She halted in her tracks and scowled at him. “Do you always have to manipulate everything to get your own way?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “Always,” he assured her. “Get used to it.”

He linked her arm through his and gently, but insistently, escorted her the rest of the way to the restaurant. It seemed to him her footsteps dragged a bit reluctantly, but at least she didn’t bolt on him.

Inside DiPasquali’s, he directed her to a table right smack in front of the window, in plain view of anybody coming or going inside the restaurant or passing by on the street outside. She regarded him with a curious look, but sat where he’d indicated.

Gina DiPasquali joined them at once with their menus, winking at Janet as she handed one to her. If he hadn’t already known about their conspiracy over that dinner at Janet’s, he would have wondered what the two of them were up to.

“Are you thinking of having the lasagna?” Harlan inquired innocently, his gaze fixed on Janet’s face.

Gina chuckled as Janet’s cheeks turned pink. “Caught you, didn’t he?”

“Before he’d taken two bites,” Janet admitted. “Then he rubbed it in for the rest of the evening.”

“I did not,” Harlan protested, feigning indignation. “But I couldn’t very well let you go on thinking you’d put one over on me, though, could I? It would have set a dangerous precedent. I might never have gotten the upper hand again.”

“Who says you ever had it,” she shot right back. “Besides, no gentleman would have embarrassed a hostess by pointing out what he suspected. You should have been oohing and aahing over my supposed culinary skills.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “If you were counting on that, I could have told you not to bother. Harlan’s only a gentleman when it suits his purposes.”

“Besides which, you’d have felt guilty as sin if I offered high praise for a dish you knew you hadn’t prepared,” he asserted. “I was just saving you that.”

“How considerate,” Janet retorted a trifle sourly.

Gina apparently decided to let them resolve the issue of etiquette they were debating, because she stuffed her order book back into her pocket.

“You two can sit here and battle wits from now till the cows come home,” she said. “Let me choose dinner tonight, so you won’t have something more to quibble about. I’ll have Tony fix you something special.”

“Perfect,” Janet said.

Harlan decided she was apparently no more eager to choose from the menu than she was to cook in her own kitchen. It was a wonder she wasn’t skin and bones.