Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [39]
“You already know what you think,” he said. “Why should I confuse you with fact?”
“What kind of line is that?”
“It’s the truth. And don’t tell me that I wouldn’t know the truth if it bit me.”
She bit her tongue. How did he know that’s what she’d been about to say? Was she that predictable? That boring?
“I’ll have you know that I have a very open mind,” Faith said.
Caine cracked up, almost snorting the Japanese beer he’d ordered.
“What’s so funny?” Her voice was colder than the polar ice pack.
“You are.”
“Wrong answer.” She stood and dumped her sparkling water in his lap. He stopped laughing. She left a twenty on the table for her bill and headed for the nearest exit. Megan scrambled after her.
Caine played it smart by staying at the Sushi Place.
“So,” Megan said cheerfully once they were a block away. “That’s Caine, huh? I can see the attraction.”
Faith stopped in her tracks, causing the pedestrian walking behind her to veer around her to avoid knocking her down. “Attraction? You’re crazy.”
“What do you call that back there then? You clearly have a strong reaction to him.”
“I call it aggravation and anger.”
“Right. And attraction. I’m telling you, I saw more sparks between the two of you in the past ten minutes than I saw with you and Alan in the past year.”
“Sparks cause fires. Fires cause devastation.”
“I thought you were mad, bad and blonde.”
“Mad and bad, sure. Not stupid.”
“I’m just saying I can understand how you’d end up in Caine’s bed.”
Faith looked around. “We are not having this conversation in the middle of the sidewalk. We aren’t having it anywhere. Change of subject.”
“I can’t believe you dumped your drink on him.”
“He made me do it.”
Megan laughed.
“What’s so funny? And remember what I did to the last person who answered that question incorrectly,” Faith warned her.
“That’s what you said when you ate that grasshopper. You said he made you do it.”
“Caine?”
“No, of course not. That kid you had a crush on in kindergarten.”
“Okay. Fine. I still say Caine made me do it, and he deserved it. I don’t like people laughing at me.”
“I know.”
“Being left at the altar that way . . .” Faith shook her head. “I don’t like people laughing or feeling sorry for me.”
“Well, I can tell you this much—Caine definitely doesn’t feel sorry for you. I think he may be crazy about you.”
“He’s crazy, that’s for sure.”
“You’re crazy,” Caine muttered to himself as he returned to his table at the Sushi Place.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the server said, handing him several napkins to mop up.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Faith is a frequent customer here. I’ve never seen her that upset.”
“I seem to have that effect on her.”
“She’s a good person.”
“So people keep telling me. Listen, can I have that sushi to go?”
“I’ll get it ready for you.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Are you going to go after her and apologize?”
“No.” I’m going to go refocus my attention on what’s really important: clearing my father’s name.
Caine had plenty of time to brood as he carried his takeout to a bench along the Chicago River. He needed the fresh air to clear his head.
What was he doing following Faith around like a doting dog? She wouldn’t lead him to the real perpetrator of his father’s downfall. At least he didn’t think so. He wasn’t following her because of the case. He was trailing her because he wanted to see her.
A stupid move for a man who prided himself on his street smarts.
“Is this seat taken?” a stranger asked, pointing to the empty space beside Caine on the bench before seeing Caine’s fierce frown. “Uh, never mind.” The man and his date hurried away.
Wise move. Caine wasn’t good company at the moment. He rubbed the back of his neck where the tension was building. A stiff breeze off the lake ruffled his hair as he sat there watching the boat traffic going up and down the Chicago River—from sleek sailboats and motorized powerboats to sightseeing vessels filled with tourists admiring the view. Looking south, he could see the shiny Swissôtel on the other side of the river. Beyond that was Millennium Park