Shadowlight by Lynn Viehl Page B

offer the traditional business handshake. She’d removed the gloves she always wore whenever she was out in public before arriving—September was cool, but not enough to justify wearing leather gloves throughout a meal.
    Avoiding his touch was a business necessity. In the past she had considered using her ability on potential clients as well as the people they hired her to investigate, but she felt she had to draw the line somewhere. If she looked into the dark side of every soul, she knew someday she’d end up thinking about visiting the roof of the Bank of America building herself.
    As she sat down, she saw he’d nearly finished a cocktail, and wondered if her watch battery had run down. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
    “Not at all. My previous meeting was canceled at the last minute, so I got here a little earlier than I expected.” He motioned to a waiter, who trotted over to offer her a menu card. After he placed his order for one of the steak entrées, he turned to her. “What are you drinking?”
    Jessa needed a clear head. “Water, please.”
    “They have an excellent cellar here, and as it happens, one of my favorite chardonnays,” Lawson mentioned. “I think you’ll enjoy it.” He told the waiter to bring a bottle.
    Jessa wasn’t accustomed to being overruled, even as smoothly as Lawson had done it, but she’d met enough corporate alpha males to recognize a deliberate show of gender dominance. Lawson might want women to admire his body, but he liked ordering them around better.
    “Just a small glass for me,” she told the waiter, surprised to see his strained expression. Her gaze shifted to the rings of underarm sweat darkening his otherwise crisp white shirt. “I’ll also have the shrimp St. Jacques with the endive salad and the lemon-caper vinaigrette.”
    “Very good, ma’am.” The waiter hurried off.
    “I hope he’s not contagious,” Lawson observed, watching the man disappear through the swinging doors to the kitchen before turning back to Jessa. “I’m sorry. The service here is usually flawless.”
    She smiled. “Everyone has a bad day at work now and then.”
    “Not at GenHance. Jonah Genaro, our CEO, is very particular about whom we hire. He wants only the top people in their fields.” He sat back. “Now let’s talk about how Phoenix, Inc., can see to it that he actually gets them.”
    Matthias watched the dashboard clock as he drove through the streets around the French restaurant. At one fourteen, he took his pack, stowed it under his seat, and then turned the corner and moved into the right lane. He accelerated enough so that when he pulled in past the frowning valet and stopped, the car’s tires squealed. He left the engine running as he shoved open the driver’s-side door and got out, locking the door with his spare key’s remote.
    “Sir.” The valet trotted over to him. “I’m sorry, but you can’t park here.”
    “My employer came here to propose to his lady friend. I was to take the pictures, but traffic delayed me. If I do not go in right away, I will be fired.” He handed over his business card. “It will take two minutes, I swear to you, and then I will go.”
    Thunder rumbled overhead, and dark clouds spread rapidly over them, casting heavy shadows as they blocked out the sun.
    The younger man glanced up and scowled. “It was supposed to be sunny all day.” He barely looked at Matthias’s card before he handed it back to him. “I guess you can leave it there for a minute. Get back out here fast, though, buddy, or my boss’ll call to have it towed.”
    “Thank you.” Matthias strode into the restaurant.
    He had decided to modify Drew’s suggestion of the snatch-and-grab to something that would cause no disturbance. Rather than playing the part of a frantic husband coming to the aid of an injured wife, he was now a tardy photographer trying to keep his job. As soon as he saw the well-dressed man in the foyer, he took out another