Page 3 of No Time Off

Dreading, but almost certain what he’d find, Mick ran outside to the valet parking area. The car he’d so carefully followed was nowhere to be seen.

He’d been hoodwinked.

THREE

Slash

“You know, we didn’t have to go to all that effort to lose the last of our tails,” Lexi told me as we made the trip down the road to the Lapin Sauvage restaurant. It was one of my favorite haunts, although we hadn’t dined there since long before the wedding. “Miguel could have provided us with a completely private table.”

“I know,” I agreed. “But the paparazzi have been making our life difficult, and I thought it was time to turn the tables for a change. Word will get out we were meeting someone important, and that will make them even more furious at having lost track of us.”

“It did feel good,” she said. “Maybe they’ll get bored with us.”

“If only. But, yes, it felt good to elude them. Really good.”

“Regardless, I suspect there’s another motive behind tonight’s flashy escape. Am I right?”

I dipped my head at her. “Ah,cara, I can’t ever get anything by you. It was practice, so to say. I’ve already begun planning for our honeymoon departure, and I want them to be jumpy and suspicious about being deceived. It will make them easier to fool when the time comes.”

“I’m fine with that,” she said. “The fooling them part. And speaking of our honeymoon, I’m really looking forward to getting away from this insane craziness and having a couple of quiet and uneventful weeks just to ourselves.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said emphatically.

I pulled up to the street-side valet parking, tossed the attendant the keys, and helped Lexi out of the car. Her smile assured me she appreciated the effort to make tonight just our evening.

The woman at the door checked our reservation and gestured, “This way, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson.”

Lexi glanced sideways at me with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “Williamson?” she mouthed.

I shrugged. “Can’t take any chances.”

We settled in at a secluded table in the back of the restaurant and ordered wine. We chatted about inconsequential matters, greatly enjoying our privacy until the waiter returned with our wine and a basket of warm rolls to take our order. I opted for the rack of lamb and Lexi, somewhat predictably, chose thefilet de bœuf avec sauce au poivre. Once she found something she liked,reallyliked, it was hard to get her to try anything else.

“Seriously, these rolls are to die for,” Lexi said as she bit into one and closed her eyes. “What do the French put in their bread?”

“I presume that’s a rhetorical question,” I said, amused.

“Unless you happen to know,” she said, opening one eye hopefully.

I smiled. “I’m partial to Italian bread, but you already know that.”

“Oh, trust me, she said, sighing happily. “Italian bread has its own virtues. Either way, I could die happy.”

I winced even though I tried not to. “Let’s not talk about dying, okay?”

She put the bread down and brushed off her hands on the napkin. “Fair point. I supposed it’s time to get to the business of the evening anyway. Have you finished your research on the perfect honeymoon destination?”

“I have, and presume you have, too. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

“It is. I hope you like my honeymoon plan, Slash. It has spectacular scenery, romantic venues, and is very private.”

“I greatly anticipate hearing the details,cara.”

“And I can’t wait to hear what you have in mind,” she said. “By the way, did you factor in the possibility of an uninvited guest tagging along?”

I narrowed my eyes. “The paparazzi?”

“No. Whatelsealways follows us around?”

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