Chapter 13

"You've grown even lovelier while I've been gone." Hugh Fremont rose from his seat as Isobel entered the little Upper West Side bistro he'd chosen for dinner.

Her lips met his over the table's floral centerpiece. "You've just forgotten what women look like after eight weeks of Forever Plaid."

"Not so! Our stage manager was a woman. And a very attractive one at that." Hugh let his fingers linger affectionately on Isobel's cheek. "But not a patch on you."

Isobel smiled coyly. "Do you own a manual for compliments?"

"Absolutely. They distribute them on your first day at Eton." He grinned and straightened his wire-rimmed glasses.

Isobel took a sip of water, hoping it might calm her fluttering stomach. She could tell Hugh was nervous, too. He only name-dropped Eton and Cambridge when he was feeling insecure.

Their relationship had gotten off to a rocky start due to Isobel's unresolved feelings for James, but she had finally convinced Hugh that their path together was clear. Unfortunately, she hadn't quite convinced herself, and when Hugh was hired to conduct a tour of the popular barbershop musical, his imminent departure became an unspoken deadline for deciding how serious - specifically, how monogamous - they should be.

Isobel, uncharacteristically, hadn't wanted to discuss it, but Hugh had let her know he was ready to commit to their relationship. They had argued, and although they'd made up the night before he left, they hadn't settled anything. So now, in addition to making the decision they'd postponed, there was also the lingering question of what either had done while Hugh was away. Isobel hadn't so much as kissed a soul, but she didn't know about Hugh - and found she didn't want to.

Isobel hadn't shared any of this with Delphi, who was likely to concur that it was better to enjoy the relationship than dissect it. But Isobel knew Delphi's agreement would only prompt her to argue Hugh's side, to protect him from Delphi's scorn. As she sat across from Hugh, watching him tug on a lock of thick, wavy brown hair while he frowned over the wine list, she wished she had run her dilemma past Delphi. Or Percival, who was remarkably astute about relationships, despite the fact that he had yet to have one himself. It was Percival who had cottoned to the fact that James, despite his protestations to the contrary, was attracted to her.

Damn! There was James again, intruding into her thoughts as she sat with her boyfriend after not having seen him for two months. Before she could stop herself, the word flew from her mouth.

"Boyfriend."

Hugh looked up, his M&M-brown eyes registering delight.

"I didn't mean - " Isobel stopped. She didn't know what she meant, because she still hadn't made a decision. But how could she walk this back, even if she wanted to? If she did, dinner would start - and end - with an argument. No, it seemed her mouth had decided for her. The only way forward was through.

She smoothed the red-and-white checked tablecloth. "I didn't mean to start off this way, but you know...I figured we may as well just get it over with."

Hugh leaned in closer. "Are you sure?"

Isobel swallowed. "As sure as I can be."

"So no other people?"

"No other people."

Hugh's entire body seemed to unknot itself, and only then did Isobel realize just how tense he'd been. He took her hand in his, and she felt the strength of his piano-playing fingers. She concentrated fiercely on her body, looking for an erotic charge, but all she felt was a loosening sensation. It was certainly pleasant, but it wasn't quite the rush of desire she was hoping for.

Look, she lectured herself, it's not like there's anybody else on the horizon, so go with this for now and see what happens. And you do like him. A lot, actually.

"I guess it's true what they say about absence and all that," he said with a disarming smile. "I missed you tons. What have you been doing with yourself, other than assisting your barrister?"

"Lawyer," Isobel reminded him. "When you say barrister, I think barista."

"Duly noted. So what have you been up to?"

After a moment's hesitation, Isobel decided that her recent experiences were the sort of thing one would share with one's boyfriend. She was amused by the play of reactions across Hugh's handsome features as she related the details of the murder and found herself warming to her subject.

He dipped a piece of crusty bread in olive oil. "So you're going to investigate it yourself?"

"I'm in a unique position, working for Sarah. And I doubt I'll come into contact with anyone who would cause me physical harm." Sarah's warning flashed into her head, but she dismissed it.

"Unlike last time."

Isobel sipped the merlot he had ordered. "Were you worried for me?"

"Of course I was. But I have to confess, I thought it was sexy that you'd taken it upon yourself to investigate a murder."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's a nice change from my friends who don't think I should be poking my nose into other people's murders."

"Friends." Hugh gave her an appraising look. "You mean James Cooke?"

"I mean friends," Isobel said firmly. "If anyone reminds me one more time that curiosity killed the cat, this kitty is going to unleash her claws."

"See what I mean?" Hugh winked. "Sexy."

She leaned back so the waiter could set down their appetizers. "So you don't mind?"

"Look," he said reasonably, "just be careful. Don't do anything foolish, and the moment you learn something that could put you in danger, hand it off to the police. But I rather like the thought of a badass girlfriend. James fancies himself your rescuer, but I'd just as soon be your cheering section."

"Isn't that a little unchivalrous?" she teased.

"If you need me to rescue you, you know I will," he said seriously. "But I think you're pretty resourceful."

She considered him a moment. "Would you avenge my honor?"

He inclined his head graciously. "My sword is yours, my lady."

"Do you know a pianist named Kevin Rabinowitz?"

Hugh grimaced. "Unfortunately."

"He's played auditions for me several times and always does his best to unnerve me. The last time he purposely sabotaged me by playing the wrong chords. What can you do to him?"

"Do?" Hugh said uncertainly.

"Yes." Isobel speared a piece of prosciutto and waved it. "I want him ruined. Ruined!" She rolled her r dramatically.

Hugh blinked. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not joking." She sat back, indignant. "You just said you'd avenge my honor. What exactly did you mean by that?"

"You can't ask me to slander someone!"

"It isn't slander if it's true. He's an obnoxious asshole."

Hugh took the fork from Isobel and ate the prosciutto off it. "How about this? If I ever have an opportunity to hire him, I won't."

"And if anybody ever asks you to recommend him, you won't?"

"That, too." Hugh set the fork down and took her hand across the table. "And I'll make you an even better promise. The next time you have an audition at a preappointed time, I'll come along and play for you."

Isobel's face lit up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course." He pulled his hand away. "However, that kind of assistance does come at a price."

"Name it."

Hugh gave her a sly look. "After all this time, do I really have to? Check, please!"