That Touch of Pink by Teresa Southwick Page A

her. “Not really.”
    â€œYou gonna stare at him all night?” Louise asked.
    â€œWho?” Abby blinked at the older woman. “Oh. Riley. You wanted to know why I’m here with him tonight,” she reminded them, amazed that she remembered the question. “I’m here because he asked.”
    As if his ears were burning, Riley glanced in her direction and smiled. It threw Abby off-kilter, as if Mackenzie Andrews had just set off a flash in her face. Or maybe the wine had given her a lovely buzz, but she wouldn’t bet on it. When Riley said something to the other men and walked in her direction, she braced herself.
    â€œHi,” he said, stopping beside her.
    â€œHi. Do you know Roy and Louise Gibson? They own this restaurant,” she said, indicating the older couple and the room around them.
    â€œRiley Dixon.” He shook hands with them. “Nice to meet you.”
    â€œLikewise,” Roy said. “Welcome to the Charity City Chamber of Commerce. I understand you’re real busy with that security business of yours.”
    â€œYes, sir. Right now, I’m working on a system for all the high schools in the district.”
    â€œI heard. Walt Emerson is president of the school board. He comes in to eat a lot. Says they were impressed with the plan and procedures you presented.”
    â€œThat’s good to hear.” Riley smiled at the other man.
    â€œYou know, son, some time soon I’d like to talk to you about updating the security system here in the restaurant.”
    â€œBe happy to discuss it with you, sir.”
    â€œIt’ll have to wait,” Louise said, pointing. “Ella’s trying to get our attention.” She took her husband’s hand.“She’s our hostess. And ten to one, there’s a problem we need to deal with.”
    â€œGo,” Abby said. “Don’t worry about us.”
    â€œNice to meet you, Riley,” Roy said as his wife dragged him off.
    â€œSame here, sir,” he said, then met Abby’s gaze. “Sorry I abandoned you.”
    â€œYou didn’t. It’s called networking. And you were doing a fine job of it.”
    â€œThat I was.”
    She drank the last of the wine in her glass. “How’s it going?”
    â€œReally good.”
    Just then, a flash went off in front of them, blinding Abby. When her vision cleared, she recognized Mackenzie Andrews.
    â€œSorry about the flash.” The pretty brunette nodded with satisfaction. “But in underlit rooms like this, it’s the only way to get a decent shot.”
    â€œThen you must have a whole bunch of decent shots of Jack Wentworth,” Riley said.
    The woman’s gaze strayed to the tall, exceptionally good-looking son of the mayor. Her lip curled distastefully. “I certainly do.”
    â€œMac, what have you got against Jack?” Abby asked.
    â€œLong story. And I’m working.” She shrugged and moved away to snap more pictures and take notes for her article.
    â€œHi, you two.” Des O’Donnell appeared on the other side of her.
    Abby hadn’t actually met him. She recognized him from his photograph posted on the auction Web site.She’d come across it when she’d been looking to buy a guy for her nature guide. Des’s dark blond hair, blue eyes and cocky smile were even better in person. He was a pretty attractive man, and she figured Molly had noticed. Although they’d only become close friends in the last couple of years, Abby knew Molly pretty well. She didn’t think her friend wanted Des for “under wraps,” horizontal hula activities. But she had no clue what Molly planned to do with him. She only knew his company had been awarded the contract for the new wing of the pre-school where Molly worked.
    â€œHi, Des. Abby Walsh,” she said, holding out her hand.
    â€œNice to meet you, Abby.” He shook her hand and nodded to Riley. “I