“It’s so nice to meet you,” Alice said sincerely, putting out her hand. Instead of shaking it, however, the woman grasped it warmly in both of her hands.
“Call me Mrs. Davenport. It may seem more formal, but it’s not. It’s what Dylan and Alan both called me. I’m surprised Dylan even knows my first name.” Alice grinned at Dylan’s forbearing expression. She noticed Mrs. Davenport searching her face and realized her blue eyes were shiny with tears.
“Is everything all right?” Alice asked quietly, concerned, especially because Mrs. Davenport seemed like such a formidable character, certainly not someone prone to public displays of emotion.
Mrs. Davenport nodded briskly. “It’s just that you remind me of him.”
“Of Alan?” Alice asked, touched. “Thanks. Most people seem to think I look like Lynn.”
Mrs. Davenport sniffed and started searching for something in her handbag. “You do. It’s not your looks that remind me of Alan,” she admitted thickly, pulling out a plastic bag of Kleenex.
“What, then?” Dylan asked, clearly curious.
“It’s your manner,” Mrs. Davenport said before she blew her nose. “Alan had the kindness of a saint and was a real gentleman, but he could be sharp as a knife to someone who was rude. That Danny Zarnoff from the Detroit News? He always did get Alan’s goat. Alan would have loved to see the way you put Zarnoff in his place out there.”
EPILOGUE
SIX WEEKS LATER
No, no! My treat,” Alice cried out excitedly when Dylan reached for the bill. “You’re always buying. My turn, now that I’ve started getting paychecks.”
The waiter looked at Dylan. Dylan nodded once, although he appeared a little exacerbated.
They were having lunch at a sleek new Chinese restaurant called the Great Wall. They made a point of having lunch together during their workday whenever they could. It was gratifying, to no longer have to hide their relationship. They didn’t flaunt it, by any means, but the days of sneaking around were officially over for Dylan and her.
With great excitement, she withdrew the credit card from her wallet. She held it up next to her cheek and struck a pose.
“My first credit card ever,” she said.
Dylan reached across the table and grabbed the card. He looked exceptionally handsome today, wearing the new bronze and black tie she’d bought him yesterday—also with her new card. She thought the colors made his eyes look especially lustrous and mesmerizing. He peered at the credit card, a grin softening his firm mouth. He handed it back to her.
“You got it with the new name,” he said as she tucked the card into the folder and held it up for the waiter.
“I did. What do you think?”
“You know I like it very much.” He reached across the table and she put her hand in his. “Are you sure you don’t want an expense account from the trust? It could be arranged in a matter of hours. I’m sure Dick has told you,” he said, referring to the new executor of her trust, a financial guru by the name of Dick Everhill. She and Dick, with Dylan’s helpful input from years of experience, had decided for the time being to not make any changes to the trust. Alan had supplied such worthy directives, and Dylan had done a brilliant job managing it. Alice couldn’t think of anything better for it than to keep it just as it was.
“He did tell me. But don’t ruin my fun. I’m happy being a working girl and earning a paycheck.”
“Heaven forbid I suggest anything that defeats your happiness. But I don’t want you going overboard, buying things for me,” he told her sternly, briefly touching his new tie.
“I like buying little bobbles for you,” she joked. She sighed when his dark look didn’t remit. “You spoil me constantly, Dylan. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to return the favor, in my little way.”
He stroked her thumb and palm, looking thoughtful. Prickles of pleasure danced across her nerves at his simple caress. She reached and ran her finger over his knuckles, admiring his masculine hand. When she encircled his forefinger and squeezed, he blinked and met her stare.