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Well, my aunt Minerva’s, really.”
    “You mean you’re Minerva’s niece? From the café next door?”
    Her smile faded a bit as she studied his face. “One and the same. I’m Madelaine Cooper,
     but most people call me Lainey.” She stuck out her hand, then snatched it back to
     catch the towel. “Sorry.” Her cheeks pinkened again, but she gamely continued. “And
     despite the Armbruster sisters’ shenanigans, I’m pleased to meet you, Tucker. Really.
     And don’t worry, I won’t say anything about … Well, what I mean is, I won’t complain.
     After all,” she continued with a nervous laugh, “it felt wonderful. I mean, you have
     great hands and— Oh, boy.” She groaned and dipped her chin.
    Amused and more intrigued than he thought he could be, he watched as she took a deep
     breath for composure and lifted her head again.
    “I don’t want to jeopardize your job,” she said with admirable calm. “You really are
     good at this.”
    Tucker thought he heard a repressed sigh on that last part, but his mind was still
     on the fact that this was Minerva’s niece and one of the few people who knew the mystery
     man. “I appreciate that,” he said, almost absently, relieved that at least part of
     his brain was still on his real purpose for being there.
    “Well,” she said when the silence spun out. “I think I’ve had about all my system
     can take for one day.”
    Her gaze caught his suddenly. He didn’t comment, but the brief flash of vulnerability
     in her eyes did bring him out of his musings. She was a fascinating mix of bold, beautiful,
     and shy. “Me too,” he said with a grin that invited her to share the humor in the
     situation.
    He wished he could share the entire story with her, was compelled to, anyway, despite
     Lillian’s misgivings. If he did have to go through with this ridiculous charade, it
     would be good to have at least one person—besides Lillian—to be truthful with.
    Given her obvious sense of humor, he was certain Lainey would find the whole thing
     as absurd as he did. It also occurred to him that telling her about it could clear
     up the entire matter. She might be able to explain away the entire situation. But
     something—his sixth sense or whatever you want to call it—stopped him at the last
     moment.
    He could tell himself it was loyalty to Lillian and her concerns about handling her
     suspicions a certain way, but something else stopped him too.
    He wanted to get to know Lainey a little better before he decided how to pursue the
     situation.
    “Well,” she said, “I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll let you get on with your other appointments.”
    “Actually, you’re the only one I had today,” he said, not knowing if it was true,
     but he could remedy that. “I don’t suppose you’re free for lunch? Or maybe a quick
     cup of coffee?”
    His offer obviously surprised her. Apparently she wasn’t as affected by the masseur
     as he was by his new client. His ego took the blow in stride. After all, it was information
     he was really after.
    Yeah
,
okay
, his little voice shot back.
    “I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “We’re catering a luncheon later today, and I’ve got
     a ton of things to do. I really did this as a favor to the twins.” Her eyes brightened
     a bit as a hint of her bolder side flashed through again in a short grin. “The things
     I endure for friendship.”
    Tucker smiled. “Mind if I stop in later for a cup of coffee?”
    She shrugged, then grabbed at her drape again. “We never turn away a paying customer.”
    Tucker wondered at the wariness that had crept into her smile. It might be the natural
     reaction to a professional making a personal play for a client. He supposed it probably
     was unethical, if he was truly a professional—which he wasn’t. He realized he was
     drawing a fine line, but it
was
a line.
    “Lillian says Minerva’s pot pie isn’t to be missed. Maybe I’ll stop in for lunch