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do,” he said. “We’ll start with a bottle of Dom Perignon, we’ll share bruschetta as an appetizer, Caesar salad for two, Filet oscar for me, rare, and Shrimp provençale for the lady.”
    Lilly stifled a sigh of disappointment and leaned closer to whisper to him. “I’m allergic to shellfish.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Chicken marsala?”
    “Fine, thank you,” she said. She could forgive him. It was just a little glitch. Sure, she’d told him she was allergic to shellfish several times, but Robert had more important things crowding his mind. Tonight the proposal could have him distracted.
    She laced her fingers tightly together in her lap and waited for the waiter to leave. “So tell me why you’re so excited?” she asked with a smile and hoped he didn’t notice her slight lisp.
    He leaned toward her. “I wanted you to be the first to know. After my parents, anyway,” he said with a low, intimate tone. He opened his hand on the table in a gesture of invitation.
    Lilly rubbed her damp palm against her dress and placed her hand in his. “This sounds important.”
    “Trust me. It is.”
    Lilly’s pulse pounded so hard she feared he could hear it. “Tell me.”
    He looked from side to side and cleared his throat. “I have just received the endorsement of the Texas Cattlemen’s Association and the Houston Chronicle .”
    She nodded. “And?”
    He laughed. “This is huge. Do you realize what kind of influence these endorsements could give me? This has to be my biggest breakthrough so far.”
    She nodded, still sitting on the edge of her seat. “That’s great news. Great news. Was there something else you wanted to tell me?”
    His eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean was this what you wanted me to be the first to know?” she asked, praying that it wasn’t.
    He beamed. “Yes, it was. I knew you would be as excited as I was.” He released her hand and pointed. “Look. Here comes the waiter with the champagne. Great timing.”
    “Incredible,” she murmured, numb with disappointment. She felt like an idiot. She wondered if there was a neon light flashing stupid on her forehead as she watched the waiter pour the champagne.
    Robert swirled the bubbly liquid in his flute and sampled it, then lifted his glass to her. “Join me in a toast.”
    Trying to muster some enthusiasm, she dutifully lifted her glass and kept her smile plastered on her face.
    “To good news,” he said, clinking his glass against hers. “And good friends to share it with.”
    “Cheers,” she muttered and gulped the champagne. Good friends . Her ego was flattened. She lifted the glass and gulped it again. Good friends, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal . Another gulp and she was finished.
    Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Careful Lilly, you don’t want to get lightheaded in public.”
    “Why not?” she asked, feeling waspish.
    “Well you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”
    “I’m curious,” she said, wishing she had the nerve to get roaring drunk. “When is it appropriate to get light-headed?”
    “In private,” he said in a low voice. “With someone who won’t take advantage of you.”
    What if I want to be taken advantage of? She opened her mouth, looked into his eyes, and promptly lost her nerve. “Congratulations on your news,” she said and saw the light return to his eyes. Her reminder of his success had made him happy. His happiness should have made her happy, but she was miserable and now she had to sit here and hide it through at least three courses.

The value of a rubber ducky is greatly underestimated.
—D ELILAH’S D ICTUM
    Chapter 4
    S he’d had that blasted dream again.
    Even after she’d poured herself a champagne cocktail and sank into her mini-Jacuzzi with her rubber ducky, it had taken her forever to get back to sleep. When she had, she’d been transported to a dark room with a floor of eggs. She had to get to the other side without breaking any