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“And was he a chef?” Maria fired back, her eyes tried to hold my gaze for a bit, but she turned back to her meal.
“Far from it.”
“What did he do?”
“All sorts of business,” I replied, more shyly than I had expected.
“That involved kitchens?” She was trying to pry, but I wouldn’t give all of me away just yet.
“Yes, and a whole lot more.”
Maria drove her fork into her plate, gripping it tightly. I could tell that I was getting on her nerves with my cryptic answers. I leaned forward and touched her hand, “God, you have the mostbeautifuleyes.” She tried to hold my gaze, but her eyes flicked back and forth between me and our hands. Maria shuffled in her seat, taken aback by the sudden compliment.
“That’s what my optician tells me, thank you.” She replied, witty as ever.
I looked down at her plate and saw that she was done with her food. I swooped in, revealing another dish. I set it down in front of her and watched as her eyes shot upwards in shock. I had made spaghetti and chicken Milanese, my father's favorite. I topped off her drink again and dished out the next course of the meal. “You know, when I was cooking this, I could not help but feel excited to have dinner with you. This is such a good time we are having,” I paused, adding with a sly look. “But I know a way that could make our evening even better.”
“The food is really good, I won’t lie,” Maria replied, wanting to appear unfazed by my implication.
I knew she was not lying. The foodwasexquisite, and I had taken a great amount of time to make it just perfect for her. However, she seemed less interested in the food and more interested in the business which had brought her there. “Once we are done with this course, then we can discuss other things. More interesting things. Is that okay?”
She raised an eyebrow, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Interesting things?”
“Things that would… be interesting for both of us to explore.” I bit my lips as I stared directly at her. I knew she understood what I was hinting at, but she played acted clueless.
“I don’t think I understand. I’m just here on business,” Maria replied, looking away. I caught the look on her face and I could see that she wanted me as well. However, she also seemed uncomfortable, so I saw took a chance to make my move.
“Then we’ll do that.”
“Sounds good,” she replied. “Oh no, that’s fine. I don’t need anymore,” she said as I leaned over with the bottle.
I pulled away as she rejected the offer of more wine. She was beginning to know her limits and did not want to test them.
We ate in silence for a bit until she cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “So, do you own this place?”
“Yes. The whole building, truth be told,” I replied. “It belonged to my father, and after his passing, it became mine.”
“Sorry to hear about his passing. Would you mind if I asked what happened?”
I felt my face drop. “Gunshot wound.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maria replied. “Did they find the person responsible?”
“No, but I’m certain that someday it will come to light. Until then, we must continue to live as best as we can.” I lifted my glass. “Cheers, to a life with those we love, a life worth living.”
Maria lifted her glass and clinked it against mine, “To the living.” After a sip, she continued. “I’m guessing that living in a place like this must not come cheap. I mean, those chairs there probably cost my whole apartment.”
“Probably, but you’ve got a good eye. They’re Hungarian, premium leather, the finest money can buy.”
“This whole place must cost a small fortune. It’s stunning.”
“It did” I replied with a smile. I wasn’t shy about my wealth. “And thank you. I enjoy keeping my place up to standard.”
“So, how did you pull it off?” Maria asked, suddenly deadpan.
I took a final bite of my food and shook my head, pretending not to hear what she had asked. “Sorry, what was that?”
“All of this. The money, the exquisite home, the delicious food. What do you do for a living?”
