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We crossed to the shady side of the street.
“Why’d you volunteer for this?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” was his curt answer.
I let go of his hand. “Oh.” Of course he didn’t want to do it, me being a Benson and him a Cartwright.
“I don’t get to pick my cases.”
We stopped at the next intersection.
The light turned green, and he urged me forward with a hand at the small of my back. “I would have if I could, though. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”
“You don’t need to patronize me.”
His expression stiffened. On the other side of the street, he pulled me to a stop. “That’s another thing you need to stop doing.”
“What?”
His eyes held mine. “A lady graciously accepts a compliment,” he said softly.
“And who says I’m a lady?” I shot back as soon as an elderly couple passed us by.
“And that too. You can stop putting yourself down. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”
No response to that came to mind.
“Shall we go?” he offered me his fake-boyfriend hand again, and I took it.
As we walked, the feeling of holding hands with him became progressively more tolerable. I caught the occasional glance in my direction, accompanied by a smile that didn’t look forced. The man was a natural-born actor.
A lady? That’ll be the day.
Chapter 7
Adam
I ledKelly down the steps from the sidewalk to the recessed entrance of the restaurant. The place was small, but the food was excellent.
The usual hostess was at the front.
“Adam—reservation for two, and the alcove, please.” I’d requested specific seating for tonight.
She nodded. “This way. I have your booth ready.”
I urged Kelly ahead of me.
She took one side of the booth, and I took the other.
Kelly waited until the hostess had left. “They know you here?”
“I’ve been here a few times.”
“This is cozy,” she remarked.
“I like this place for the food, and the privacy.”
She opened the menu. “What do you recommend?”
