Free Let's Play Dead by Sheila Connolly Page A

left after trying to keep a financially challenged institution afloat, with no training or preparation for the job. I would definitely consider it. After all, I’d said yes to the president’s job with equally little notice. Why not to dating an FBI agent? “I’m happy to have dinner with you. And right now I could use a glass of wine and some food, if you don’t mind.”
    “I think I can handle that.” He made an almost imperceptible gesture and a waiter appeared with oversize menus, which he presented with a flourish.
    “Chardonnay?” James asked.
    “Yes, please.” He’d remembered—a point for him.
    While we studied the menu, I checked my inner thermostat. I hadn’t had the time or the energy to play games for the last couple of months, what with everything that had fallen on my head, but I wasn’t about to pass up an invitation from an attractive man—I could make time for James.
    We ordered, and once the waiter had left, I realized how out of practice I was at this dating thing. “If this is a social occasion, is this the point where we’re supposed to exchange life histories? Oh, wait—you probably have an extensive dossier on me. Right?”
    He smiled. “You’d have to file a formal request in writing to find that out. Why don’t we just start back at the beginning?”
    I laughed. “Okay, I’ll go first. I’m single, gainfully employed, and have no criminal records or vices that could result in same at some unspecified future date. No secret children. No history of insanity in the family. Are we good so far?”
    He nodded, clearly amused. I pressed on. “I have a job I think I like—although check back with me in another couple of months on that. I own my own home, I have a middle-aged car, and no debt beyond my mortgage. And I still have all my own teeth and my vital organs.”
    James grinned. “Ditto, except I own a condo in University City.”
    “Nice short commute,” I said, sipping my water. “Any siblings?”
    “Two. One brother, one sister. Neither lives nearby.”
    “I’ve got one brother who works in Texas, for reasons that mystify me. You weren’t born in Texas, were you?”
    “No.”
    “Then I’ll feel free to say disparaging things about the place.”
    “Go right ahead,” he said, then asked, his tone neutral, “You were married once, weren’t you?”
    “Yes, a long time ago. It didn’t work out, but we parted on good terms. You?”
    “Never got that far.”
    I bit back a snappy response. He was a good catch, so why was he unattached at his age? Did his job turn women off, or just leave him with too little time to deal with outside relationships? These were questions I didn’t think I had any right to ask—at least, not on a first date. Maybe a second date, if there was one.
    Our drinks appeared, followed in short order by our appetizers. That effectively ended Speed Dating, Round One. The food lived up to the media hype it had received, and I was happy to see that James gave it the attention it deserved. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved with someone who didn’t appreciate the subtleties of fine cuisine—one of my guilty pleasures, when I could afford it.
    “How are things going at the Society?” he asked.
    “Well, nothing’s disappeared lately, which is good. I’m trying to fill in staff to replace the people we lost. I may have managed to fill my old position. After the recent press we’ve gotten, I’m not in any hurry to start asking people for money again.”
    “Memories are short. As soon as the next big scandal comes along, people will forget about the Society’s problems,” James said.
    I wasn’t sure I agreed with him. After all, we were in the business of preserving history—and memories. It would be a big plus if we could recover some or all of the lost artifacts, but I had little control over that. James, however, did. “Do you think we’ll get anything back?”
    He looked down at the table and lined up the remaining silverware.