She’d had to bring up his offer of help and tell him she needed assistance only he could provide before the suspicion left his voice. Although she’d made it clear the dinner was about business and information, not romance, he insisted on picking her up, and they met in the lobby of the Princess Port de Plaisance at seven that night. “I wish you’d come back to the Paradis,” John groused as they walked to his Fiat. “This place is so . . . touristy.” Callie couldn’t help laughing. “I am a tourist, John. You’re the one who lives here.” She thought about the role the Paradis might have played in her past and sobered. “Besides, once you see the thing I want to talk to you about, you’ll understand why I’m not comfortable at the Paradis.” John drove fast, whipping the little car around curves Callie would never have dreamt of taking without brakes, though even he had to slow down going through the more populated areas.
