No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) by Julie Moffett Page B

voice.
    “That would be me,” I answered. “Finn Shaughnessy, I presume.”
    He smiled and sat, shrugging out of his jacket. I don’t know how guys managed to wear a tie and a jacket during the sweltering hot summers of Washington, D.C., but they did. After all, this was the city of image. Forty lashes to the lawyer who would dare violate the dress code, although Finn didn’t look hot and bothered at all. Just crisp, cool and pretty darn attractive.
    He leaned back in his chair and studied me. “You’re as pretty as Basia said.”
    “No way did she say that.”
    He chuckled. “Well, she definitely implied it.”
    “You’re just being polite.”
    “Actually, I’m not. You do look lovely tonight in red.”
    I suddenly felt uncomfortable and wondered why he had brought up the fact that my dress was red. Maybe I looked too much like a hooker.
    “I’m wearing a new outfit,” I admitted. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
    “No, it looks great,” he said, signaling to the waitress who was instantly at his side. “Really.”
    “Hey, Finn,” the waitress said, smiling at him. “The usual?”
    “Thanks, Lucy,” he said and she left without writing anything down.
    “Come here often?” I asked.
    “Lots of business lunches,” he said, patting his stomach as if he carried too much weight. Which of course wasn’t anything near the truth. From what I could see, he had a flat stomach and a great body beneath that crisp white shirt and dark blue pants.
    “Thanks for coming,” I said. “I thought you might be able to help me out.”
    “I’m hoping for the same thing from you,” he said.
    He leaned forward on the table and I noticed he had nice eyes. A deep green, the color of a freshly mown lawn in summer. They contrasted perfectly with his golden brown hair and eyebrows. He didn’t wear a wedding band, not that I noticed on purpose. Well, okay maybe I noticed on purpose, it just didn’t mean anything. After all, he could be allergic to gold.
    “So, where do we start?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Why don’t you tell me about your problem with Basia,” he suggested.
    I shook my head. “Actually it might be helpful if you could explain in a little more depth your connection with Basia.”
    I noticed I was tapping my foot a lot more vigorously than the Irish jig music merited and realized I was nervous, though I wasn’t sure whether it was due to an instinctive feeling that he might have some clue to Basia’s whereabouts that might put an end to my current nightmare or because I felt a weird pull of attraction to this guy just nanoseconds after meeting him. It wasn’t typical for me to be instantly attracted to a guy. I fought down the panic. Change is good, I reminded myself. Relax and enjoy the attraction.
    Before Finn could say anything, Lucy returned with a dark ale. She set it on the table in front of Finn and then leaned forward so he could see down the front of her blouse. I liked the fact that he kept his gaze averted, and then politely thanked her.
    After she left, Finn said, “Okay, I guess I can talk about how I met Basia.” He took a sip of his ale and regarded me over his glass. “I initially met her through another company lawyer. She’d been doing freelance translation for CGM for a few years, I guess. We have a lot of foreign clients who require documents translated into a number of different languages.”
    “Tell me about your company.”
    “CGM, Inc. is a large international medical and biotechnology research facility. We have clinics, laboratories and research centers across the U.S. and abroad.”
    “I thought you said you’re a lawyer.”
    “I am. Corporate law. I’m just one of about twenty lawyers employed by the company.”
    “That’s a lot of lawyers for one company.”
    He laughed. “Actually it’s quite small for an international company the size of CGM.”
    “So how long have you been working with Basia?”
    “Our company has been working on and off