where I used to give parties for hundreds of people with menus that allowed for every dietary restriction you could possibly think of.”
“I’m lacto-ovo. I eat ice cream. And cheese. And ranch dressing.”
“So you could have a salad, a baked potato, some veggies and dessert.”
“Yeah, I could.” Les looked from her to Brady. “Is she your girlfriend?”
Hallie looked at him, too, curious about the answer he would give.
His cheeks flushed just a little under his dark skin, and he answered with a frown, “We’re…friends.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
His flush turned to a deep crimson blush, and he opened his mouth twice without getting any words out.
“If he is,” Hallie said, “it’s none of your business. In fact, if he isn’t, it’s none of your business.”
“I bet he isn’t. Sandra says he’s dreadfully lacking in social skills. She says he never had a clue how to make a woman happy.”
And Sandra was a deceitful, scheming, lying witch, Hallie thought snidely.
The waitress took their orders while dividing her surreptitious looks between the three of them, then returned almost immediately with drinks and salads. When the silence had dragged on interminably, Hallie nudged Brady under the table, then nodded slightly toward Les.
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