Convicted
“"I guess it really is hard to find good help these days," quipped her sister Allegra from across the table. She tilted her head toward the man waiting to take their order and added a laugh that made Lisa wince.
"Al." Lisa shook her head.
"Are you ready to order?" Deacon Campbell spoke the words with incredible dignity considering the circumstances.
Lisa studied him. His sleek dark hair was shorter, trimmed around his neck and ears. His face was thinner; his deep brown eyes a little harder. Three years had changed him, but not for the worse. If anything, time and circumstance had aged his previous good looks into an almost feral beauty that reminded Lisa of the wolf-dog hybrids Harry Keller kept on the outskirts of town.
Allegra laughed again. "I'll have the grilled chicken breast and a Tequila Slammer. Oops, I said slammer!" Allegra's poor attempt at humor made Lisa cringe. She turned to her sister with a warning look that, thankfully, Allegra chose to acknowledge.
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