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Lightfoot?”
    “Yeah. Right about then.”
    “You had a falling-out with the families over the business of making death machines?”
    “That wasn't the only problem,” he felt obliged to confess. “There were other things going on at the time.”
    “What other things?”
    “Do you always get this personal this fast in a relationship?”
    She immediately settled back against the vinyl seat and put her hands in her lap. “We're not talking about a relationship. We're talking about business.”
    “I don't want to talk about business tonight, Phila. Not unless you want to discuss those shares.”
    “I don't.”
    “Then we're left with a relationship discussion.”
    She looked him straight in the eye. “Are you going to try to seduce me after all?”
    “Are you in a mood to be seduced?”
    “No. Absolutely not, so don't get any ideas.” She waited a beat and then, drawn inevitably back to the bait, asked, “Did you really walk away from Castleton & Lightfoot because they make military electronics?”
    “As I said, there were a lot of things going on at the time besides that argument.” He had her now. He was certain of it. The pleasurable sense of anticipation increased. The bright, glittering little Fox was hooked. It would take skill and subtlety to close the trap, but Nick looked forward to the challenge. “Let's talk about something else.”
    “I'd rather talk about what made you decide you wanted Castleton & Lightfoot to get out of the death machine business,” she said.
    He took a firm grip on his patience and chose his words carefully. “Let's just say that military contracts are often more trouble than they're worth from a business point of view. It's a damned nuisance having to get security clearances for so many employees, there's too much interference from bureaucrats trying to make brownie points by playing the role of government watchdog.”
    Disappointment dawned immediately in her expressive eyes. “Those are the reasons you wanted your firm to stop working for the government? You didn't like the paperwork?”
    His lips curved slightly. “You want me to tell you that I suffered a liberal conversion and saw the light?”
    “I'd like to think that there was some vague form of ethics involved in your decision, yes.”
    “Well, there may have been a few other reasons besides the paperwork problems, but as I recall they didn't carry much weight with the other members of the families.”
    “What reasons?” Phila demanded, on the scent again.
    “I don't think this is a good time to go into them,” Nick said smoothly. “Let's talk about you for a while. Tell me why you quit your job. You were a social worker or welfare worker or something, I take it?”
    “I was a caseworker for CPS,” she said, her voice cooling.
    He tried to place the initials and failed. “CPS?”
    “Child Protective Services.”
    “Foster homes? Abused kids? That kind of thing?”
    “Yes,” Phila said, her voice growing even colder. “That kind of thing.”
    “Your ex-supervisor said something about your trying to avoid interviews. What was that all about?”
    “There was a trial involving a foster parent. I had to testify. After the trial a lot of people wanted interviews.”
    The more reticent she became, the more curious Nick grew. “You decided to quit your job after the trial ended?”
    “People in my line of work have a high rate of burnout.” She smiled gratefully at the waitress who arrived to take their order. “Oh, good,” she told him. “I'm starving.”
    Nick watched her make a major production out of ordering the chicken and sensed he wasn't going to get her back on the topic of her former job.
    “I'll have the special,” Nick told the waitress.
    The woman looked up from her order pad. “It's macaroni and cheese,” she said in a warning tone.
    “Fine.”
    “Macaroni and cheese?” Phila murmured in deep wonder as the waitress left.
    “I happen to like macaroni and cheese. I'm a man of