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“Who taught you?”
Ah, there was that minefield she’d been dreading. “Josh,” she admitted. “I sort of ran into him on the water this morning.”
“Ran into him?”
“Literally,” she confessed. “I took the kayak out. When I slammed into his rowboat, I lost the paddle. He took me on board his boat.”
“As in kidnapped you or offered you refuge?”
“Refuge, I suppose.”
“I see. You sound surprisingly upbeat for a woman who has spent the entire day in the company of a man who supposedly annoys you, doing something that you wouldn’t have been caught dead doing a week ago.”
“Times change.”
“And your attitude toward Josh—has that changed, too?”
“I always said he was nice. He just got on my nerves last night at your place.”
Maggie laughed. “Oh, this is too good. I’m picking up Melanie and coming over. I want to hear more about this fishing excursion.”
“Forget about it,” Ashley said emphatically.
“Why?”
“Because Josh is coming back for dinner. I’m cooking the fish.”
“You’re cooking the fish?” Maggie repeated so skeptically it was insulting.
“Yes, dammit. You could help and just tell me how. It’ll save me having to look up a recipe.”
“Who’s cleaning the fish?” Maggie asked.
“Josh.”
“Thank God. For a minute, I thought the world might be coming to an end.”
“Stop it. Are you going to help me out here or not, Maggie?”
“Okay, okay. You want simple or fancy?”
“What do you think?” Ashley asked wryly.
“Simple it is. Dredge the fillets in flour, salt and pepper, then fry them in about a quarter inch of oil. Make sure the oil is hot, but not too hot. You don’t want to burn the fish.”
Ashley jotted the instructions down, even though they seemed foolproof. “How long?”
“Till the flour is golden brown. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes on each side, depending on how thick the fillets are.”
“And that’s all there is to it?” Ashley asked, frowning at the simple directions. “You’re not leaving out anything critical, so I’ll wind up being totally embarrassed?”
“I would not let you humiliate yourself,” Maggie said, sounding wounded by the suggestion. “This is an easy one, Ash. You’ll do fine. What else are you having?”
“Salad, and Josh said he’d pick up something for dessert.”
“Chocolate?”
“Yes, if you must know.”
“My, my. You don’t usually lay into the chocolate until you’re really, really comfortable with a man. Or under a lot of stress. Which is it, Ashley?”
“Go suck an egg. Josh is an easygoing guy. It’s no big deal. It’s not like it’s a date or something.”
“Really? Not a date? Just out of curiosity, what would you call it?”
“Dinner with a friend.”
Maggie chuckled. “Delusional, but nice. Have fun, big sister.”
She hung up before Ashley could reassert that her sister was way, way off base.
What was it with women and chocolate? Josh stared indecisively at the display case in the bakery. There was a chocolate layer cake, a chocolate mousse cake, two brownies with icing and walnuts, and eclairs topped with chocolate icing and filled with chocolate cream. They all looked decadent enough to him, but which one would satisfy Ashley? He had a hunch she was very particular.
“Decided yet?” the cheery young clerk asked him.
“Which is your favorite?”
She shrugged. “I like blueberry pie myself.”
Obviously she was going to be no help at all. He finally gave up in frustration. “I’ll take it all.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you having a party or something?”
“Not really.” He was pretty sure dinner with Ashley didn’t qualify as a party. He doubted she even saw it as a date.
To be honest, he hadn’t quite decided what this evening was all about, either. He just knew that he’d rushed like crazy to get ready to go to Rose Cottage. Being invited there by one of the D’Angelo sisters was like a dream come true. Despite all the strides he’d made in building his self-confidence over the years, he still couldn’t quite believe it. He felt like the shy, awkward boy he’d been at sixteen. He wanted to get this right.
He paid the disbelieving clerk for the boxes of desserts, then headed the few miles back to Rose Cottage.
When Ashley opened the door, he almost swallowed his tongue. She was wearing a thin robe that clung to her still damp body, revealing every intriguing shadow, every lush curve. Her hair was in damp ringlets that sprang free from some sort of scrunchy thing that was supposed to be holding it on top of her head.
“Sorry,” she said, sounding frantic. “I had a phone call right after you left. It took me longer to get started in the shower than I expected. Make yourself at home. Get whatever you need in the kitchen to clean the fish. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She bolted for the stairs without waiting for a reply. Just as well, Josh thought, since it took him fully a minute to get the blood flowing back to his brain where it was necessary for speech.
“Clean the fish,” he muttered as he set out to find the kitchen. “Just concentrate on cleaning the fish.” Maybe that would drive the provocative image of Ashley in that revealing robe out of his head before she came back downstairs.
