casually as possible.
“Just fine.” He fixed his eyes on his menu, but his face seemed to take on a slightly deeper hue. “You wanted the fish, you said?”
A waiter in a bow tie surfaced to take their orders. After checking with Isabel and receiving her consent, Robert also asked for a few more glasses of wine. Why did he look uneasy? As if she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t have.
“Who was that on the phone?” Isabel asked as the maître d’ arrived to pour their merlot.
“Just somebody from New York,” he said with a distant air. “Say, Isabel. Do you think that tomorrow we could—?”
“Somebody who?” she asked, stopping him.
“Really doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “It was business.”
But Isabel couldn’t imagine what sort of business might take place on a weekend and at this hour. “I see,” she said, hearing the hurt tinge her voice.
Robert stretched his hand across the table and held hers. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Worry about anything.”
But the fact that he said it only troubled her all the more. “I’m not sure I know what you’re saying.”
“Just that things have a way of working out. When they’re meant to.” He lightly squeezed her hand, but she withdrew it.
“A light tomato bisque to start?” the server said, setting their soups in front of them.
“Yes, thanks,” Robert rejoined, avoiding Isabel’s gaze.
Isabel knew then that whatever was going on, Robert wasn’t about to let her in on it. She didn’t know why and she didn’t know what. But he was hiding something from her, all right. Something gnawed at her, saying her dad had been correct in his assessment yet again. She had the same niggling sensation now that she’d had with her last boyfriend, the one who’d run around on her. After him, she hadn’t become involved with anyone on more than just a casual basis. It had hurt too much being lied to and misused that way. She’d thought it would take a lifetime to get over it. But when she’d seen Robert again, everything had changed. Her heart had finally begun to open up and let somebody in. And now that somebody was about to sock her in the gut.
Fire welled in her throat as she tried to push her doubts away, but they fought…and kicked…and clambered their way back up to the surface, making her head spin with all the nauseating possibilities. Isabel willed her eyes not to water, but they did anyhow.
“If you’ll excuse me a minute,” she said, pushing back in her chair and stepping away. And then she hightailed it into the bathroom, where she yanked out a wad of paper towels and bawled into them like a baby.
Chapter Four
Cindy took a bite of her pastrami on rye and chewed thoughtfully. “Well, I guess there are two ways to look at it,” she finally said. “Either he’s hiding something from you, or he’s not.”
They sat in The College Deli, a local establishment not too far from the central campus grounds. “Of course he’s hiding something,” Isabel answered. “It’s just like my dad said.” She picked at her salad, then set it aside, suddenly not hungry. “That Robert Reed can’t be trusted,” she said, echoing her dad’s deep baritone.
“You know what I think?” Cindy said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “I think you’re getting yourself all worked up over something that may not even be. Why not just ask him?”
“I did ask him. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He was evasive at best.”
“So, maybe it really was about business.”
“What business would that be? Robert’s in medical school, not employed by some Fortune 500 company.”
Cindy met her eyes. “I guess I kind of see your point. But what would he have to hide?”
“Another woman?”
Cindy paused a beat to consider this. “Well, what’s he been like with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Her lips turned up in a naughty grin. “Is the Statue of David as raging-hot up close and personal as it was under that spotlight?”
Isabel shrugged sadly. “I wouldn’t know.”
“What?” Cindy reached out and touched her elbow. “You can’t mean—”
“Not even a good-night kiss.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, totally. Right? What’s up with that?” Isabel self-consciously twisted a lock of hair around her index finger. “Do you think it’s me?”
Cindy choked on her sweet tea. “Are you kidding me? You listen up, girlfriend. You present quite a package. And I’m not just talking the body. I mean the mind, and the great