and the level of greed this inspired in Worthington was nearly palpable. T.S. forgot his embarrassment in his admiration for Lilah. By God, now that was a woman who had real nerve. She knew how to take on a challenge.
"I've got a great idea," Worthington announced at the next lull in conversation. "I'm having a little get-together tomorrow. For some of the backers and potential investors, the ones who have passed preliminary muster, of course." Good grief, the man had nerve. He actually wanted them to believe that he could afford to be picky about who invested in his show and who was left out in the cold.
"It's at my place," Worthington continued. "I've got a great view of the river. Cocktails, munchies, a little entertainment. What do you say? It's better than those boring charity dinners, I can tell you that." He raised his eyebrows flirtatiously at Lilah and she managed a genteel smile back. T.S. would have rushed to her rescue but the pedicured probe was back at work and he was once again busy defending his personal space at ankle level.
"We'd love to come," Lilah was saying. She smiled sweetly at T.S. but her eyes were full of questions. She was wondering why T.S. was giving her so little help.
"Yes, we'd love to," T.S. quickly agreed. He casually moved his chair a few inches to the left and it scraped across the floor with a piercing shriek. The small foot only inched its way a little closer.
Lilah suddenly looked at the clock, feigning surprise. She must have sensed that something was wrong. "Theodore, darling, shouldn't we be going? You have that appointment with the sultan of … " She let her voice trail off discreetly.
"Oh, yes. Of course. I had completely forgotten about the sultan." T.S. leapt to his feet and hurried to help Lilah from her chair, wondering if there even was such a thing as a sultan these days. Apparently, there were plenty of them since no one at the table thought it unusual that they should hurry away. There were no questions about coffee or dessert, and Worthington did not seem concerned. They had promised to attend his party the next night and he was content with what he had accomplished.
After a few halfhearted murmurings about who would pick up the check, Lilah and T.S. managed to escape out the door with all of their jewelry and valuables intact.
Lilah gulped at the fresh air. "My God. The way he was looking at my ring I felt compelled to check every three minutes to make sure I still had it on."
"That, that cheap…" T.S. struggled for words. "That awful creature next to me was harassing me under the table!" He spotted the limousine parked a few doors down and frantically waved for Grady to hurry. He wanted out of there and away from that anorexic ankle assaulter as soon as he could.
Lilah suppressed a smile. "Whatever do you mean, Theodore?"
"That woman was trying to play footsies with me. Right there. Under the table. With you right there!"
"Really, Theodore. Don't take it so hard. What do you think that man was doing to me? I could practically tell you his brand of footwear by now. Why do you think I got us out of there? We'll just have to pump him for information tomorrow. The man was halfway up my shins and I just couldn't take it anymore."
T.S. was incensed. "How utterly despicable. How completely crass. What do they do? Get together and agree on a game plan? Draw straws? Sharpen their toe points? Are they some sort of particularly active foot fetish group? Who did that other blonde get to play footsies with? Maybe the waiter. Did you happen to notice if he was standing next to her a lot?"
"Theodore, Theodore." She stopped his tirade with an upheld hand and ushered him into the limousine's back seat. "Do you think Worthington is harmless?" she asked.
"I think he's a snake," he answered promptly.
"Of course. But I meant, harmless in Emily's death."
"Probably. Why would he bother? But he's certainly up to no good somewhere. I wonder what Auntie Lil found out today."
"In that case," Lilah announced grandly, "let's give her a call." She winked at T.S. and pushed a button on the handrest. A small panel whirred back in the passenger seat door, revealing a compact cellular telephone.
"Good heavens," T.S. said, inexplicably annoyed. "It's a good thing they didn't have those contraptions when I was still working.