With Private Eyes Part 13

"Oh..." She gave him a distracted smile. "It's spicy, but not mouth-burning. You'll like it." She knew one of the men with Drake. Will was the kind of attorney the jokes were made for-slick as slime and very expensive. The other man was a stranger.

Just then the man she didn't know looked right at her and said something. And the other two snickered.

Why, they were talking about her! And laughing. Claudia took a quick, involuntary step toward them, then stopped. What could she do? She didn't have a tub of ice cream handy.

She could hear s.n.a.t.c.hes of their conversation now.

"... bet she liked ... in charge in bed," the college buddy was saying. "Women like that..."

Drake didn't once look at her, but d.a.m.n him, he knew she was there. He spoke just loudly enough to be sure she would hear. "Well, she did like to be on top. Which is all right once in a while, but every time?"

More laughter.

"Excuse me a minute," Ethan said to her.

"Ethan? Wait, Ethan, what are you doing?" She grabbed at his arm, but somehow he was already out of reach, though he didn't seem to be moving fast. He sauntered up to the three men and tapped Drake on the shoulder.

Drake turned, making a show of surprise and smiling to show off his perfect teeth. "Yes?"

"You're talking about the lady I'm with."

Oh, G.o.d. Ethan was going to punch someone. Claudia didn't know if she was more thrilled or appalled.

Drake's smile turned sharp. "Detected that, did you, Mallory?"

"That's what I do, Anderson. Detect things." Ethan gave him a sleepy smile. "I'm detecting a bad smell right now. You say Claudia always wanted to be on top?" He shook his head sadly. "I'm surprised you'd come right out and admit that to your friends. Hey, did you know you've got a little spot here?" He brushed at Drake's lapel.

Drake looked annoyed. "Keep your hands to yourself."

"I don't think it's gravy." Ethan tilted his head consideringly. "Maybe wine? Like I was saying ... could be that your friends don't know Claudia. They might not realize that she only takes over when something, ah, needs fixing."

"If you're trying, in your clumsy way, to imply-"

"No, no. I'm not implying anything. I'm saying that I know from personal experience that Claudia is perfectly willing to let someone else handle things-if he knows what he's doing." Ethan gave Drake a friendly nod. "Better get that stain taken care of before it sets." He turned away.

"Listen, you-" Drake grabbed Ethan's arm.

And Ethan spun back around lightly and stood quite still, balanced in a way that was somehow ominous, like a thunderhead piled up high and dark overhead. And looking eager-and not at all friendly.

He didn't say another word.

Drake's friends hustled him away, right out the door.

Claudia's heart was pounding. Her chest felt funny. That was ... that was so ... she didn't have words for how she felt. She walked up to Ethan, who was looking rather regretful that his opportunity had been removed. "Would you have hit him?" she asked.

"Only if he threw the first punch. I was kind of hoping..." He huffed out a breath. "I guess you're mad. But d.a.m.ned if I'm going to apologize. The rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d needs to learn to keep his lip zipped."

"I'm not mad."

"You're not?" Some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

"No, that was ... nice." No one had ever come to her defense that way before. She was the strong one, the one who looked out for others. It never occurred to people that she might need help herself. And she didn't, not really, but it was lovely to have someone charge to the rescue.

Ethan had made Drake out to be the one who was s.e.xually impaired.

A grin broke out all over Claudia's face. "I misspoke. That wasn't nice. It was great. Better than melted ice cream."

Six.

"So what do you think?" Claudia asked, holding up both dresses. "The blue or the black?"

"I think you should turn the TV down," Stacy said.

"Then I wouldn't be able to hear it. The Patriots are playing, for heaven's sake."

"Football." Stacy was disgusted. She took a moment to inspect the tortilla chips in the bowl in her lap, carefully selected the biggest one and then dipped it gingerly into the salsa.

"If you're just going to dampen one corner of the chip, why bother?"

"I like it this way. Where's Neil taking you?"

"To some foreign film. Dinner first."

"Better watch out or he'll take you to a sushi bar. Neil likes sushi."

"And you know this because...?"

"He told me. Remember when you were late getting back from the board meeting of that hospice organization you're reorganizing? You asked me to meet him here and keep him entertained." She cautiously dipped another chip in the salsa. "We talked."

" He did suggest sushi. I thought Indian food sounded better. I haven't eaten a good curry in ages." She studied the two dresses and put the blue one back in the closet. Then she pulled out her emerald silk pajamas.

Well, not pajamas, technically. The outfit was actually full-cut evening slacks with an abbreviated top that b.u.t.toned up the front, though not terribly high up the front. It made her feel deliciously naughty, as if she were wearing her pj's in public. If this didn't provoke Neil into more than a good-night kiss, nothing would. She started to rehang the black dress.

"Wear the black," Stacy said without looking up. "You look smashing in the green silk, but the foreign film crowd always wears black. You'd stand out like a sore thumb. And that would make Neil uncomfortable."

Claudia sighed. And put back the pajamas. "Are you here to give me moral support or a hard time?"

"Actually, I came to park my leftovers and stayed to eat your chips. The wardrobe advice is a bonus."

Stacy's refrigerator had quit working that afternoon, so she'd brought most of its contents over to Claudia's. "I should charge you rent." Claudia frowned at the black dress. "There's nothing wrong with liking sushi. You like sushi."

"Love it. My taste buds haven't been destroyed by hot peppers the way yours have."