Page 92 of What About Love

“Wonderful. Me, too,” she said with a big smile and a wave.“Ciao, bella.”

As she walked back to her office, she repeated Sophia’s hope-filled words. “Yes, very promising indeed.”

***

HER DOORBELL RANG PROMPTLYat six. As soon as she opened the screen, T stepped inside, bringing with him a glorious aroma. Loaded down with several carry-out containers, with a bottle of wine tucked under his arm, he bent and planted a brief open-mouthed kiss on her lips before heading down the hall to her kitchen.

“Iron Cactus,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned the corner. A second later, he peeked back around and declared with the emotion of a man that enjoyed his Mexican food, “Tournedos de Tejas, baby. Gotta eat ’em while they’re hot.”

Closing and locking the door, she followed the mouthwatering man with the mouthwatering food from the best Mexican restaurant in town. Her stomach growled as she walked up to her small dining table, the grilled steak aroma much more distinct as T opened the containers.

“Get glasses for the wine. I think they have everything else covered.”

She crossed to her lighted glass hutch and retrieved two wineglasses, which she rarely used. When she came back, he was making himself right at home in her kitchen, opening and closing drawers until he found the corkscrew.

She didn’t care, ogling the grilled steak medallions in a sweet chipotle glaze that was one of the restaurant’s signature dishes, and her favorite. She also approved of the green chili mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus, the two sides the same that she usually ordered whenever she dined in about once a month.

While he uncorked the wine, she took it all in, wondering how he knew.

“Did you run into Megan today?”

He took a glass from her hand and poured. “No. Why?”

“You got all of my favorites.” She said this as she relinquished the other wineglass to him and took a seat.

As he poured himself a full glass, he grinned. “Mine, too. Good to know you have excellent taste.”

Having avoided the question, he passed her a set of plastic-wrapped utensils and a napkin, then sat, not waiting another minute to dig in.

“Mm,” he moaned, closing his eyes at the first taste. “I’ve been away too long. I haven’t had my Iron Cactus fix in months.”

With only a pack of crackers from the downstairs vending machine as a late lunch, Angie’s stomach was gnawing at her backbone. She forked up a spicy bite, her groan replicating T’s.

“Try the wine,” he urged. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I picked a Shiraz, one of my favorites.”

Not knowing a Shiraz from a Chablis, Angie took a sip. As the chilled wine hit her tongue, she was thankful it was sweet and red, which was all her unsophisticated palate could handle.

She eyed him speculatively. “Have you had Jack running surveillance on me on the sly?”

He grinned. “Confession time. Regan was in the office this afternoon and I pumped her for information.”

She laughed. “I’m actually relieved. For a moment there, I thought you were a mind reader, or worse, a stalker. I suppose I should fess up as well.”

“To what?”

“Frozen margaritas I know, and I’m a pro at shooting tequila, but when it comes to wine, I don’t have a clue. Once, I brought boxed wine to a party and was almost tossed to the curb. I’ve asked for ice when it’s supposed to be room temperature and have watered a few potted plants with it at parties in the past. If it isn’t sweet and red, I usually skip it. So again”—she raised her glass and took another sip—“it’s perfect.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her take a bite of the tender steak.

“You can have a few of my case files if this is the result of your in-depth investigative skills.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “If you’ll work them with me, count me in.”

Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, she frowned suddenly and put down her fork. “Okay, what gives? Who are you, and what have you done with Antonio Minelli?”

He also put down his fork and reached for her hand. “I apologized for that this morning and I meant it. I wasn’t intentionally playing you, but you’ve got me so mad for you, I’m having a hard time figuring which way is up.”

“What exactly are you saying, T? Just cut to the chase.”

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