“Very well,” she said stiffly. “I’ll pay you after we leave here.”
With heavy sarcasm, he replied, “I think I can handle the price of a bowl of soup.”
“That’s not necessary. I pay my own way.”
“And what do you do for a living, Julia?”
She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Come now, I’ve already told you what I do.”
“I’m a teacher,” she finally said.
He frowned. “Is that why you only ordered soup?”
“No! I—I just wasn’t hungry.”
“I’m willing to buy you lunch so I can get the information I need.”
“I have another price in mind,” she muttered. “Look, Mr.—You never told me your first name.”
“And that matters?”
She drew in another deep breath. “I thought we’d agreed to swap information.”
He looked at her as if he were testing her mettle. Then he said simply, “Nick.”
“Very well, Nick. I think we can share our information and be more efficient.”
“I’ll certainly be more efficient. But I don’t see the need for you to be efficient.”
“I want to find my mother as much as you want to find your father.”
“Why? My father is a great catch. I’m not surprised your mother trapped him.”
Julia drew back, anger filling her. “My mother never set out to seduce your father. She’s never done that!”
“You don’t know that.”
His matter-of-fact tone made her crazy. “Yes, I do,” she snapped.
Nick leaned in closer, as if letting her in on a secret. “Look, Julia, my father loves women. Your mother’s not the first one who thought it would be easy to latch onto our fortune.”
Fortune…? As if a lightbulb had lit up over her head, Julia realized he was Nick Rampling of the Rampling Hotels. She remembered reading about him recently. Wealthy, successful and a real catch, judging by the eye candy constantly photographed on his arm. His father had retired some years ago, leaving Nick to run the family business, worth hundreds of millions.
But Nick wasn’t the focus of their talk; her mother was.
Mustering an attitude, she replied, “My mother doesn’t need your money!”
“Independently wealthy, is she?”
Certainly not on the Rampling scale, she thought. But Lois Chance was comfortably well off.
The waiter’s arrival gave her a reprieve from having to answer.
The waiter carefully placed each bowl in front of them. “Enjoy,” he murmured as he withdrew.
“I believe they’re famous for this particular soup,” Nick said.
“It’s quite good,” Julia said politely, as if she were attending a social tea.
“Are your parents divorced?” Nick asked after spoonful.
“No. My father died two years ago.”
She was afraid he would say something offensive. Holding on to her temper, she waited for his response.
All he said was, “I’m sorry.”
She looked up, shocked by his sensitivity.
“Why do you look so surprised? You think I can’t sympathize?”
“I’m sorry,” she hurriedly apologized.
“That doesn’t make me any happier that your mother latched onto my father, but at least she’s not bitter.”
She should have known, Julia thought. She’d obviously been suckered by Nick. “I take back my apology!”
“No need to be difficult, Julia.”
“No need to be insulting, Nick.”
He smiled. “All right, now we can get down to business.”
She stared at him, not sure exactly what he meant.
“Has your mother dated much since she became a widow?”
“Of course not. That’s why—” She stopped abruptly.
“That’s why what?” Nick asked, staring at her.
Julia lifted her chin. “That’s why I encouraged her to go on the trip. She had mourned too long.”
“So you sent her off to find a new man?”
“Absolutely not! I—I encouraged her to go on a tour to NewYork. She needed to start enjoying life again.”
“With my father?”
“I didn’t know your father and you know it! I thought she’d go to a few shows and do some shopping with her friend Evelyn.”
“So you don’t know your mother as well as you thought, do you?”
“I know my mother. I don’t know your father!” Nor did she know his son. But what she saw, she didn’t like.
The waiter returned to collect their plates and serve Nick his meal.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Yes, bring the lady some crème brûlée, please, so she’ll have something to eat.”
“No, I—”
Nick waved the waiter away. “Quit protesting. Their crème brûlée is even better than the tortilla soup.”
She sat there stiffly, promising herself she wouldn’t touch the crème brûlée no matter how good it was.
A few minutes later, the waiter returned with a crème brûlée topped with raspberry sauce. Her mouth watered as she stared at it.
“Come on, Julia,” he said with a saccharine voice, his eyes nearly twinkling as he turned on the charm, “eat the dessert. It will make you sweet.”
“It will do no such thing!”
“Eat it anyway. I can’t send it back.”
Julia debated the wisdom of giving in, but she finally picked up her spoon and tasted it.
“I told you it was good,” Nick said with a smile.
Julia put down her spoon. It was very good. But she was irritated with herself for having given him a reason to think he’d beaten her.
When she didn’t take another bite, Nick frowned. “Come on, Julia, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. Besides, I’ll feel bad if I eat a big meal and you don’t eat anything else. Really.”
“All right, I’ll eat it. But we need to discuss what we’re going to do.”
“We?”
“That’s right,” Julia said firmly.
“It was my understanding that we would exchange information, but that was all.”
“I told you I had another idea. I want to go with you to find them. I don’t think you’re going to be very nice to my mother and I want to be sure she’s okay.” She didn’t think her mother would be strong enough to deal with the loss of another man she loved. The last couple of years had been difficult for Lois, and dealing with Nick Rampling would only make things more difficult.
“I promise to deliver her to your very doorstep. Satisfied?”