Caught Redhanded by Gayle Roper Page B

News. Remember?”
    “Of course, of course.” He walked to me, his hand extended.
    I stood quickly, knowing he didn’t remember at all.
    “Ms. Kramer, forgive me for keeping you waiting. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His two-handed grip swallowed my hand. “Please, let’s go into my office.”
    “Mr. Weldon just finished painting it for you,” Annie said helpfully. “It’s a beautiful color.”
    Tony Compton nodded and stood aside to let me precede him. When it was obvious that Compton’s attention was on me, Annie sat with a sigh. Poor kid. Unrequited love was a very hurtful thing.
    The walls of the office were a beautiful color, a rich crimson that sat well with the crisp white window frames, crown molding, baseboards and bookshelves. On the floor under boxes of unpacked papers and books lay a cream oriental rug patterned in crimson, fawn and black. Behind the massive cherry desk was an executive’s chair covered in crimson leather. Assuming Tony Compton had asked for the walls to be crimson, he had either a great decorator or an unusually strong sense of design and color for a guy.
    “Wow,” I said, looking around. “Very lovely.”
    “I was going more for you-can-trust-this-guy than lovely,” he said with a smile. I couldn’t help but notice that when he smiled, the corners of his dark eyes crinkled like those of an old-time cowboy too long in the sun. Interesting on a man whose job kept him indoors most of the day.
    He indicated I should sit in one of the two visitors’ chairs placed before his desk. They reminded me of the two upholstered chairs my mother had sitting at either end of her dining room table, except these were crimson leather instead of blue on blue brocade.
    As I sat down, I told myself that the paint fumes weren’t bothering me, weren’t making my nose twitch.
    “So, Mr. Compton,” I said, “what made you decide you wanted to practice law in Amhearst?”
    “Please, call me Tony.” His smile was so charming I found myself smiling back automatically. He must beguile juries easily with that charisma, especially the women.
    “So, Tony, what made you decide to practice law here in Amhearst?”
    “As you probably know—and I’m assuming someone as professional as you did your homework—I practiced for several years in a large firm in Harrisburg.”
    I wondered how he knew how professional I was, but I had to admit it was a good line. I found myself sitting straighter.
    “I liked being in a firm at the center of state politics. There was always something exciting going on. But after a while the furious pace and the constant stress began to wear on me.” He aimed the high-wattage smile at me again.
    I nodded as if I understood and wondered whether a smile that came so easily and so frequently meant much. I also told my stomach that the stronger-than-usual paint vapors were not making me feel ill. After all, throwing up in a man’s freshly painted office is hardly professional.
    Tony stood abruptly, for once sober-faced. “I don’t know about you, but these fumes are getting to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that man used oil-based paint, the smell is so strong.”
    Gratefully I stood, too.
    He walked around his desk and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me toward the door as if I didn’t know where it was. He smiled down at me, one of those smiles that says you’re-the-most-fascinating-woman-I’ve-ever-seen-and-I’m-so-glad-you’re-heremy-day-would-have-been-a-total-loss-without-this-time-with-you.
    Quite frankly not many people had ever smiled at me like that. Just Curt and once in a blue moon, Jack, the old boyfriend. And maybe the kid I had a crush on my freshman year in high school. I loved it when Curt looked at me with such genuine love and delight. Jack and the kid from high school no longer counted. With Tony, even though I knew it was part of his schtick, I felt flattered.
    Women of Amhearst, look out!
    Maybe I should wave my engagement