George grinned back at him. “Good thinking, boss.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, George gobbling the entire main course, which turned out to be a thick slab of prime rib. Dan took a few spoonfuls of soup and nibbled at the salad.

“Better than the old days, huh?” George said, still chewing prime rib. Fookin’ soyburgers and recycled piss for water.”

Dan ignored the younger man’s attempt to jolly him. “Has Teresa gone home?” he asked.

“Nope.”

Nettled, Dan glanced at his wristwatch. “She’s not my nursemaid, double-damn it.

I don’t want her hovering over me like—”

“That Humphries bloke is still waitin’ to see you,” George said. “Now? He’s out there now? It’s almost nine o’clock, for chrissakes. What’s wrong with him? Is he stuck here because of the storm? Doesn’t Teresa have the smarts to put him up in one of the guest suites?”

George shook his shaggy head. “He said he’ll wait until you’re ready to see ’im. He did have an appointment, y’know.”

Dan let his breath out in a weary sigh. I just got back from the funeral and they expect me to stick to a schedule made out weeks ago.

“Teresa says he’s makin’ her nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“He’s comin’ on to her. I can see it meself.”

Frowning, Dan muttered, “Teresa can take care of herself.”

“The voice of experience?” George grinned.

“He’s been hitting on her all the time he’s been waiting for me?”

“Want me to shoo ’im off?” George asked.

For a moment Dan relished the image of George hustling his visitor out of the building. But then he realized that the man would simply come back tomorrow. I’ll have to get back to business, he told himself. Can’t avoid it forever. “Take the tray out,” he said to Big George,” and show this Humphries guy in.”