What Are Friends For?

As the door closed behind them, he walked across to the hardwood table near the wall of windows overlooking Seattle’s waterfront. The coffee carafe was almost full and he poured two cups of the special blend he had Starbucks make up for him. He handed one to Liv. “Cheers.”

“More to the point, congratulations.”

“For?”

Liv’s mouth curved up in a gentle smile. “For finally getting rid of wife number two. It must feel nice, not having that hanging over you anymore.”

“Nice isn’t the word I would have chosen,” Conn said quietly. He still hadn’t entirely gotten used to the idea. He thought of Judith now deliberately, testing the memory for pain. Found only a weary sadness. “How did you find out? Don’t tell me the press has hold of it already.”

“A friend told a friend who told a friend who called me last night. I was going to drop by, but I had a dinner meeting that ran past midnight.”

Conn thought of the bottle of Scotch still sitting on his kitchen counter. “Probably a good thing you didn’t. I would have made lousy company.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could have come up with an idea or two guaranteed to raise your spirits. And who knows what else....” She grinned salaciously. “Come on, Connor, lighten up! You look like the hero in a Gothic novel, all scowl and thunder.”

He managed a rough smile. “It’s probably just the hangover.”

“Ahh.” She gave a knowing smile. “I see. It was that way, was it?”

He grunted something vaguely affirmative and walked across the room to drop into one of the big armchairs by the window. He usually enjoyed sparring with Olivia, but he was tired today. The kind of tired that went bone-deep and made him feel as if he’d never shake free of it. “So, what can I do for you, Liv?”

“God, so formal.” She kicked off her high heels and padded across to drop gracefully into the chair across from his. Lifting one long, curvaceous leg, she settled her bare foot into his lap. “You know why I’m here, Connor. I put a proposition to you a month ago. I’m still waiting for your answer.”

Conn settled both hands around her small foot and started massaging it. “I didn’t think you were serious, Liv.”

“Deadly.” She arched her foot, sighing in pleasure as he massaged her instep. “I want you to marry me. No strings, no fancy expectations, prenuptial agreements on both sides to protect our mutual business interests.”

“We could just sleep together and save the lawyers’ fees.”

She laughed. “Hell, I’ve been trying to get you into my bed for eight months, Devlin, with nothing to show for it but a near-terminal case of frustration.”

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