do, run all the way?"
"He probably stowed away in the car. I forgot to check the back before we left, and the windows were down."
"What's he saying to me?"
"That it's hot out in the car. And he's thirsty."
Lifting an eyebrow at her, Gideon said, "That's just common sense; you don't really understand him."
Maggie sipped her tomato juice placidly.
"Look, cat," he began, shifting his gaze to the animal, then broke off as their waitress approached stiffly.
"Sir, unless that is a Seeing Eye dog, it isn't allowed in here," she announced.
Gideon silently debated, but didn't think he could get away with the fiction. Leo wasn't wearing a harness.
Leo swiveled his head around to stare at her, and she stepped back, disconcerted. The bored young man at the piano hadn't missed a beat even when the cat had soared over his baby grand. The other patrons were ruthlessly minding their own business.
"It's hot outside," Gideon said, going with the flow. "And he's thirsty."
"The manager says—"
"I’ll speak to the manager." Gideon pushed the cat's paws off his thigh and rose. "You will excuse me?" he said to Maggie in a wry tone.
"Certainly."
"Thank you. Leo, get in the chair." To his surprise, the cat instantly hopped into his vacated chair and sat down. Gideon stared at him for an instant, then added sternly, "And keep your nose out of my glass."
Leo assumed a saintly expression.
Judging the worth of that, Gideon made a rude noise under his breath and followed the retreating waitress.
Maggie was left laughing softly to herself and thinking that any man who could hold his own with a scene-stealer like Leo was an unusual man indeed.
The manager had arguments ranging from the feelings of other patrons to the requirements of the health inspector, but a small bribe and the promise that Leo would not enter the restaurant won his grudging acceptance. He even offered a bowl of milk—though it cost as much as a double scotch.
Gideon carried the bowl back to the table since the waitress had taken one look and sneered. He couldn't decide whether to leave her an extra large tip to show he was above such trite emotions as revenge, or leave no tip at all to teach her a needed lesson in manners. He was still silently debating the question when he reached the table. He snagged an extra chair from a nearby table and placed it at their own, correctly deciding that Leo's feelings would be hurt if he couldn't sit up at the table with his expensive drink like people.
"Here, you misbegotten animal," he said, removing his glass from in front of Leo and replacing it with the bowl. Then he placed the new chair closer to Maggie's and sat down himself as the cat began to drink thirstily.
"He's in grace?" she asked.
"Until we go into the restaurant. Then he's going back to the car. Or maybe the trunk. He didn't stick his nose in my glass, did he?"
"He was a perfect gentleman."
Gideon sighed. "I have a feeling we differ on our definitions of that, but never mind."
"It was nice of you to bribe the manager. Leo appreciates it. And so do I ."
"My good deed for the day. Do you think hell insist on dancing with us?"
"He's tone-deaf."
After looking at her for a minute, Gideon rubbed a vague ache between his eyes with his thumb, murmuring, "You know, for a while there—a brief while—you hardly said anything absurd at all. Well, I mean, it was all absurd, but it made a crazy kind of sense. Except for that stuff about a murderer's hiding out in the carnival and slinking around guarding his secreted treasure. That was absurd, but you made it sound so reasonable that I actually thought it made sense."
Maggie reached over to pat his hand where it rested on the table. "I think you're losing it."
Still staring at her, he caught her hand between both his and said in the same lucid tone,
"You remember what I said about a hundred years ago? The part about my being a patient man, and being willing to wait until I got all my questions answered?"
"It
"He probably stowed away in the car. I forgot to check the back before we left, and the windows were down."
"What's he saying to me?"
"That it's hot out in the car. And he's thirsty."
Lifting an eyebrow at her, Gideon said, "That's just common sense; you don't really understand him."
Maggie sipped her tomato juice placidly.
"Look, cat," he began, shifting his gaze to the animal, then broke off as their waitress approached stiffly.
"Sir, unless that is a Seeing Eye dog, it isn't allowed in here," she announced.
Gideon silently debated, but didn't think he could get away with the fiction. Leo wasn't wearing a harness.
Leo swiveled his head around to stare at her, and she stepped back, disconcerted. The bored young man at the piano hadn't missed a beat even when the cat had soared over his baby grand. The other patrons were ruthlessly minding their own business.
"It's hot outside," Gideon said, going with the flow. "And he's thirsty."
"The manager says—"
"I’ll speak to the manager." Gideon pushed the cat's paws off his thigh and rose. "You will excuse me?" he said to Maggie in a wry tone.
"Certainly."
"Thank you. Leo, get in the chair." To his surprise, the cat instantly hopped into his vacated chair and sat down. Gideon stared at him for an instant, then added sternly, "And keep your nose out of my glass."
Leo assumed a saintly expression.
Judging the worth of that, Gideon made a rude noise under his breath and followed the retreating waitress.
Maggie was left laughing softly to herself and thinking that any man who could hold his own with a scene-stealer like Leo was an unusual man indeed.
The manager had arguments ranging from the feelings of other patrons to the requirements of the health inspector, but a small bribe and the promise that Leo would not enter the restaurant won his grudging acceptance. He even offered a bowl of milk—though it cost as much as a double scotch.
Gideon carried the bowl back to the table since the waitress had taken one look and sneered. He couldn't decide whether to leave her an extra large tip to show he was above such trite emotions as revenge, or leave no tip at all to teach her a needed lesson in manners. He was still silently debating the question when he reached the table. He snagged an extra chair from a nearby table and placed it at their own, correctly deciding that Leo's feelings would be hurt if he couldn't sit up at the table with his expensive drink like people.
"Here, you misbegotten animal," he said, removing his glass from in front of Leo and replacing it with the bowl. Then he placed the new chair closer to Maggie's and sat down himself as the cat began to drink thirstily.
"He's in grace?" she asked.
"Until we go into the restaurant. Then he's going back to the car. Or maybe the trunk. He didn't stick his nose in my glass, did he?"
"He was a perfect gentleman."
Gideon sighed. "I have a feeling we differ on our definitions of that, but never mind."
"It was nice of you to bribe the manager. Leo appreciates it. And so do I ."
"My good deed for the day. Do you think hell insist on dancing with us?"
"He's tone-deaf."
After looking at her for a minute, Gideon rubbed a vague ache between his eyes with his thumb, murmuring, "You know, for a while there—a brief while—you hardly said anything absurd at all. Well, I mean, it was all absurd, but it made a crazy kind of sense. Except for that stuff about a murderer's hiding out in the carnival and slinking around guarding his secreted treasure. That was absurd, but you made it sound so reasonable that I actually thought it made sense."
Maggie reached over to pat his hand where it rested on the table. "I think you're losing it."
Still staring at her, he caught her hand between both his and said in the same lucid tone,
"You remember what I said about a hundred years ago? The part about my being a patient man, and being willing to wait until I got all my questions answered?"
"It
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