Page 32 of Dancing in the Rain

“Well.” She eyed him. “It does take two to make a relationship work. It doesn’t sound like she was trying very hard, either.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Thanks for that.”

“Well, she cheated on you, right? That’s not exactly trying to make a relationship work.”

“You’re right.”

“Did you cheat on her?”

His jaw loosened. “Jesus. You don’t pull any punches, do you? First you ask me if I’m an alcoholic, now am I a cheater.”

She bit her lip. “Ihavebeen told I’m blunt. It just saves time, rather than beating around the bush.”

“Right to the point,” he murmured. “At least people know where they stand with you.”

“There is that,” she admitted. “I’m not one to be passive-aggressive.”

“I’ll consider that a positive.”

She smiled across the table at him as the waitress reappeared with a bright-colored pottery bowl full of olives and a plate of bread. She set down a small bowl of golden olive oil, dark balsamic vinegar swirled into it.

“Do you like olives?” Drew asked, picking up his napkin.

“I love olives.”

“Excellent. Help yourself. I got them to share. The bread, too.”

She picked up an olive and popped it in her mouth, enjoying the salty tang with a little heat. “Yum. These are good.” She paused. “They’d be really good with a nice glass of Sangiovese.”

“Hey, I offered to spring for a glass of wine.”

“You don’t have to pay for dinner.”

“Of course I’m paying for dinner. I invited you.”

She wanted to argue, but bit her tongue. No sense making it into a bigger deal than it was. “Okay, so should I ask about your finances?”

He laughed, and his face was transformed from that dark and brooding look into sexy charm. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you did. Oh wait, wasn’t that part of the credit check?”

“We don’t actually know what’s in your bank accounts,” she said wryly, reaching for another olive. “But that doesn’t really matter. Your character is more important than how much money you have.”

He narrowed his eyes a little at her. “You sure about that?”

“Sara’s already told you she doesn’t want anything from you. The only reason she found you is because you’re a little famous or something. If you’d been Drew Sellers, refuse collector, she might not have stumbled across you. But if she had, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Forgive me if I’m just a little skeptical of that. Remember, I know your background, too. You and Sara grew up in a pretty privileged environment.”

She let his words sink in. “Well. That’s true. But we’re not snobs.”

He lifted his chin and nodded. “Okay. Also…I’m not a little famous. I’m alotfamous.”

She smirked at him. “I’d never heard of you. You can’t be that famous.”

“Not a hockey fan, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sad.”

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