CHAPTER 19
Charley and Morgan sat in the hotel restaurant. Charley set her coffee cup on its saucer. Tracing the rim of the cup, she looked across the table at Morgan. “Are we heading out when you’re done eating?”
“We will.”
She waved her hand at him. “Well, eat then.”
“Not if you’re going to rush me.”
She slumped back in her chair. “Sweet blades of grass.”
Morgan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your hurry?”
Charley frowned. “I’m not in a hurry. I just don’t want to sit here.”
Morgan leaned forward. “You could’ve ordered something to eat.”
“I wasn’t hung—”
“Morgan? Morgan Ramsey?” A woman’s voice cut through the quiet room.
Charley turned. A brunette in a black dress, with white lace spilling from its neck, floated toward their table. Morgan turned as we
