“The pleasure was mine.”
They walked to the front door, and Lattimer stepped outside. “You thank that pretty lady for the wonderful food.”
“I will.”
Lattimer extended his hand. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and the missus come on over to my place on Saturday night? My secretary will call you with the details. If you find your phones, that is.”
Gray shook his head. “Shelby—”
The big man’s cell phone rang, and Lattimer whipped it off his belt like a six-shooter. “Lattimer.”
Gray waited for him to get off the phone. But from the look on Lattimer’s face, he got the feeling it would be a while. Then Jim waved and pointed to his phone. He was leaving—before Gray had a chance to tell him that Shelby wasn’t the missus.
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