The Kincaids: New Money. Jennifer Lewis

his schedule, just like any other day.

      She felt as if she was stepping onto a board of chutes and ladders. Three steps forward and dinner with RJ leads up the tall ladder! What next? Would she roll a five and plunge to estrangement and unemployment at the bottom of a chute?

      With no idea what kind of restaurant RJ would choose, Brooke decided to go smart-casual. She donned a floral patterned dress she’d never worn to work and a cute cashmere shrug she’d found in a boutique walking home from work one day. Her hair was shiny, her complexion clear for once and except for the heightened redness in her cheeks she looked pretty darn good!

      Still, she jumped when the doorbell rang. She’d never given RJ her address, but no doubt he could just look in her personnel file. She drew in a breath as she walked across the living room to open the door.

      “Hi.” She felt yet another huge goofy grin spread across her face at the sight of RJ, several inches larger than life, as always, standing right there on her doorstep. “Won’t you come in?” She’d spent at least an hour cleaning the place to within an inch of its life.

      “Sure.” He smiled, and stepped inside.

      “Would you like a martini?” She knew he loved them.

      “Why not?” RJ managed to look both classic and hip in a jacket that hung elegantly from his broad shoulders, and loose khakis. He often had the air of an old-time matinee idol, which perfectly matched his bold, aristocratic features and easy confidence. Right now she felt like his leading lady, since her dress had a vintage flair to it.

      She mixed the martinis and poured them into long-stemmed glasses while RJ complimented her place.

      “Thanks, I like it here.” She’d lived in the two-bedroom condo near Colonial Lake for five years now and was proud of how she’d decorated it. A mix of timeless pieces and funky touches that reflected her personality. “I’m renting right now but I hope the owner will sell to me when the lease is up.” As long as I still have a job by then. She smiled and handed him the drink. “Bottoms up.”

      RJ raised his glass. “I never know which end will be up lately.” He took a sip, and nodded his head in approval. “You look gorgeous.” His gaze lingered on her face, then drifted to her neck, and she became agonizingly conscious of the hint of cleavage her dress revealed.

      “Thanks.” She tried not to blush. “You don’t look too bad, either.” He’d obviously taken the time to go home and change after work, which touched her. She knew how often he headed out to dinner straight from the office.

      “I clean up okay.” He shot her a sultry look. “I’m glad to do something fun for a change. Lately I feel like I’m running from crisis to crisis, either in the company or in the family.”

      “Crisis-free here.” She offered him a plate of tiny puff pastries she’d picked up on her way home. “Want something to nibble?”

      “Why, sure.” His eyes rested on her face for a second longer than was entirely polite. All the parts of her body that never knew how much they wanted to be nibbled by RJ started to hum and tingle. Then he took a pastry, put it in his mouth and chewed.

      Brooke quickly swallowed one herself. She could see his gleaming black Porsche parked outside. She’d never ridden in it before as he used a more practical Audi sedan for work. She could imagine the neighbors whispering and peering through their miniblinds. “Where are we going for dinner?”

      “A new place just off King Street. It’s a grill, of sorts, with a Low Country twist to it. A friend told me it’s the best food he’s eaten in ages.”

      “Sounds great, but isn’t that kind of central? What if people see us together?” It probably wasn’t the best idea for them to hang out right in the historic district. She’d assumed he’d pick somewhere discreet and out of the way.

      “People see us together every day. Let them assume what they like.”

      Was he implying that this evening meant nothing so there was no need to worry if anyone saw?

      The steady heat in his gaze suggested otherwise. If she didn’t know better she’d suspect he could see right through her dress.

      “I’d prefer to go somewhere more private.” Her nerves jangled as she said it. He was her boss, after all, and not used to hearing her opinion on such things. “I’d hate for people to start talking.”

      “Let them talk. Everyone in Charleston is talking about the Kincaids right now and it hasn’t killed us yet.” His face darkened.

      He must be thinking about his father’s murder. Why was she bickering over restaurants when RJ was under so much pressure already? “All right, I’ll stop worrying. We can always tell them we were testing it out as a place to hold a client party.”

      “Always thinking.” He smiled and took another sip of his martini. “That’s a damn good martini but I think we should get going. I made a reservation for eight and it’s the hottest table in town right now.”

      Uh-oh. That meant there might be people he knew there. What if people started to gossip about them and things didn’t work out? Her hands shook slightly as she put on her shrug and grabbed her purse. She was hoping for a promotion. What if people thought she was trying to sleep her way to the top? She was hardly from RJ’s usual social circles. She swallowed hard. Still, it was too late to back out now. “I’m ready.” She was heading out to dinner with her boss, for better or worse.

      The reclined seats in his black Porsche felt every bit as decadent and inviting as she’d imagined. Excitement raced through her as RJ started the engine. She wouldn’t be able to resist telling her mom about this. She’d be impressed for sure. Then again, maybe she was starting to think too much like her mom. She did not like RJ because he had a Porsche, or a large bank account—she liked him because of his intelligence and kindness.

      And his washboard abs and fine backside.

      “Why are you smiling?” His eyes twinkled when he glanced at her.

      “I think the martini made me giddy.”

      “Excellent. I like you giddy.”

      He pulled into a parking space in the historic district, then opened her car door before she even had time to unbuckle her seat belt. He took her hand and helped her out, and she felt like royalty stepping onto King Street with RJ Kincaid. Which was funny because she’d been to restaurants here with him before—as part of a business party, of course. Now everything was different.

      Her hand stayed inside RJ’s, hot and aware, as they walked down a picturesque side street to a restaurant with a crisp green awning. The maître d’ took them to their table on a veranda overlooking a tiny but perfect garden behind the building, where flowers climbed an old brick wall and water trickled in a lion’s-head fountain. The table was set with a thick, starched tablecloth and heavy silverware, and a bright bouquet of daisies in a cut glass vase.

      RJ pulled back her chair, again making her feel like a princess.

      “A bottle of Moët, please,” he said to the waiter.

      Brooke’s eyes widened. “What are we celebrating?”

      “That life goes on.” RJ leaned back in his chair. “And dammit, we’re going to enjoy it no matter what happens.”

      “That’s an admirable philosophy.” Along with everyone else in Charleston, he must be wondering what could possibly happen next. His dad was dead and his mom was being held at the county jail under suspicion of murder. Bail had been denied as, with money and connections, she was considered a flight risk.

      And there was something he didn’t know.

      Brooke had told the police she’d seen Mrs. Kincaid at the office that night. She hadn’t mentioned this fact to RJ. In light of the arrest she wasn’t sure he’d be happy she told the truth. Of course she knew Elizabeth Kincaid was innocent, but still … Guilt trickled uneasily