I sighed heavily, rolling my eyes behind closed lids.
'I'm sorry, Ms Winthrop. He seemed kind of sweet on you and I know it's none of my business but I got the impression that you and Mr Halloran aren't, like, joined at the hip. Mr Capriccio was just so nice and he smelled so good, the words popped out of my mouth.'
She looked so miserable, I gave in to impulse and tweaked the tip of her nose. 'It's okay. You didn't know.'
'He left you a present,’ she offered in a forlorn voice. 'I carried it up to your desk.'
"Thank you,’ I said, and waited until she met my eye. 'Don't worry, sweetie. I'm not mad at you. This is something I have to handle myself.'
I refused to open the big, bowed box until everyone had left for the night. My office, like Sean's beside it, had no front wall. We planned to buy some Japanese screens to preserve our privacy without blocking the great light but, until we did, our every move was gossip fodder.
I was glad I waited. The box contained a long sequined evening gown in cobalt blue. Heavy as hell, its back swooped so low I suspected it would flirt with more than one sort of cleavage. Beneath the dress lay a neatly folded pile of accessories. One by one, I discovered white evening gloves, creamy suede Ferragamo shoes, silk stockings, a lacy suspender belt, a minuscule G-string -and no bra.
Under the pile of goodies lay a second message. The fact that Joe knew I'd dig far enough to find it infuriated me. Six months without him had not dimmed my passion for provocative lingerie.
'Eight o'clock. Tonight. Halloran's,’ said this equally curt note. 'Wear the dress.'
Halloran's. I fanned the envelope against my chin. That was Sean's cousin's place across the river, which meant Sean was an accessory to whatever scheme Joe was cooking up.
Great, I thought. They join forces and I lose the one person I could complain to - or ask for advice.
Was avoiding Joe childish? Would I kick myself later if I didn't at least hear what he had to say? I had to admit I was curious, even if his invitation did put my back up.
I stroked the sleek, fish-scale surface of the dress. The blue sequins winked at me and threw sparkles off the rough brick wall behind my desk.
Heat curled through my centre as I pictured myself pulling on the long white gloves and the panties and the stockings. I could almost feel the heavy gown draping my breasts and buttocks, the mermaid cling at waist and ankle, the cool expanse of skin along my back. I knew I'd look like sex on the half-shell in that dress.
I also knew I'd look a fool if I traipsed into a steak joint like Halloran's wearing it. Joe was playing games with me. I wasn't sure why, but I damn well didn't have to play along.
To hell with dressing up, I decided. Mr Big could take me as I was or not at all.
When the cab dropped me off beneath Halloran's green awning on the dot of eight, I found a closed for private party sign on the door.
The music and laughter drifting out the windows told me I wasn't the only guest.
What now? I thought. I swung my linen jacket over my shoulder. The evening smouldered, though the sun was just a sliver of mango and lime on the horizon. My bra showed through the light crocheted top I wore, but it was a nice bra, so who cared?
Throwing caution to the winds, I yanked open the unattended door and headed up Halloran's stairs, loud jazz music buffeting me all the way.
As soon as I reached the dining room I saw that I was, in fact, severely underdressed. Men in dinner jackets sat at every table, accompanied by women who were poured into gowns much more elaborate than the one I'd refused to wear.
I looked down in dismay. I wasn't even wearing a skirt. Hell, I had my trainers on. Heads turned towards me from the nearest tables. My face heated.
'May I help you?' asked a man in a slightly worn dinner jacket - presumably a waiter.
'Yes.' I strove not to act like a gatecrasher. 'Joe Capriccio asked me to meet him here.'
The waiter stared at me. Did he think I was lying? I lifted my chin and stared straight back, determined to brazen this out. The waiter's expression cleared. 'Ah, yes, Ms Winthrop. Follow me, please.'
He led me to a table in the very centre of the room. It held two place settings. More heads turned as I sat in the chair the waiter held for me.
'Where's Joe?' I asked, before he could slip away.
The waiter tucked his hands together like a Chinese Mandarin. 'Regrettably, Mr Capriccio has been detained. We expect him shortly.'
Somehow that did not surprise me. 'What about Sean Halloran? Is he around?'
The waiter cocked his head. 'We're not expecting young Mr Halloran this evening.'
'Fine,' I said, close to grinding my teeth. 'Would you mind bringing me a drink while I wait then?'