The Waiting Game Read Online Free PDF

weather," Sara agreed politely as she was seated. Privately she thought that no one in San Diego would have even bothered to comment on it. "By the way, I’m waiting for someone." Something made her glance back toward the doorway. "Oh, there he is now. Would you show him to my table?"
    The gray-haired, middle-aged hostess chuckled. "Sure." She waved energetically at the man who stood in the doorway surveying the room. "Hey, Adrian. Over here."
    Not just Adrian but everyone else in the room looked around. Sara experienced an acute twinge of embarrassment. She should have guessed that in a small community like this everyone knew one
    another. Determinedly she smiled as Saville walked toward her.
    Striving for a casual pose of polite welcome, Sara was astonished to realize that she was actually mildly fascinated with Adrian’s approach. His stride was a deceptively easy, flowing movement that covered the distance between the doorway and her table very quickly. He had a coordinated, masculine grace that went beyond the kind of athletic motion her male friends developed by running or working out.
    Sara had a feeling Adrian’s physical control and smoothness had probably been born in him, the way a cat’s coordination was.
    The pelt of dark hair that he obviously kept disciplined with a scissor was still damp from his shower and combed severely into place. He wore jeans and a cream-colored button-down shirt. On his feet were the usual sneakers, Sara noted in amusement. The shoes made his progress across the coffee shop quite soundless. If Sara hadn’t been watching him, she would never have heard him approach the table.
    Just as she had never heard him come down the hall to the study last night, she reflected as he greeted the hostess.
    "Good morning, Angie. How’s it going today? Looks like a full house this morning."
    The hostess nodded, pleased. "Give these Northwest folks a little sunny weather and they crawl out of the woodwork in droves. We’ve been doing real good this past week. Real good. Have a seat with your lady friend here and I’ll send Liz on over for your order." Beaming impartially down at Sara and Adrian, the hostess bustled off to find the waitress.
    "Lady friend!" Sara winced. "I’ve always heard that in small towns people pay a lot of attention to what their neighbors are doing but I hadn’t realized they were so quick to jump to conclusions! Better be careful, Adrian. When everyone finds out you’ve gone off to the mountains with me for the day, you’ll be a compromised man."
    "I can live with it." He appeared unconcerned, turning his head to greet the teenage waitress as she hurried over to the table.
    "Morning, Adrian. Coffee for both of you?" Liz began filling Adrian’s cup without waiting for confirmation and then glanced inquiringly at Sara.
    "Please." Sara smiled.
    "Ready to order?" Briskly Liz whipped out her pad.
    "Try the scones," Adrian suggested before Sara could speak.
    "Scones?"
    "Ummm. Homemade. They’re great," he assured her.
    "Well, I usually just have a croissant and coffee," Sara began uncertainly.
    "You’re leaving that yuppie life-style behind, remember?"
    Adrian pointed out seriously.
    Sara felt a wave of humor. "All right. An order of scones and a poached egg," she said to the waitress.
    "Got it," Liz responded. She glanced at Adrian. "The usual for you? The number-three breakfast without the bacon?"
    "Fine, Liz."
    Liz giggled and hurried off toward the kitchen.
    Sara stirred cream into her coffee and slanted a glance at Adrian. "Okay, I give up. Why the giggle over your order of a number-three breakfast?"
    Adrian’s mouth twisted wryly. "Because a number three without bacon is really a number one. The first time I ate here I didn’t notice the difference on the menu and just told Liz I wanted the number three minus the bacon. For some reason she’s made it into a standing joke between us."
    "I see. You don’t like bacon?"
    "I don’t eat meat," he explained