Thomas’s smile dawned slowly, snagging her gaze. She realized she was grinning back at him. “Picking up strays even as a girl,” he murmured. “It’s easy to see why you became a doctor. You practice internal medicine, right?”
Sophie nodded.
“I’ve watched you with your patients a couple times while I was in the waiting room. They trust you. I can tell. They really believe you care.”
He said it with such genuine warmth that Sophie blushed in mixed embarrassment and pleasure. “Thanks. What about you?” she asked, longing to turn the topic away from herself. “Does it make sense that you became an investment advisor?”
“No sense whatsoever,” he replied before he tossed the last of his toast in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee.
“Why’d you do it then?”
He shook his head while he chewed, a grin still shaping his mouth. “I had to do something once I left Mama’s arms.”
“Mama?”
“The military,” he chuckled, seeing her stunned expression.
“Hardly a maternal figure.”
He tilted his head as though considering the matter thoughtfully. “The Navy took care of me for sixteen years of my life. Orphans can’t be too picky about who takes them in.”
Her smile faded.
“Still . . . why did you choose the financial sector when you became a civilian?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’m good with numbers. I remember my mom—my real mom—used to say my dad was, too, even though he only finished the seventh grade. When I was in the second grade, I asked my real dad who the founding fathers were, and he said, “I’m not sure about the other guys, but Lincoln headed ’em up.” He met her gaze and smiled. “But numbers—that was different. He could just glance at a page-long column of three- or four-digit numbers and tell you if the bottom line was incorrect. I’m not quite as impressive as my dad, but I got the freak gene.”
“He was a savant,” Sophie murmured.
Thomas nodded.
“Thomas?” He met her stare. “Is that why you’re so convinced that the FBI was wrong about their allegations about your client? Mannero?”
“I don’t make mistakes when it comes to the books, Sophie. If the IRS gave the FBI a tip that Mannero was using crooked accounting, they were looking at different books than I saw.”
Sophie nodded thoughtfully.
“Now I have a question for you,” he said as he picked up another piece of toast.
She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of coffee.
“Your psychologist friend? Lancaster? Is that all he is to you? A friend?”
The abrupt change in his tone and topic made her blink. “Yes. He’s happily married. I’m friends with his wife, Sheila, as well.”
Thomas nodded. His earlier broad smile and light manner might have been a figment of her imagination. “And is he a good doctor? In your opin
ion?”
Sophie opened her mouth to say she knew why he was asking; she knew his brother had been Andy’s patient. But she recalled what he’d said about not wanting to talk about Rick at the moment and swallowed her words.
“He’s an excellent psychologist,” she sufficed to say.
He nodded again, his gaze intent on her face.
“I wonder ...” He began thoughtfully.
“What?”