Her Lover's Legacy. Adrianne Byrd

father?” She gazed up at him. “Ah, yes. I see the resemblance now.” Her smile turned flirtatious. “You’re very handsome like your father.”

      Malcolm smiled. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

      Samira glanced at Gloria and winked. “You better hold on to your heart with this one. He just might steal it.”

      Gloria’s face burned; she had to touch it to make sure it hadn’t melted off.

      Malcolm coughed, choking back his own laughter.

      “This way,” Samira sang, grabbing two menus. “Will it be just the two of you?”

      “Yes,” Gloria answered.

      “Would you like your and Harmon’s regular table? It’s available.”

      “Uh,” she said, stalling.

      “That will be fine,” Malcolm answered, carefully keeping his eyes away from Gloria’s.

      Gloria fell in line behind the hostess as she led them toward the back of the restaurant. It might have been her imagination, but she swore she felt Malcolm’s heavy gaze trained on the back of her head. Was he already regretting coming here with her?

      Most likely.

      “Have a good evening,” Samira said, setting the menus down on their table. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

      Malcolm and Gloria thanked the hostess and slid into opposing sides of a large booth.

      Gloria tried her best not to jump or react when Malcolm’s knees and legs bumped and brushed against her own. She needed to get it together before she looked like a Mexican jumping bean.

      “Well, this is certainly cozy,” Malcolm said, finally settling into his seat. “I can see why this was your and Dad’s favorite spot.”

      Gloria’s head snapped up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

      He shrugged. “Nothing.”

      “No,” she countered. Her eyes narrowed. “It definitely meant something.”

      Malcolm met her gaze dead-on.

      “Is there something you want to say to me?” she challenged.

      Silence.

      “Go ahead. What is it?”

      He shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” He picked up his menu.

      “No.” She snatched the menu from his hand and slapped it back down onto the table. “We need to have this out. Go ahead. Ask me.”

      “All right, then,” he said, leaning forward. “Were you in love with my father?”

      Gloria drew a deep breath despite the fact that she was expecting the question. Her shoulders squared while her back morphed into an iron rod.

      Malcolm cocked his head. “Maybe you two got together for more than just…business dinners?”

      She shook her head, disappointed in just how little Malcolm thought of his father and of her, for that matter. “I’m not going to lie,” she said evenly. “I loved your father.”

      Malcolm’s jaw hardened.

      “But I was not in love with him,” she clarified. “It was strictly business between us. He was my mentor and my hero.”

      “Hero?” he spat. “Not too many employees think of their bosses as heroes.”

      “Everyone that worked for your father did,” she retorted. “I believe you did, too, at one time,” she added as a sucker punch.

      Malcolm’s chin came up as he sat up straight.

      “Frankly, I can’t believe you’d think such a thing. I had nothing but the highest regard for your father. I respected him, myself and his marriage.” Even as she confessed, she watched waves of doubt wash over Malcolm’s stony features. It only angered her more.

      “Why is it that you’re so determined to think the worst of your father? Surely it’s not because he didn’t support that one bill?”

      “That one bill…” Malcolm clamped his mouth shut and forced himself to calm down. “You know what? I think coming here was a mistake.”

      It was Gloria’s turn to cock her head and stare. “You have a habit of doing that.”

      “A habit of doing what?”

      “Running away.” Gloria leaned back and folded her arms. “You haven’t noticed?” She smirked. “When things get a little hot, you always seem to need to run out…for air.”

      Malcolm leaned back and mimicked her pose. “Is that right?”

      “It makes me wonder if you have what it takes to…”

      Brows sloped unevenly, he asked, “Have what it takes to do what?”

      “Nothing,” she said blithely. “Forget I said anything.”

      “No.” He shook his head. “Obviously, you have something you want to say, as well.”

      Their waiter, Quon, a tall, lanky Asian with an obvious aversion to smiling, arrived and Gloria breathed a sigh of relief.

      “Ah, Ms. Kingsley. Nice to see you here again,” he said, setting two empty plastic cups before them and then filling them with a pitcher of iced water. “Are you ready to order?”

      “Yes,” Gloria said.

      “No,” Malcolm countered, and then added, “Could you please give us a few more minutes?”

      Gloria’s brows stretched high. Maybe she wasn’t off the hook just yet.

      “As you wish, sir,” Quon said, sliding away from their table.

      “You’ve never struck me as someone who liked to play games,” Malcolm said, the moment they were alone. “But I’m starting to feel like an unprotected king in the center of a chess game.”

      Gloria shrugged her shoulder and tried her best to look as innocent as possible. “I don’t know what you mean.”

      “Don’t you?” He laughed. “You tell me to come help pack my father’s office, assuring me it will only take a couple of hours when you and I both know it would be, at minimum, an all-nighter. Then of course there is this dinner—”

      “Well. You make it sound like I held a gun to your head. Is being alone with me so terrible?” she snapped. “Maybe I just wanted…to talk. Share stories about how great a man your father was or how much he meant to me and the other staffers. I was a fan of your father’s long before I started working for him. He was a powerful speaker and he campaigned for health-care reform long before the number of uninsured reached crisis numbers. I was thrilled when Senator Cayman recommended me to Harmon. I just…” After a few seconds with struggling for the right words, she clamped her mouth shut, but her lips continued to tremble and tears burned the backs of her eyes.

      Gloria drew a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

      At the first sight of tears shimmering in Gloria’s eyes, Malcolm felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Obviously, the woman was still grieving, and here he was…

      He sighed. “Look. So far it seems I’ve spent half the night apologizing to you for my behavior. Why don’t we just…start over?”

      She glanced at him and wiped a tear before it broke free from the mesh of her eyelashes.

      “For real,” he assured her. “This time, I’ll be on my best behavior.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I promise.”

      Finally, Gloria smiled and nodded.

      Their waiter returned. “Have you two made your decisions?”

      “Hmm.”