He lifted his head, gave me an uncertain and cautious look. He looked tired and had a faint dusting of stubble on his chin. “Er, hi, Kara.”
“I’m sorry,” I said in a rush. “I don’t know why the hell I did that to you yesterday.”
Giving a self-conscious laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe because I deserved it?” He gestured toward the seat opposite him. I slid onto it, relieved, then shifted as a wayward crack of vinyl poked my backside.
“No, you really didn’t,” I said as I found a more comfortable spot. “People ask for that sort of thing all the time. And, to be honest, we do it all the time. Not fixing it, but it’s not that tough to get tickets reduced, depending on your driving record. That sort of thing.”
“It’s all right,” he said, meeting my eyes. Some of the fatigue seemed to have cleared from his expression. “I can afford it, and I was speeding.”
“Okay, but still,” I said, “last time I checked, the standard punishment for speeding didn’t include getting scalded with hot coffee.”
He cast his eyes upward, and pretended to consider. “Well, maybe when you factor in court costs…?.” He chuckled and dropped his eyes back to me. “Seriously, though, apology accepted.”
“Thanks.” I skimmed my eyes over the papers in front of him without being too obviously intrusive. There was a stack of what looked like account statements, and some letters that looked like they were from law firms. “What’s all this? One of your investments?”
“Something like that,” he replied. “I’m part owner of an industrial park on the northeast side of town, and I’m trying to see if anything can be done with it that’ll allow us to turn a profit.” His eyes shadowed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m not with ESPN anymore.”
I winced. “No, I hadn’t heard. Um, was this your decision?”
His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I was asked to ‘voluntarily’ resign earlier this spring. Personality conflicts.” A scowl briefly crossed his face before being wiped away by a sardonic smile. “So now I’m looking for other opportunities for a beat-up ex-football player.”
“You’ll land on your feet,” I assured him.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said, smile turning warm. “But yeah, I’ll be all right. I have money put away, and I’ve made some good investments that will keep me comfortable for a long time.”
“Sounds like something I need to start doing,” I said with a grin. “I need me some lifetime security.”
He chuckled. “I’d be more than happy to set you up with my financial advisor.”
Snorting, I shook my head. “Dude, I appreciate the thought, but right now I think I have an extra seventy-three dollars in my checking account that I could spare.”
“All the more reason to talk to a professional,” he said with a knowing tilt of his head.
“You have a point,” I conceded. “Are you still leaving town tomorrow?”
He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. “One of the shareholders is dragging his feet on signing some paperwork. I’ll probably be here another week.” He glanced at his watch and winced. “Speaking of, I’m about to be late for a meeting about that project.” He began gathering his papers up, but paused to give me another smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, Kara.”
“You too, Roman,” I replied.
He slid his papers into a briefcase and stood, then leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek before turning and walking on out. Mouth pursed in thought, I watched him go. He’d changed a lot in the years since we’d briefly dated. Silly of me to expect him to be the same person. I sure as hell wasn’t.
I stood, made my way over to the table that Eilahn had staked out, dropped into a seat.
“All is well with your former paramour?” she asked.
I picked up the menu. “Seems to be.” The waitress came over to fill my coffee cup. I gave her a grateful smile, then proceeded to add sugar and creamer. I waited until the waitress walked off, then looked back up at the demon.
She opened her mouth to speak, then paused and turned to look at the door. I followed her gaze to see Zack and Jill enter the restaurant. Zack hadn’t changed in the weeks since I’d seen him. A bit less tan perhaps, but his hair was still as pale-blond as if he spent every day on a surfboard. Which, supposedly, he did during the warmer months, though now that I knew that he was a demon I had to wonder how much of that was true and how much was simply cover story.
The pair headed straight for our table without a second’s hesitation, and I gave Eilahn a narrow-eyed glare. “You called the others?”