“We worked together at VIP Tours,” she explained to Mitch, who doubtless didn’t care one way or the other what sort of relationship she’d had with Paul.
“I see you closed up shop.” A frown rumpled her ex-boyfriend’s forehead. “You angling to come back to work for us?”
More people than she’d realized cruised the web. She’d only updated her site from her phone last night, and Paul had already seen the news. “It’s only a temporary closure.” She mentally crossed her fingers.
“When are you going to reopen?”
“I’m not sure.” Depends on when I get my brother straightened out. And when the police arrest two masked men. She caught Mitch watching and turned her back. “I thought you weren’t conducting tours any longer.”
“You know everyone at VIP answers to my uncle. I’m just filling in for the day. I like to get out of the office the way you used to, and I won’t get many more chances.” He buttoned his leather jacket, a self-satisfied smirk twisting his mouth. “I’m getting a promotion.”
“Congratulations.” She pasted a fake smile on her face.
