Fourteen
I left the real estate office and walked down to the Timbers and went inside. It was almost noon. When my eyes adjusted, I looked around. Christopher Darby was sitting in one of the booths. He stood when he saw me. I walked over to him.
“Hi, Chris,” I said.
“Hello, Katie,” he said. “I’m so glad Nate called and told me you were willing to meet.”
We shook hands, and then we slid into opposite sides of the booth.
“You want a beer?” he asked.
“Sure,” I answered.
He caught the bartender’s eye and said, “Two beers on tap. Whatever.”
I smiled. He did that easy. Didn’t shout. Didn’t make a spectacle of himself. But he got what he wanted. Quickly.
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring up a difficult time in your life. Since my father was involved
