“Should have left the Rolex at home, huh?”
“I’m just saying that I can see how people thought I was sneaking around.”
“You were sneaking around,” Loretta said.
“If I’d been sneaking around, no one would have ever known.” His dark eyes narrowed on her. No smile or hint of humor now. “Trust me on that, Loretta.”
“Am I supposed to be intimidated?”
He surprised her by laughing. “Damn, you’re a pain in the ass. I wanted to know what was going on with your two pals and this Sleepy Hollow little town in Massachusetts. That’s all.”
“That’s not all, and Dylan and Noah can take care of themselves.” Loretta squinted out at the ocean, added without looking at him, “Are you providing intel to NAK corporate enemies?”
“Let’s not play twenty questions, Loretta.”
She ignored him. “The NAK board? Do Noah and Dylan have personal enemies I don’t know about?”
A breeze off the water lifted the ends of Hartley’s gray-streaked dark hair but he didn’t seem to notice. “Noah needs to decide what’s next for him. It’s driving the NAK board crazy not to know if he’s going to try to run things there or open a fencing studio. But he knows that. You know that.”
Loretta tightened her hands into fists at her sides. “You spied on my friends and you used me to do it.”
“No one uses you, Loretta. I outwitted you. There’s a difference.”
She raised her chin at him. Not all men were taller than she was. “I’m going to find out what you’re really up to.”
He didn’t seem that threatened. “You understand I have to respect attorney-client privilege.”
“You’re not an attorney. You’re a sleazy private investigator.”
“Part right. I’m a private investigator. I’m not sleazy. Which you know. You’re just irritated because you’re not in control of what’s going on. You haven’t been since Duncan McCaffrey left Dylan that house in Knights Bridge and you didn’t know the whole story.” Hartley had some sympathy in his expression now. “You didn’t know Dylan would go out there and fall for Olivia Frost.”
“I’m glad he did,” Loretta said stubbornly.
“You’re glad he has someone in his life. You wish it was a woman from La Jolla instead of an out-of-the-way little town on the other side of the country. Now Noah’s falling for this redheaded librarian.” Hartley’s sympathy turned to a knowing grin. “I can just see you at the Knights Bridge Free Public Library. It’s haunted, you know.”
Of course it was haunted. Loretta forced her palms open, tried to release some of her pent-up tension as Hartley pivoted and walked back down the steps without another word.
She inhaled deeply. She’d never been good with men.
She called to him. “Do you like Mexican food?”
He glanced up at her. “I hate it.”
“I love it.” She followed him down to the sidewalk. “There’s a great place down the street. You can have a salad. Let’s go. We can walk.”
“You’re the most difficult woman I’ve ever met. I think that’s why I like you.” He angled her a knowing look. “Is Kendrick meeting us at this restaurant?”
Loretta didn’t bother hiding her surprise.
“This one wasn’t even hard to figure out,” Hartley said with a bark of a laugh. “You’d have had me meet you in La Jolla at your office if you weren’t involving Dylan and Noah.”
“Mr. McCaffrey and Mr. Kendrick to you,” she said, sounding petty even to herself.
“Sure thing, Loretta. I have a son their age. He probably wants me to call him Mister, too.”
“A son?”
He grinned at her. “Relax. I’m divorced.”
She didn’t relax but she didn’t want to kill him as much as she had twenty minutes ago. They walked to a cluster of shops and restaurants, and for seconds—or maybe only one second—she pictured them as one of the honeymooning couples at the Hotel del Coronado. She’d never been married. Never had kids. Dylan’s engagement had her thinking about what might have been, even if she had a good life, even if she had no regrets.
No serious regrets, anyway.
They got a table in the courtyard of the bustling restaurant. Loretta ordered a margarita and guacamole made fresh at the table. Hartley ordered a beer.
She dipped a warm tortilla chip into chunky, spicy salsa. “You’re going to tell Noah and me everything.”
“No, I’m not. You know better than to ask.”
“Then you are working for an attorney.”
“I’m not saying.”
“Why did you come if you’re going to stonewall?”
His beer arrived. “Because you asked nicely.”
She hadn’t, but whatever. “What did you think of Knights Bridge?”
“I suffered. Goats, Loretta.” He drank some of his beer, helped himself to a chip and salsa. “Olivia Frost and the O’Dunn sisters are making soap out of the goat’s milk.”
“Goat’s milk soap is nice.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Hartley…”
“Julius, okay?”