he thought bitterly, as big a failure as one could become.
"Peter Hale?"
Peter looked up and found a tall, solidly built man in a business suit staring down at him.
"Steve Mancini," the man said. "We went to law school together."
"Right!" Peter said, breaking into a smile.
"Mind if I sit down?" Mancini asked as he slid into the booth across from Peter.
"Hell, no. What are you drinking."
"No, no. It's on me. I'm half owner of this joint."
Mancini signaled for a waitress.
"You live in Whitaker?" Peter asked incredulously, unable to fathom why any sane person would choose to live in a town without one decent clothing store.
"Live here and practice law here. But what are you doing Whitaker? I thought you went to work for your father's firm. Are you out on a case?"
"Uh, yes and no," Peter said, stalling for time. There was no way he was going to tell Mancini the truth, but "There you are," a woman said, and Peter looked over his shoulder into a pair of hazel eyes that had no room for him and were filled with Steve Mancini. Standing next to the beautiful brunette was a rugged-looking man with the broad shoulders and thick forearms of someone who labors for a living. He had curly black hair, a bushy mustache and blue eyes and he was grinning widely at Steve.
Mancini stood and kissed the woman on her cheek.
Then, he took her hand.
"Pete, this is my fiancee, Donna Harmon, and her brother, Gary."
A law school memory of Steve Mancini and a pretty blond wife made Peter frown for a moment, but he caught himself and said, "Hey, congratulations."
"Thank you," Donna answered with a satisfied grin.
"When is the wedding?"
"We're tying the knot in a few weeks," Mancini answered, as he ushered Donna into the booth and sat beside her. Gary slid in next to Peter.
"Do you have the tickets?" Gary asked.
"What tickets?" Mancini asked deadpan.
Gary looked panicky. "My football tickets. The season tickets. You you didn't forget my tickets, did you, Steve?"
"Don't tease him, Steve," Donna said sternly. "Of course, he has them, Gary."
"Here they are, buddy," Mancini said, pulling an envelope out ai his suit jacket.
Gary Harmon's face lit up and he started to grab for the tickets.
"What do you say first, Gary?" Donna asked gently.
Gary looked confused for a second and Peter examined him more closely. The guy looked normal, but he was acting like a kid.
Gary's face suddenly broke into a grin and, he said, "Thanks, Steve."
what could he say?
"Hey, guy, you're welcome."
Gary took the tickets and examined them as if they were a priceless work of art. "So, Pete," Mancini asked, "what brings you to Whitaker?"
Peter had hoped that Mancini had forgotten the question, but the arrival of Donna and Gary Harmon had given him time to invent an answer.
"I'm working for Amos Geary."
"Geary?" The expression on Mancini's face registered disapproval. "I never pictured you as the type to practice small-town law. I thought you were aiming for a partnership in a megafirm."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I was working in my father's firm in Portland. Hale, Greaves. But I got tired of the rat race and Dad's an old friend of Amos. They played ball together at Oregon State."
Mancini forced a smile and he and Donna congratulated Peter on his new job.
"How did you get to Whitaker?" Peter asked to divert Mancini's attention.
"Didn't you see the trophy case when you walked in?"
"Well, no, I In my senior "Then, check it out when you leave.
year, I quarterbacked the Stallions to the NCAA Divipionsion 11 title, Whitaker State's only national chain ship in any spar ."
"Tell about the run, Steve," Gary begged, leaning forward eagerly.
"You've heard this story a million times," Dorma chided her brother.
"But I haven't," Peter said, hoping that Mancini would not press him further on his reason for being in Whitaker if he could keep him talking football.
"Looks like you're overruled," Mancini laughed. He ut his arm around Donna and leaned back in the
"Peter Hale?"
Peter looked up and found a tall, solidly built man in a business suit staring down at him.
"Steve Mancini," the man said. "We went to law school together."
"Right!" Peter said, breaking into a smile.
"Mind if I sit down?" Mancini asked as he slid into the booth across from Peter.
"Hell, no. What are you drinking."
"No, no. It's on me. I'm half owner of this joint."
Mancini signaled for a waitress.
"You live in Whitaker?" Peter asked incredulously, unable to fathom why any sane person would choose to live in a town without one decent clothing store.
"Live here and practice law here. But what are you doing Whitaker? I thought you went to work for your father's firm. Are you out on a case?"
"Uh, yes and no," Peter said, stalling for time. There was no way he was going to tell Mancini the truth, but "There you are," a woman said, and Peter looked over his shoulder into a pair of hazel eyes that had no room for him and were filled with Steve Mancini. Standing next to the beautiful brunette was a rugged-looking man with the broad shoulders and thick forearms of someone who labors for a living. He had curly black hair, a bushy mustache and blue eyes and he was grinning widely at Steve.
Mancini stood and kissed the woman on her cheek.
Then, he took her hand.
"Pete, this is my fiancee, Donna Harmon, and her brother, Gary."
A law school memory of Steve Mancini and a pretty blond wife made Peter frown for a moment, but he caught himself and said, "Hey, congratulations."
"Thank you," Donna answered with a satisfied grin.
"When is the wedding?"
"We're tying the knot in a few weeks," Mancini answered, as he ushered Donna into the booth and sat beside her. Gary slid in next to Peter.
"Do you have the tickets?" Gary asked.
"What tickets?" Mancini asked deadpan.
Gary looked panicky. "My football tickets. The season tickets. You you didn't forget my tickets, did you, Steve?"
"Don't tease him, Steve," Donna said sternly. "Of course, he has them, Gary."
"Here they are, buddy," Mancini said, pulling an envelope out ai his suit jacket.
Gary Harmon's face lit up and he started to grab for the tickets.
"What do you say first, Gary?" Donna asked gently.
Gary looked confused for a second and Peter examined him more closely. The guy looked normal, but he was acting like a kid.
Gary's face suddenly broke into a grin and, he said, "Thanks, Steve."
what could he say?
"Hey, guy, you're welcome."
Gary took the tickets and examined them as if they were a priceless work of art. "So, Pete," Mancini asked, "what brings you to Whitaker?"
Peter had hoped that Mancini had forgotten the question, but the arrival of Donna and Gary Harmon had given him time to invent an answer.
"I'm working for Amos Geary."
"Geary?" The expression on Mancini's face registered disapproval. "I never pictured you as the type to practice small-town law. I thought you were aiming for a partnership in a megafirm."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I was working in my father's firm in Portland. Hale, Greaves. But I got tired of the rat race and Dad's an old friend of Amos. They played ball together at Oregon State."
Mancini forced a smile and he and Donna congratulated Peter on his new job.
"How did you get to Whitaker?" Peter asked to divert Mancini's attention.
"Didn't you see the trophy case when you walked in?"
"Well, no, I In my senior "Then, check it out when you leave.
year, I quarterbacked the Stallions to the NCAA Divipionsion 11 title, Whitaker State's only national chain ship in any spar ."
"Tell about the run, Steve," Gary begged, leaning forward eagerly.
"You've heard this story a million times," Dorma chided her brother.
"But I haven't," Peter said, hoping that Mancini would not press him further on his reason for being in Whitaker if he could keep him talking football.
"Looks like you're overruled," Mancini laughed. He ut his arm around Donna and leaned back in the
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