“What makes you think that?”
She focused on the floor and traced the pattern in the runner with the toe of her boot. Her response was so soft he had to lean close to catch it. “You agreed to a game of make-believe for my sake. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
She jerked her head up. “You did? Why?”
“For the same reasons you did, I suppose.”
“Because Corby expected it of us?”
“Yes.” That was true, but only to a point. He hadn’t admitted it before, but he welcomed the opportunity to spend time with her. For the remaining three weeks he could pretend this remarkable woman enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers.
There was no harm in that. Was there?
“Speaking of Corby, we should be going. I’ll say good-night to Maybelle, and we can be off.”
Jessie returned moments later, and they headed down the hill, walking side by side in companionable silence. They reached Main, where a stream of concertgoers dressed in their finest overflowed the plank walkways and spilled into the street.
Eager to keep her from being jostled by the crowd, he held out his arm. She stared at it a moment, wrapped both hands around his elbow and tugged. “Would you come with me, please?”
“What is it?”
“We’re about to make our first major appearance as a couple, and we haven’t formulated a plan. We need to do that.”
Her take-charge manner couldn’t conceal her uneasiness. If following her would put her mind at rest, follow her he would. After all, he didn’t mind having her to himself a little longer.
Jessie retraced their steps with Flynt right behind her. She turned north on Coloma Street and ducked into a secluded spot.
Flynt inclined his head. “You’ve obviously given this some thought. What do you have in mind?”
“I realized we haven’t addressed the matter of physical contact. Due to the nature of our...relationship, I think it would be wise for us to clarify things.”
She had no experience dealing with a fine gentleman like Flynt—bright, well educated and so handsome in his cutaway coat, snowy white shirt and silk cravat that she had to force herself not to stare. He obviously came from a family of means. His parents loved him and lavished expensive gifts on him.
Her life had been much different. She’d been raised in a run-down farmhouse back East with a father who’d fallen prey to one moneymaking scheme after another. He’d left her all alone and destitute when he died eight years before, giving her no choice but to accept Ace’s offer of a job in his saloon.
She’d already committed a terrible faux pas at the ice-cream parlor, gazing at Flynt the way Maggie’s girls did one of the High Stakes Saloon’s patrons. If she didn’t find out what he expected of her, she was sure to make more. The last thing she needed was for him to suspect her of being the type of woman for whom he held such contempt.
If only she had experience in romantic relationships, but the few gentlemen she’d known were business colleagues. She’d kept things between them strictly professional.
Flynt studied her and nodded. “So that’s why you dragged me here? I thought you were upset about me offering my arm.”
She forced an airy laugh. “Of course not. It was crowded. You were just being a gentleman.”
“Exactly. I would have done the same for any woman in my care.”
His words were a splash of cold water in her face. When he’d seen her at the top of the stairs, he’d looked enraptured. She’d allowed herself to believe he was honestly taken with her, but his reaction had been a performance for Maybelle’s benefit. Nothing more.
“I understand, but I’m not just any woman, am I? I’m the one who is supposedly smitten with you, as you are with me. As such, I’m sure Corby will expect us to act the part in all respects. How do you plan to proceed?”
“I hadn’t really given it any thought. Such things tend to develop naturally.”
That made sense, but she still needed to know how a lady was to behave. Lord, I could use Your help. “While that might be true in most situations, ours is unique. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know what you intend to do beforehand, so I’m not taken by surprise.”
“Fair enough. Shall we get going now? We don’t want to be late. I will, once again, offer you my arm, as I’ll do in the future whenever the situation warrants.”
“Very well.” She took it without hesitation.
He cast her a sidelong glance and smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Not at all. Flynt was everything she would look for in a man—if her past didn’t prevent her from harboring such dreams. Now that she’d cleared things up, she might as well enjoy the closeness and feeling of belonging—for as long as it lasted.
He guided them safely through the crowd and into the theater, where he handed their tickets to an usher. The young man led them to their seats, which were near the front. Corby must have paid a premium price for them.
She settled into the plush velvet cushions and soaked in the beauty of the elegant surroundings. A quick calculation of the number of seats revealed that fifteen hundred people could enjoy a performance in the impressive building.
The buzz of conversations filled the air. She looked up one row and down the next, admiring the colorful gowns on the ladies. By contrast, the vast majority of men wore black, the same as Flynt. But no man was as suave and debonair as he.
She turned and found him looking right at her with unbridled admiration. Perhaps she’d been wrong and he did find her appealing after all.
He shifted his gaze to the doors. “Look who just came in.”
Corby and the silk-clad, silver-haired woman on his arm followed an usher. The couple was headed their way. Closer and closer they came until...
Jessie whispered to Flynt. “You don’t think they’re going to be right behind us, do you?”
“Looks that way.”
Sure enough, the usher paused at the end of the row and held out a hand. Corby and the elegantly attired woman made their way to the two empty seats.
Once they were settled, Corby leaned forward. “Good evening. It’s nice to see you here. Flynt’s met my charming wife before, but allow me to introduce you two ladies. Jessie, this is Fidelia Corbin, the light of my life.” He gazed at his wife like a smitten schoolboy. The crusty manager had a softer side. That knowledge made him a little less intimidating. “Delia, this is Miss Jessica Sinclair, the newest member of our drafting team.”
The older woman clasped Jessie’s hand and smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Carter speaks very highly of you. He neglected to tell me what a beautiful young woman you are, though. I adore red hair, and yours is such a lovely shade.”
“Thank you. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
The conductor stepped from behind the floor-to-ceiling brocade curtains in front of the stage, and a hush came over the room, sparing Jessie the need to carry on a conversation. Her stomach had already been roiling. With Corby seated so close that she could smell the cigar smoke on his jacket, she felt as though a hurricane had hit.
Mrs. Corbin gave Jessie’s