LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Three

      George arrived promptly at seven that evening, as Amy had known he would. Guessing that he was a stickler for punctuality, she’d made an effort to be ready for him. After a great deal of thought she’d settled on a short, sleeveless sheath in pale apple-green and covered it with a navy linen jacket. His expression, when she opened the door to him, was hard to judge.

      “Nice,” he commented, as he stepped through the doorway. Since his gaze was focused on the couch at bright orange pillows that she’d bought that afternoon, she couldn’t be sure if he was complimenting those or her.

      She decided not to respond, just in case. He looked pretty good himself. Dark-gray tailored slacks, a crisp blue dress shirt, no tie and a black jacket—very cosmopolitan.

      She was admiring the cut of the jacket across his broad shoulders when he turned to look at her. Quickly adjusting her expression she grabbed up her purse. “Okay, I’m ready.”

      He grunted something in reply and held the door open for her to pass through. All the way down in the elevator she could sense the tension in him. Obviously he regretted his impulsive invitation. The thought bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She was looking forward to her first outing in her new hometown, and the least he could do was show a little enthusiasm.

      She waited until they were in the car and heading toward the city before saying, “This is so nice of you, Georgie. You were right, I was beginning to feel just a tiny bit lonely.”

      There was an odd pause before he said somewhat acidly, “I imagine it will take you a while to feel at home…Amelia.”

      She winced. “Sorry. J.R. I keep forgetting.”

      “Yes,” George said deliberately. “You do.”

      “I promise I’ll try harder to remember.”

      “Thank you.”

      This, Amy thought wryly, was not a very good beginning. Admittedly, when her mother had mentioned that George had offered to show her around town, she’d had serious misgivings. After all, the Georgie she remembered was all thumbs and couldn’t even tie his shoelaces properly. He’d just about withered away from embarrassment any time a girl so much as looked at him. Amy had foreseen all kinds of disasters with dear Georgie Porgie as an escort.

      But this George was a whole different animal. His take-charge attitude could be a little patronizing and he needed to lighten up, but he’d definitely improved in the looks department and she rather liked his experienced manner. The tight control he kept over his emotions was a bit intimidating, though, and she wasn’t quite sure how to take him, which certainly made things interesting.

      She couldn’t wait to find out what had happened to him since he’d left Willow Falls, and if traces of that loveable, sensitive kid might still lurk beneath the sometimes formidable mask of sophistication.

      The restaurant was everything she’d imagined and more. This wasn’t the first time she’d visited a big city, but it was the first time she’d been able to appreciate the finer things in life. This place, with its glittering chandeliers, exotic paintings and secluded candlelit tables, was right out of a Hollywood movie.

      Surveying the elegantly dressed women in the room, she was glad she’d chosen the dress and jacket to wear, instead of the black pants and silk shirt that had been her second choice. Thank heavens for Internet shopping. She would never have found anything nearly this dressy in Willow Falls. Even the tiny mall in Shepperton, the nearest town, wouldn’t have had the choices she had on the Web.

      George held her chair for her and, feeling a little like a nominee at the Golden Globes, she slid onto her seat. Several women at nearby tables sent glances her way, or rather, George’s way. She decided they were envious. Smugly, she settled back to enjoy herself.

      It would have been easier if George hadn’t looked so grim. “This is very nice, J.R.,” she said hoping to relax those stern features.

      “Martoni’s is one of the best restaurants in town.” He picked up his menu and opened it. “Mother practically lives here.”

      “When am I going to see her?” Amy reached for the gold-embossed menu. “I haven’t seen Aunt Betty since I was about twelve. That was when she came to Idaho for a visit. I think you were away at college at the time.”

      “Mother called this afternoon to make sure you’d arrived safely. I suggested she give you a day or two to settle in. She’ll be stopping by soon, no doubt. Don’t be surprised if it’s at the crack of dawn. She can’t wait to give you pointers on how to survive in this big, evil city.”

      Amy wrinkled her nose at him. “You sound cross with her.”

      This brought his head up. “Do I? I can’t imagine why.”

      Detecting the note of sarcasm in his voice, Amy couldn’t help wondering what Aunt Betty had said or done to upset her son. “Well, it was nice of her to offer her help and I appreciate it. Just as soon as I get my phone service hooked up I’ll call her to thank her.”

      George made his disgruntled elephant sound. “What kind of wine do you prefer?”

      “Oh, I…don’t drink. I’ll have a Shirley Temple.”

      He shot a swift glance at her, and she smiled back at him.

      “All right, then. What would you like to eat?”

      She scanned the impressive list of items. “The glazed salmon sounds wonderful.”

      “You’re

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