Chapter Three

Stroud didn’t know how close he came to missing Ever that Friday night. Traffic was heavier than he’d anticipated and, although he wasn’t late, he did not make the rendezvous as early as he’d intended.

Ever was there at five past seven and by seven twenty she was ready to bolt – despite her anticipation; despite hours of concentrated preparation, shampoo, manicure, even a dash of perfume; four changes of mind regarding wardrobe and transportation to the restaurant.

In the end, she decided to walk. She was too anxious to wait around for a cab that might come late, and a cab would get her there too quickly, too suddenly... It was starting to rain, but she walked six blocks through the dark streets at a clip most men would be hard pressed to match, keyed up and nervous as a cat.

Now she was set to bolt, despite the commitment she had made to meet Stroud. Her tab was paid on a stiff Jamaica rum and Coke Classic, her coat was on, she was reaching for her purse…

“Hello. Not late, I hope.”

Ever glanced up and there he was.

“No,” she breathed. “I believe you’re early.”

He had a rose for her. A single white rose. Ever accepted it with shy thanks.

“Since we’re already in a restaurant, we might as well be seated, don’t you think? It’ll be more comfortable,” Stroud suggested with a glance at the crowded bar, “and more private.”

Ever was too flustered to do more than whisper in agreement. She slid off the barstool as Stroud took her arm and escorted her up two steps into the dining area. Ever found the polished brass and wood appointments of the restaurant attractive, but she wondered if it was the kind of atmosphere that would appeal to Stroud.

The hostess led them to a horseshoe shaped booth upholstered in dark burgundy vinyl by the window. Ever declined Stroud’s offer to take her coat and assumed her seat as he removed his own topcoat and hung it on a brass hook in the post on the aisle. He slid into the seat across from her and the hostess lingered