He was out back, scraping the scales from the last fish, when she finally emerged from the house. Thankfully, she was wearing loose jeans and a shapeless T-shirt, which looked as if they’d been borrowed from someone two sizes larger. Even so, she managed to stir his blood. Apparently she was going to do that no matter what she wore, he concluded. He’d just have to resign himself to it.
She’d dried her tawny hair into waves that fell to her shoulders. Her skin was clear and free of makeup, except for the faintest pink gloss on her lips. Even with all the suntan lotion she’d lathered on while they were on the water, her color was heightened to a healthy pink glow. She looked a thousand-percent better than the pale, shaken woman he’d met the day before.
“How’s it coming out here?” she asked.
“Just about finished. Have you figured out how to cook them?”
“Rest easy,” she said. “My sister has coached me through it. We probably won’t die of food poisoning.” She regarded him with apparent amusement. “By the way, why are there four bakery boxes on the kitchen table?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t make up my mind what you’d like best.”
“So you bought out the place?”
“Pretty much—at least everything chocolate,” he admitted. “You don’t have to eat it all.”
“But I probably will,” she admitted with a sigh. “Chocolate is what gets me through stress.”
“And you’re stressed now?” he asked.
She hesitated, then regarded him with surprise. “Not right this second, no.”
He grinned. “I told you there were advantages to a day in a rowboat.”
“Apparently so. I haven’t thought about work all day long. That’s like some sort of miracle.”
“Then let’s keep that track record intact and get dinner on the table.”
Ashley nodded at once. “Good plan. If I start to bring up anything work-related over dinner, cut me off.”
Josh wasn’t sure he’d be able to agree to that indefinitely, but he could for tonight. “No work. Got it.”
In the kitchen, they worked side-by-side. He made the salad while she fried the fish. When the plates were ready, they sat at the kitchen table and Ashley lifted a glass of wine in a toast.
“To relaxation,” she said.
“It’s a wonderful thing,” Josh added.
“Even if it can’t last forever,” she said, looking just a little sad.
“Hey, that borders on mentioning work,” he scolded. “Maybe we need to have a penalty.”
Competitive woman that she was, Ashley immediately seized on the idea, just as he’d known she would.
“Such as?” she asked at once.
“We each have a pot and put in a dollar for every infraction. We’re on the honor system. We have to put the money in even if the other person isn’t around. At the end of the week, the one with the fewest violations gets all the money.” He grinned. “And gets treated to dinner by the loser.”
She considered the scheme thoughtfully, as if weighing her odds of winning. “I can do that,” she said finally.
Josh doubted it, but he lifted his glass. “To relaxation,” he toasted one more time.
They’d no sooner taken a sip than his cell phone rang. He could have sworn he’d left it turned off on his dresser, but apparently it had been stuck in the pocket of his jacket.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Ashley asked.
He debated the wisdom of it, then finally reached for his jacket and grabbed it out of the pocket. “Yes?”
“Have you lost your mind, Madison?”
“Mr. Williams,” he said, barely containing a sigh.
“I’ve spoken to Stephanie,” his boss said. “She tells me the two of you have called off your engagement.”
Josh barely clung to his temper. “We were never engaged, sir.”
“Semantics. We all knew you were headed in that direction.”
“You were the only one who really believed that,” Josh corrected. “Fortunately Stephanie and I realized before it was too late that it would be a mistake. Look, sir, this isn’t really a good time. Perhaps we can discuss this later.”
“Now’s good for me,” Creighton Williams insisted. “You realize what this is going to do to your future here at Brevard, Williams and Davenport, don’t you?”
“I assume it’s over. If so, that’s fine.”
His ready acceptance of the end of his career clearly caught his boss off guard. “Now let’s not be hasty, Madison. You’re a good lawyer. This might get you off that fast track, but I don’t want to lose you over this. Besides, Stephanie made it clear she’d be furious if I fired you. We’ll work something out when you get back.”
“That’s very generous of you, sir, but I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“What the devil are you saying?”
He finally risked a look at Ashley and noted that she was listening avidly to every word. “I’m saying that I’m on vacation. We’ll discuss it another time. Thanks for calling. I mean that, sir. It was very gracious of you.”
He shut the phone off completely and barely resisted the urge to toss it out the back door. He waited for the litany of questions to begin.
“Go ahead, ask,” he said finally.
She grinned. “That was about work, right?”
He nodded, uncertain where she was going. It didn’t seem to be in the direction he’d expected.
Ashley held up a slip of paper with little marks on it. “I counted half a dozen references to work, minimum. That’s six dollars in your pot, please.”
Josh fought a laugh. “You counted that conversation in our bet?”
“Of course. We had a deal. We sealed it with a toast before the phone rang.”
“Oh, brother, you must be hell on wheels in a courtroom.”
She grinned. “That’s another one. Seven dollars.”
He frowned at her. “Dammit, I was referring to your work, not mine.”
