“Are you?”
“What?”
“Really surprised?”
“Yes. Really.” She turned her back to a couple strolling by on the sidewalk. When a teenage boy riding a skateboard slowed down near her to stare, she glared at him. “What?”
“I beg your pardon?” Cody asked uncertainly.
“No, not you. It was this kid—”
“This is a bad time.”
“No, I mean—is there anything in particular you wanted?” That came out totally wrong. She should’ve sent him a thank-you note for the bracelet. She’d even made several attempts. But in the end, cowardice won over manners.
After a long pause, he said, “How about I call you back later?”
“No, it’s okay. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for the bracelet.” The breathless words were barely out of her mouth when she heard the salon door open and turned to see Chloe frowning at her.
“You realize you can exchange it if you don’t like it.”
She gave Chloe her back and lowered her voice. “Oh, no, I love it. I’m wearing it right now, in fact.”
“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Look, the reason I called is to ask if you’d have dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” Was he kidding? “When?”
“Tonight.”
“But—” In the background, she heard a woman’s voice announcing that a flight to Acapulco had been delayed. “Where are you?”
“Here. Atlanta.”
She nearly dropped the phone.
“What’s going on?” Chloe got in her face.
Sara fiercely waved her away while putting distance between them. “Are you at the airport?”
“I just arrived.”
She swallowed. He hadn’t wasted any time calling her. Should she be flattered, or scared out of her mind?
Scared won.
The truth wasn’t her friend at the moment. She wasn’t who Cody thought she was, and she wanted it left that way. She cleared her throat, then asked, “Here on business?”
“Yes, for the week.”
That wasn’t the answer she’d expected. When she’d worked for the firm, Cody never traveled. He’d always sent an underling. “Must be a big client.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “About tonight?”
Cody. Here in Atlanta. It didn’t seem real. “All right,” she said slowly, trying to remember if she was supposed to be somewhere tonight. But she couldn’t think straight. Not that it mattered. How could she not see him? “Where are you staying?”
“The Ritz-Carlton on Peachtree. Would you like to meet there?”
“No.” She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally kicking herself for her abruptness. But she couldn’t get through the lobby without a dozen people recognizing her. “I thought maybe you’d like to experience a little local color.”
“Sure. Name the place.”
Oh, God. “Could you hold for just a moment, please?” Without waiting for his answer, she turned to get Chloe. She was at the door of the salon about to go inside. Sara frantically motioned her back, and then met her halfway, holding the phone behind her back. “I need a name and address of a restaurant.”
Chloe narrowed her gaze. “Is this a joke?”
“Chloe, please.”
She gave Sara a curious look, and then said, “Cafе Tu Tu Tango in Buckhead.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right back in.” She waited, keeping the phone right where it was so he couldn’t hear.
Chloe gave her another questioning look and then went into the salon.
Sara brought the phone back up to her ear as the name Chloe had given her registered. Chloe wouldn’t send her to someplace too weird, would she?
Ignoring the older woman with the ridiculously permed hair and disapproving look who climbed into the rear seat of a limo, Sara turned her attention back to Cody. “How about we meet at Cafе Tu Tu Tango in Buckhead? Any taxi driver will know where it is.” Not that she did. Of course, she’d been to the Buckhead district many times, but not that restaurant.
“Fine. What time?”
She glanced at her watch. God, she was insane for doing this. “Seven-thirty?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay, me, too.” She cringed at her lameness.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you, Sara,” he said, his voice so low and husky her mouth went dry. Then he disconnected the call, leaving her weak-kneed and questioning the prudence of showing up tonight.
Of course she would. She had better manners than to stand anyone up. Oh, God. Where was Shelby when she needed her? Sara took a deep breath and headed back into the salon to face the stares and exchanged looks as she passed through the lobby. She ignored them all as she nonchalantly lowered herself back into Chloe’s chair.
Chloe didn’t miss a beat. She draped the cape Sara had discarded, then picked up the bowl of color solution. After glancing around, Chloe leaned close to Sara’s ear. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
Sara disregarded the sarcasm. This wasn’t something she’d discuss with Chloe, especially since the woman’s answer for everything was to go for it. Besides, Chloe didn’t understand what it meant to be rich. She was like so many other people who thought money solved every problem. How could you be unhappy if you could buy anything you wanted?
Fortunately, they hadn’t been defined by a trust fund, like Sara and her sister. As soon as a man heard Sara’s last name, it was over. There was no way to tell if it was her he wanted. Or the money. Or the publicity. Those people who thought she had it so good hadn’t had expectations so huge they thought they would choke on them. One mistake and the local press was all over them, almost as if they’d been waiting for one of the Wellingtons to fall from grace. There was no privacy. Not in Atlanta, anyway.