It wasn’t that she felt any need to compete for Ustinov’s attentions. He was anything but her type. Still, she couldn’t help being flattered by his interest. The seemingly accidental touches, the hand on her arm while he made this or that point, the occasional pressure of his knee on her thigh beneath the table, the whispered asides, all seemed designed to make her feel she was the center of his world, at least for this evening. The obvious fact that he paid equal service to the lovely young lady on his left only heightened the odd attraction she was beginning to feel after the sixth glass of the wonderful wine.

Even as her head spun and she felt her cheeks blush as they had not done since college, Catherine Goldman knew there was no chance at all that any of this would lead anywhere. She was too much of a professional to allow some horny young programmer on the prowl to come between her and her work. Still, it was not an unpleasant way to spend an evening, after weeks of grinding work. No matter the Russian’s motives, she allowed herself to relax, to enjoy the food, drink, and male attention.

It was late when she made her excuses. She ignored his protests, got up, and walked a bit unsteadily through the mob that was still in the restaurant, making her way out onto the sidewalk. The cold air felt invigorating and snow gently drifted down through the golden glow from the streetlights.

There were no taxis in sight, not at all unusual for Lower Manhattan this late on a weeknight. They were uptown, hauling theatergoers. Ustinov had insisted on driving her to the hotel, but Goldman politely declined. The walk around the Battery to the Millennium wasn’t far at all. It would serve to keep things simple, businesslike. She would not have to summon up some resistance she had not had to call on in years if he tried to extend the evening.

“Very well, Cathy,” he relented. “Do be careful out there.”

There was something about the look in his eyes when he said it. It could have been disappointment. Maybe worry. Whatever, she allowed him to linger a bit when he gave her a very tight good night hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

The door to Harry’s closed behind her, cutting off the happy laughter and chatter of the people inside. Catherine Goldman pulled her coat around her and turned down Water Street, walking briskly, breathing deeply, allowing the cold, clean air to clear the pleasant fuzz from her head.