Chapter 8

I was already seated when the hostess brought Phillip to the table. I stood to shake hands with him and invited him to take a seat. He was tall, at least my height, slim, patrician, old school money, handsome. Laura hadn't been lying about that. Perhaps just below movie star/model handsome, assured in probably all ways, except possibly sexually, given what I knew.

"I expected you'd be wearing something different," he said, sitting across the table from me.

"It was my belief you might underestimate me given how we made our acquaintance. I don't want you to do that."

Phillip ordered a single malt scotch, then perused the menu.

"Do you have any recommendations?" he asked.

"I haven't had a bad meal yet," I replied. "You'll probably be satisfied with whatever you order."

"How long have you been staying here?"

"A little over three weeks."

"That can't be cheap."

"It's not."

"Inherited?"

"Self made. I created and sold