Two Seconds Late by Eric Wilson

Author:Eric Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Two Seconds Late
ISBN: 9781613280379
Publisher: Kingstone Media
Published: 2012-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-six

REUBEN’S TONE SOUNDED PLAYFUL THROUGH THE PHONE. “ARE YOU WILLING to give me another chance, Natalie? A nice brunch, just the two of us? Have to admit, I had a fairly valid excuse last time, but I think I still owe you.”

“You do,” she said. “When?”

“I’m in town again for committee. How’s nine forty-five work? We’re hammering out a few upcoming measures, and later, I have a photo op with some bigwigs at St. Thomas Hospital. I could use a good meal in advance.”

“Are you still ignoring security measures and taking the macho-man approach to all this?”

“I’m not going to cower in a corner until trouble tracks me down, if that’s what you mean. I’m wearing a Kevlar vest, which does double duty protecting my rib while it mends, but I refuse to put any more law officers in harm’s way.”

“That’s their job.”

“Once was enough,” he said.

“You were this close to dying yourself, Reuben.”

“And so now I should ride around in the pope’s bulletproof

bubble?”

She sighed. “See you there, corazon.”

During the last month, they had explored the Frist Center for the Visual Arts, toured Belle Meade Plantation’s famed stables and mansion, and hit blues clubs in Printers Alley and honky-tonks along Broadway. Now, it was brunch at swanky Capitol Grille.

She arrived at 9:50 a.m. Five minutes late.

OK, maybe there was some passive-aggressiveness in that.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Reuben never once glanced at his watch in some veiled countermove. Instead, he slipped an arm around her waist, the Kevlar pressed between them, and guided her down the steps into the restaurant.

Natalie chose Belgian waffles with huckleberry compote, served with coffee and cream. Reuben ordered a smoked-salmon omelet with mushrooms and Brie to accompany his glass of cranberry juice.

“Are you sure about this?” she said after their server left. “Any place that spells grill with an e is beyond my budget. And have you seen the restrooms?”

He grinned. “Only the men’s.”

“Well, believe me, they could sell tickets for tours of the women’s.”

“I’d buy one, except the tabloids might have a field day with it.”

“How do you handle it? The whole watch-your-p’s-and-q’s, always-in-the-public-eye thing. I’m not sure I could deal with that.”

“A teacher’s held to a similar standard, don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “FYI, I’m just a sub.”

“You shouldn’t downplay that, Natalie.”

“I taught my first class on Tuesday.”

“Why, that’s great. How’d it go? Were you nervous?”

“I, uh . . .” Natalie saw a short black man slip into the booth at Reuben’s back. She noticed his green eyes, the fine lines of his slate-gray suit, and thought he looked vaguely familiar. She said, “I messed up my time sheet on, like, the very first try, but at least I’ll still get paid. Overall, I’d say it went pretty well. No major disasters. Didn’t lose anyone’s children or anything.”

“I never doubted you.”

She smiled.

“Those kids need you,” he added. “You realize you might be the only person who gives them that beautiful smile or takes the time to listen.”

“Spoken like a true politician.”

“The best ones mean every word.”

“You know, I first pictured you as some stodgy, balding good ole boy.

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