Something Real (Whiskey Men, #2)(19)

I look at the clock on the wall. “It’s ten till. We should probably go.” He looks disappointed that our time is up. “I feel bad you didn’t get to gamble and were too busy showing me the ropes. We can come back after dinner.”

He shakes his head as his hand fits across my lower back. He’s leading me toward the restaurant, and just like every other time he’s touched me, I feel it everywhere. “I don’t gamble. I’m not good at it. However, you are on a lucky streak. We can come back after dinner if you want to.”

“No, I’m happy with my fifty dollars. But I do have to say, I can see how people find this addictive. It’s a rush for sure.”

We walk into the restaurant, and the hostess smiles at Ford.

“Hello. We have a reservation for four. It’s under Ford Blaze.”

The waitress looks Ford up and down with a smile. Jealousy shoots through me, and I step closer to him even though I know I don’t have the right to.

“Right this way,” she tells us.

We follow her, and Ford keeps his hand at my waist until we arrive at the table. He holds my seat out for me before taking his own and pulling me closer to him.

I try not to read anything into the way he’s treating me. Ford has always been a good man. He opens doors, and he’s always been attentive and kind. I shouldn’t get my hopes up that this can be anything more than what it is. I’m here for work.

“Okay, so I made sure to look up Jim Ogle before we left. He’s married to Victoria Ogle, and they’ve been married for fifteen years. He has fifteen stores in Nevada, and he seems happy with Blaze Whiskey since he’s added it to every store he’s opened in the last five years. His sales were down in the last quarter, but I’m not sure why. Every other store in the region has had at least a three percent increase.”

He sits back in his chair, staring at me in awe. “I’m impressed.”

I sit up a little straighter. “Thank you. I didn’t want you to regret asking me to come. I think I’ve done everything I can to prepare for this dinner—and the conference—but I’ll probably have questions.”

He rises as an older couple comes toward us, but he leans down and whispers, “I’m happy I brought you, Lily. You have nothing to prove.”

The way he shortened my name and the feel of his breath on my neck gives me a full body shiver. I feel a warmth spread in my lower belly as he rises up to shake hands. “Jim, I’m so glad we could get together before tomorrow. And Victoria, it’s so good to see you again.”

I stand up, still recovering from Ford’s confession. I shake hands with the Ogles before we all sit down. The conversation runs smoothly, and Jim seems to be an interesting story teller. If nothing else, he likes to hear himself talk.

However, I’m surprised when he openly starts flirting with the waitress. Victoria’s face turns red, and she looks down at the menu she’s holding. I look back at Jim as if I totally misinterpreted what he was doing. Surely, that’s the case.

We order our meals, but an uneasiness has settled over me, and I grow quiet. Poor Victoria is trying to seem unfazed, but it’s obvious that she’s upset. I try to bring her into the conversation. “Victoria, do you have any children?”

Jim finishes off his glass of whiskey and slams it noisily on the table. “We sure do. Eighteen years ago and she still hasn’t lost the baby weight.”

I gasp. No he didn’t just say that.

Ford tenses beside me, and I don’t know what to say to that. With a red face, Victoria smiles softly at me, ignoring her husband. “We have one son. Mitchell is graduating high school this year, and he plans to go to college on the East Coast. I had hoped he was going to pick somewhere closer, but he wants to spread his wings.”

I give her a warm smile. “I raised my sister, and she recently got married. It’s hard having them leave home. I miss having her around the house.”

Victoria smiles in understanding. We continue talking, and at this point, I don’t even care that I’m not including her husband in the conversation. I catch Victoria nervously watching him as he throws back another drink. The more he drinks, the more nervous she gets.

Even Ford notices it. He tilts his drink toward the man sitting across from him. “Jim, you better slow down and leave some for the rest of us.”

Jim laughs out loud obnoxiously. “We won’t be running out. I’m having dinner with the man that makes my favorite whiskey.”

Ford’s smile is tight. Most people wouldn’t realize it, but I know him pretty well, and it’s obvious that his patience is wearing thin.

Luckily, the waitress brings our plates and walks around the table setting them down. I hold my breath, waiting for Jim to hit on her again, but he doesn’t. I breathe a sigh of relief when she walks away.

I point at Victoria’s plate of pasta. “Oh, Victoria, that looks good. What is it called again?”

Jim looks over at his wife’s plate. “I told you to get the salad.”

She puts her fork into the pasta. “I didn’t want the salad.” She lifts her eyes to mine, and I see the defiance darkening them. “This is pasta alla Norma. It has eggplant in it.” She tilts the plate toward me. “Do you want to try it?”

Jim interrupts her. “Give it to her and I’ll order you the salad.”