Spring River Valley: The Spring Collection (Boxed Set) by Clarice Wynter Page B

for any kind of food that comes in a big cardboard vat.”
    Evie managed to laugh. She’d pushed thoughts of Tanner so far out of her mind that her life was actually starting to go back to normal. That didn’t necessarily mean her heart would ever heal, but at least on the outside she could pull off the illusion of being okay. “Vat of shrimp it is.”
    She hung up with Emerson and approached the maître d’. The man had the audacity to scan her from head to foot with a disapproving eye. Jeans, work boots, and a brown leather jacket weren’t exactly proper attire for a lady at an upscale place like Landry’s, but she’d just come from interviewing an engineer down by the Harbor Bridge, and until she’d received Bailey’s texts, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere near a sophisticated restaurant after work. She held up a hand to stave off his protest. “I’m not here for a reservation. I’m actually here to cancel one. You should have something under Cole, for two at seven thirty.”
    The man angled his jaundiced gaze at the reservation book. “Yes, the gentleman is already here. He’s waiting in the bar. Shall I ask him to come to the lobby?”
    Evie glanced at her thick boots. “Nah, I’ll just go in and find him myself.” She grinned and pivoted herself toward the dark recesses of the restaurant’s bar. Halfway inside the dim interior she realized Bailey hadn’t texted her the name of the man she’d won at the auction.
    She certainly didn’t want to go back to the lobby and ask the snooty ma ître d’ for help, so she headed for the bar. To his credit, the bartender, also in a white jacket, didn’t so much as flutter an eyelash at her outfit. “What can I get you, miss?” he asked.
    “I’m looking for someone who’s here to meet Ms. Cole. Reservations for seven thirty.”
    “Yeah, he’s over there.” The bartender pointed a small bistro table in the corner. A dark-haired man sat with his back to Evie.
    “Thanks.” She strode toward the table and had made it halfway there when déjà vu struck. She remembered walking across Tanner’s apartment the morning she’d left. He’d been sitting at his kitchen table in the same position as he sat now.
    Her pace slowed. The tilt of his head and the set of his broad shoulders was the same, but this time there was no tension in his muscles. He looked completely relaxed in a navy suit jacket, a glass of what looked like lemon soda with a twist of lime sitting on the table before him.
    He was obviously ready for his date, and she wondered if he knew Bailey was the one who’d won him.
    In a split second a thousand scenarios went through her mind. He certainly didn’t want to see her. Did she want to see him? Did she want to apologize, or was it too late to try to salvage any of their relationship? She still worked for the paper, and she planned to keep her job now that she covered city hall. She considered turning around and tiptoeing away, leaving a message with the bartender.
    Wait a second. Bailey had to have known—
    “I can feel you watching me.” He spoke without turning around.
    “ I suppose you’re in on this too?” She didn’t move either and kept her gaze fixed on the floor. Her heart pounded. How many times had she imagined meeting up with Tanner? When he rose and turned around, her breath hitched.
    “Not at first. It was Bailey’s idea. She bid on me and she won , and then she set this up.”
    “So she’s not really sick.” It wasn’t a question.
    “No. She’s also not a good liar, that’s why she texted you instead of calling.”
    Evie’s palms were sweaty now , and her heart was in her throat. She jammed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and tried a nonchalant pose. “I’m not a good liar either, you know.”
    “I know.” He bowed his head.
    “How do you know?” She crossed her arms over her chest, challenging him. She wanted to be angry, but she was still so sorry for what she’d done.
    “Because you said