Sweet Talk Read Online Free PDF Page B

braggart and very full of himself.”
    “Jorguson knew you worked for the IRS?”
    “Yes. Maybe he thought I was out to get him.”
    “Are you?”
    “No.”
    “Would you tell me if you were?”
    She didn’t answer the question, but said, “Do you think I would have interviewed for a position in his company if I were investigating him?”
    He laughed. “Good point.”
    “Any other questions, Grayson?”
    “No, I think that’s it,” he said. “I have your phone number. If I think of anything else, I’ll call you.” He handed her his card and added, “And if you remember anything pertinent, you call me.”
    “Yes, I will,” she agreed. She laid the bag of ice on the table and stood to leave. With a sigh she said, “Too bad Jorguson couldn’t have waited until after lunch to attack me.”
    “That is a shame,” he said with a smile. He handed the ice back to her. “Let’s eat.”
    She laughed. “I was just kidding. I should go. I’ve got so much to—”
    “Aren’t you hungry? I’m sure you must be, and I am, so let’s eat. You took a hit for the FBI. The least we can do is offer you lunch. If you like seafood, the chowder’s great.”
    “Do you eat here often?”
    “Every once in a while.”
    Olivia was torn. She loved seafood chowder. Really loved it. If the iced tea was twelve dollars a glass, she could only imagine what the chowder cost. She would insist on paying for her own meal, so the question was, did she want to spend a small fortune on lunch? No, she should go home, change her clothes, and eat a peanut butter sandwich. It would be dry because she was out of strawberry jam. Come to think of it, she was out of bread, too. And she really wanted chowder, now that Grayson had mentioned it.
    Nope, she was going to be practical. Money didn’t grow on trees, according to her mother, even though as a child, Olivia never once thought that it did.
    It didn’t take much coaxing to get her to stay, especially after Grayson argued that it would be a professional courtesy.
    Grayson removed his suit jacket, and she couldn’t help but notice how broad his shoulders were and how muscular he was. He was certainly in shape, and she wondered how often he worked out to stay so fit. Dark brown hair and deeply tanned skin, he looked as though he’d just stepped out of an ad in a sports magazine. She also noticed how impeccably dressed he was. His suit was definitely designer label. The cut and fit were perfect. Probably Armani or Prada, she guessed. His shirt was crisp, and his tie had a subdued design in a dark hue. For such a big man, he certainly wore his clothes well.
    By comparison she was a mess. After she gave the waiter her order, she went to the ladies’ room to freshen up and got a good look at herself in the mirror. She had grass in her hair and a gaping tear in the top of her dress. If that weren’t enough, the left side of her jaw was already turning purple. She looked as though she’d been in a barroom brawl.
    There wasn’t much she could do to improve her appearance. She brushed her hair, put on some lip gloss, and tried to stop feeling embarrassed. Why did she care what Grayson thought about her appearance? After today, she probably would never see him again. She already knew he was out of her league. She had very little experience with men, but she had a feeling that Agent Grayson Kincaid was the James Bond of the FBI: a gorgeous man who loved women. Olivia knew she had no business judging him without knowing anything about him. She’d bet a month’s salary she was right, though.
    She returned to the table, and while they waited for their orders, they talked about living in D.C., and he asked her several questions about her work. He seemed genuinely interested. By the end of lunch she was over her bout of nerves and was glad she had stayed. Once she tasted the chowder, she stopped obsessing about the cost. It was worth the price. She sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and asked,