Mad, Bad and Blonde by Cathie Linz

she’s smart enough to know the answer would be no,” Caine replied on the assistant’s behalf. “And some black coffee would be great, thanks.”
    “Do you have any chai tea?” Faith said even though the assistant, whose name Faith had yet to discover, hadn’t asked her if she wanted anything. “And I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
    “Linda Dennis. And no, I don’t believe we have any chai tea.”
    “That’s okay,” Faith said. “I’m fine.”
    The look Linda gave Faith indicated that the assistant doubted that. “I’ll get your coffee, Caine. I won’t be long.”
    Caine sat in one of the elegantly upholstered chairs and made himself right at home. Faith sat next to him, to once again prove that she wasn’t intimidated or turned on by him.
    “Flat tire. Bad timing,” Caine said.
    “Bad luck,” Faith said.
    “You’d know all about luck,” he said.
    “I certainly know about bad luck. I’ve had a run of that lately.”
    “Bad luck or bad judgment?”
    “You’re right for once. My bad luck was caused by my bad judgment. But I’m fixing that. I definitely learn by my mistakes, and I do not repeat them.”
    “Good to know.”
    Could he tell that she was saying that going to bed with him was a mistake? Did he even care?
    “Here’s your coffee, Caine. And I just spoke to Mr. Kneeson. He should be here in a few minutes.”
    “Thanks,” Caine said.
    “Yes, thank you, Linda.” Faith smiled at her. Linda didn’t smile back.
    Caine calmly sipped his coffee while Faith kept checking her BlackBerry, reviewing the talking points while making sure Caine couldn’t see the screen.
    With every minute she became more and more tense while Caine seemed to become calmer and calmer.
    “Hi, I’m Chuck Kneeson. I’m so sorry for this mix-up and delay.” He gave both Caine and Faith a strong handshake. “Let me take you out to lunch to make it up to you. Both of you.”
    “No, that’s not necessary,” Faith said.
    “Sounds like a great plan to me,” Caine said.
    Great. She couldn’t very well leave him alone to have lunch with the client. Now she was stuck with him. Caine, not the client.
    “I understand if it’s too much for you, Faith,” Caine said as if she couldn’t cope with him or the client, she wasn’t exactly sure.
    “Lunch sounds good,” Faith said.
    “And King Investigations will pay,” Caine said.
    “No, West Investigations will pay,” Faith insisted.
    “How does the Palmer House sound to you? I’ve got a seminar to give there at the hotel later this afternoon.”
    “Sounds great,” Faith said. Just peachy.
    They walked the several blocks to one of Chicago’s iconic locations. Once inside the impressive Beaux Arts- style hotel lobby, Faith blushed when Caine caught her gawking like a tourist at the painted ceiling murals depicting Greek mythology.
    “I haven’t been here since the big renovation,” she explained. “Did you know the Palmer House is the oldest continuously operated hotel in the country? And legend has it that the brownie was invented by the chef here when Bertha Palmer, the wife of the original owner, wanted a dessert for ladies to easily eat at Chicago’s 1893 Columbian Exposition. Bertha was a very smart woman. She traveled to Europe and came back with the newest paintings by those rowdy Impressionists. She bought over two dozen Monet paintings and nearly a dozen by Renoir. After her death, her art collection was donated to the Chicago Art Insitute, and the paintings became the basis for their Impressionist collection, which is now one of the best in the world. Oh yeah, Bertha was really something. Her husband built this hotel for her as a wedding present, but it burned down almost two weeks later in the Chicago Fire in 1871. So he built it again. And then the hotel was enlarged in the twenties. So this place has a lot of history.”
    Damn. Her inner librarian was showing—the one who beat the rest of the staff at Trivial Pursuit and had