later. Nick had managed to keep the Porsche to about 70 mph,
but Shari could see that the restraint cost him some of his enjoyment.
They found a small café which,
thankfully, had only a few people in it. The waitress was friendly but not
ingratiating as she greeted Nick by name and led them to a small table, deep in
the café, where they could not be easily seen. She took their drink orders and
left them with the menus as well as her verbal list of the day’s specials.
“Do you drink all the time?” Shari asked
as Nick took a large sip of his vodka and cranberry juice that the waitress
returned with in minutes.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be over the limit
with one drink. I’ll get you back safely.”
“That was only part of my concern. I’d
be concerned for anyone who has a problem with drinking.”
“I don’t have a problem with drinking,”
he protested defensively. “I drink because I enjoy it, but I don’t need to
drink, mother,” he added the last word sarcastically. “I’m touched by your concern.
Most people are only concerned that I’ll be able to make records and perform at
concerts to keep the dollars rolling in.”
Shari felt an unwanted and unexpected
twinge of compassion for him.
“What shall we have to eat?” She asked,
deliberately changing the subject. She didn’t want to be feeling sorry for him.
She wasn’t sure how to deal with this
Nick Badley. She could handle the sarcastic Nick Badley, the arrogant and
over-indulged Nick Badley and even the depraved Nick Badley, but this one made
her uncomfortable. This one, who unemotionally admitted that he knew he was
nothing more than a purse-liner for many people. He delivered the words with an
emptiness that pricked her conscience and gave her the uneasy feeling that it
wasn’t going to be as easy to pigeon-hole Nick Badley as she had thought.
Nick, totally unaware of the effect his
words had on Shari, studied the menu and then announced: “I’ll have the ten-ounce
steak with twice-baked potatoes.”
Shari looked up surprised. “I don’t
think I’ve seen you eat anything since breakfast in Las Vegas.”
“Oh I eat, all right. But, according to
my mother, not enough. What are you having?”
“The soup of the day sounds good and
I’ll have a spinach salad.”
“Hope you’re not watching your weight.
You look perfectly proportioned to me.” He couldn’t help his eyes being drawn
to her surprisingly full bosom, given how slim she was.
Shari narrowed her eyes at him and said:
“Don’t go there, Mr. Badley. You’ve almost redeemed yourself for your insulting
comments in the limo today so don’t spoil it.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t really sound
repentant. Teasing Shari Goodwin could become fun. Was he teasing? She
definitely was perfectly proportioned to him and as for the mile high club...better
not go there for real.
He gestured to the waitress who appeared
right away to take their order.
“So tell me about yourself, Shari
Goodwin.” So the “Goodwin” was back again.
“I would have thought you’d want to talk
about yourself.”
“We’ll be doing enough of that. I’m
curious to know why someone so young has a bucket list. What are you…twenty-five,
twenty-six?” She nodded and gestured with her hand to indicate that she was
around there.
“Don’t you have a bucket list?”
“I don’t need a bucket list. I’m living
it. Sometimes I wonder what else there is to do and I’m only thirty-two.” He
smiled ruefully.
Most people would love to have your
problem, thought Shari unsympathetically. She would not let Nick Badley’s “poor
me” comments fool her. She had experienced both his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Chapter 7
Nick settled the bill and left a
substantial tip for the waitress who smiled her appreciation. Holding the door
open for Shari, he gestured in the direction of the Riverwalk.
In spite of the brilliant sunshine, it
was a cool day and the number of people sharing the walk
but Shari could see that the restraint cost him some of his enjoyment.
They found a small café which,
thankfully, had only a few people in it. The waitress was friendly but not
ingratiating as she greeted Nick by name and led them to a small table, deep in
the café, where they could not be easily seen. She took their drink orders and
left them with the menus as well as her verbal list of the day’s specials.
“Do you drink all the time?” Shari asked
as Nick took a large sip of his vodka and cranberry juice that the waitress
returned with in minutes.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be over the limit
with one drink. I’ll get you back safely.”
“That was only part of my concern. I’d
be concerned for anyone who has a problem with drinking.”
“I don’t have a problem with drinking,”
he protested defensively. “I drink because I enjoy it, but I don’t need to
drink, mother,” he added the last word sarcastically. “I’m touched by your concern.
Most people are only concerned that I’ll be able to make records and perform at
concerts to keep the dollars rolling in.”
Shari felt an unwanted and unexpected
twinge of compassion for him.
“What shall we have to eat?” She asked,
deliberately changing the subject. She didn’t want to be feeling sorry for him.
She wasn’t sure how to deal with this
Nick Badley. She could handle the sarcastic Nick Badley, the arrogant and
over-indulged Nick Badley and even the depraved Nick Badley, but this one made
her uncomfortable. This one, who unemotionally admitted that he knew he was
nothing more than a purse-liner for many people. He delivered the words with an
emptiness that pricked her conscience and gave her the uneasy feeling that it
wasn’t going to be as easy to pigeon-hole Nick Badley as she had thought.
Nick, totally unaware of the effect his
words had on Shari, studied the menu and then announced: “I’ll have the ten-ounce
steak with twice-baked potatoes.”
Shari looked up surprised. “I don’t
think I’ve seen you eat anything since breakfast in Las Vegas.”
“Oh I eat, all right. But, according to
my mother, not enough. What are you having?”
“The soup of the day sounds good and
I’ll have a spinach salad.”
“Hope you’re not watching your weight.
You look perfectly proportioned to me.” He couldn’t help his eyes being drawn
to her surprisingly full bosom, given how slim she was.
Shari narrowed her eyes at him and said:
“Don’t go there, Mr. Badley. You’ve almost redeemed yourself for your insulting
comments in the limo today so don’t spoil it.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t really sound
repentant. Teasing Shari Goodwin could become fun. Was he teasing? She
definitely was perfectly proportioned to him and as for the mile high club...better
not go there for real.
He gestured to the waitress who appeared
right away to take their order.
“So tell me about yourself, Shari
Goodwin.” So the “Goodwin” was back again.
“I would have thought you’d want to talk
about yourself.”
“We’ll be doing enough of that. I’m
curious to know why someone so young has a bucket list. What are you…twenty-five,
twenty-six?” She nodded and gestured with her hand to indicate that she was
around there.
“Don’t you have a bucket list?”
“I don’t need a bucket list. I’m living
it. Sometimes I wonder what else there is to do and I’m only thirty-two.” He
smiled ruefully.
Most people would love to have your
problem, thought Shari unsympathetically. She would not let Nick Badley’s “poor
me” comments fool her. She had experienced both his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Chapter 7
Nick settled the bill and left a
substantial tip for the waitress who smiled her appreciation. Holding the door
open for Shari, he gestured in the direction of the Riverwalk.
In spite of the brilliant sunshine, it
was a cool day and the number of people sharing the walk
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