Page 98 of Obsession

“Maybe we can come back one evening when it’s not business related.”

Smile. Emma didn’t want to get the evening off to a wrong start, and she forced her lips upward in what she hoped didn’t look like a grimace. Sam was right about Corey being interested in her.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked as their waitress approached.

Emma looked up. Amy was stitched over her pocket. “Is the coffee good here, Amy?”

“It’s very good—the best in town, if you ask me,” she said with a smile.

That’s what everyone said. “I’ll try it and let you know.”

“And I’ll have iced tea,” Corey said. After Amy brought their drink orders and Emma had sipped her coffee, he asked, “How is it?”

“It’s good—strong without being bitter.”

“I’ll remember that.” He opened his menu and then peered at her over the top. “Do you see anything special you’d like to order?”

She hadn’t even looked at her menu and picked it up, perusing it. She’d heard the Mediterranean food was fabulous here. “The chicken kebob looks good,” she said.

“Do you like salmon?”

While the prices were moderate, the salmon was the costliest item on the menu, and she never ordered expensive food. “I think I’ll go with the chicken.”

“But do you like salmon?”

“Well, sure, but—”

“Then salmon it will be. Now for your sides?”

“No. I’m not in the mood for salmon.” She was tired of men telling her what to do.

“But it’s so good for you,” he said. “And a green salad with feta and the vegetables would go well with it.”

“I eat healthy every day of my life. Tonight, I want to splurge.” She glanced at the menu once more. Was he insisting because the salmon was costlier? Was he trying to impress her? If so, she could fix that.

“How about I order the steak and the sides you chose, except leave off the feta,” Emma said, closing her menu. She glanced up to find him studying her, like he’d never really seen her before. “What are you having?”

“I think I’ll splurge with you,” he said with a smile. Corey motioned for the waitress, and she hurried over. When he finished ordering for them both, she said, “I’ll be right back with your salads.”

“You surprised me a little,” he said as soft music played in the background. “I don’t often see that side of you.”

She almost said “get used to it,” but instead she allowed a tiny smile to surface. “I just hated to see you waste your money.”

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Corey said.

His words were warm, but the slight twitch of his right eye as he unwrapped the napkin around his knife and fork told a different story. Mr. Corey Chandler wasn’t accustomed to women not falling right in line with what he wanted.

“Do we want to get business out of the way while we wait for our food?”

“Sure. Maybe we can start with why your client doesn’t want the project to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you want to do it? I understand from your supervisor the project is your idea.”

Corey had been asking around about her. “My reasons are twofold. I want to document the lives of the people who lived in the cabins. And as for the slave cemetery, I think it’s important to give dignity to those buried there. They didn’t have it when they were alive, but if there’s any way possible, they’ll have it now.” Emma sat back in the chair, warming under his intense scrutiny. “And now I’ll get off my soapbox.”

“I will give you this—you’re very passionate about the project.”

“Oh yes.”

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