“Of course. My sister’s a writer, so her schedule is very flexible.”
“My brother is a writer too.”
I thought back to the good-looking guy I’d seen him with a few days earlier. “He’s the guy you were talking to in the bookstore?”
Paul nodded. “Shall we say, seven o’clock this evening?”
“Perfect. Thank you. I really appreciate this, Mr. Cerasino.”
“Paul. And you’re very welcome. See you then.”
I walked out of his office and immediately called Miriam to tell her the good news. Not many lawyers were willing to go out of their way to help someone like that, especially when they knew that nothing might come of it.
I took satisfaction in having been right about Paul Cerasino. Hewasas attractive on the inside as he was on the outside. He actually cared about people, and I was looking forward to seeing him again.
Until then, I had nothing to do and nowhere to be. I walked to the community park located in the center of town. Moms and dads watched over little ones playing on the brightly colored equipment. Joggers and dog walkers made their way along the paved trails that wound through the grounds. Locals, including a fair number of businesspeople, ate their lunches on strategically placed benches.
Delicious smells filled my nostrils from the food trucks that had set up there, offering an eclectic variety, and I decided to sample some of the fare. As I ate one of the best hot dogs I’d ever had, I couldn’t help but think about Paul, swamped at the office. Something told me he wouldn’t take time out to get lunch for himself.
I had no idea what he liked, but I went back to the hot-dog truck and placed another order. Then, I returned to the Wilkins building. My plan was to leave the food at the reception desk and call out to let him know it was there, but it didn’t quite happen that way.
Chapter Eight: Paulie
Irifled through thestacks and piles of papers strewn haphazardly across nearly every available surface, searching for the Di Miglio file. I had a call scheduled with the opposing counsel in less than an hour and needed the investigative notes I’d asked Stella to transcribe and summarize. If I were smart, I would have asked her for thembeforeI’d told her to pack up her things and leave.
I heard the soft chime that signaled someone had entered the office and cursed. I didn’t have time to deal with another walk-in.
Reluctantly, I abandoned my search and made my way out to the reception area. Right before I got there, I felt it—that tingling of awareness I only seemed to feel around Allison Kearney—and quickened my steps.
My instincts hadn’t failed me. She was standing in front of Irene’s desk with a bag of what smelled like food from one of my favorite vendors in her hand.
I’d mentioned, she was a beautiful woman, right? At that moment, she looked like a bona fideangel. Thankfully, I managed to keep my enthusiasm at an acceptable, professional level.
“Ms. Kearney, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”
She offered a tentative smile. “I brought you some lunch.”