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The server was now at our table, showing me the bottle of cabernet sauvignon I had ordered before Billie arrived. I waited for the tasting, swirling it around in my mouth and approving it with a nod. Both of our glasses were filled before we were alone again.
I held my wine in the air. “To a delicious dinner.”
The dark makeup made her eyes greener, her stare more intense. “Cheers.”
Our glasses clinked, and I took a drink, watching her do the same as I opened my menu. “What’s good?”
“Their escargot is divine,” she said. “So is their duck and their roasted quail. It would be a disservice if you left here without sampling their croque monsieur.”
“Sold.” I shut the large, leather-bound book and called over the server. “We’ll start with the escargot and croque monsieur. We’ll then have the duck and the quail.” I glanced at Billie. “Should we add anything else?”
She handed her menu to the server and said, “No.”
Now that her hands were free, Billie didn’t seem to know what to do with them.
To distract her, I leaned in closer, gripping my wineglass. “Next pick is yours.” She said nothing, so I added, “It doesn’t have to be a restaurant. We can meet anywhere. I just want it to be a place where you feel the most comfortable.”
She took a piece of bread out of the basket, breaking off the corner and popping it into her mouth. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
Color rose into her cheeks, and she paused for a few seconds. “Is there a wife who’s going to get really upset about these meetups?”
I didn’t laugh. I didn’t want to embarrass her. It was a fair question, and I could tell it had been hard for her to bring it up. It just sounded cute as hell, coming from her.
“There’s no wife, Billie.”
“Has there ever been one?”
As I twisted the warm stem in my hand, I watched the dark wine swirl. “No.”
“Kids?” My eyes returned to her, and she added, “I’ll stop drilling you, I promise.”
I could understand how it was easier for her to talk about me.
It just wasn’t a topic we were going to stay on for long.
“No.”
She exhaled and said, “Okay.”
I reached into the bread basket, taking out a small baguette. “Tell me about the first restaurant you were paid to review.”
She shifted in her chair, and I got a whiff of her scent again. It reminded me of when I’d initially smelled her on the plane, how there was such a sweetness, a buttercream aroma to her. Her eyes locked with mine, and I clenched my hands under the table because …
Even through her pain, I could still see her fire.
THIRTY-EIGHT
BILLIE
“YOU HAVE no idea how horrible it went,” I said to Jared, telling him about the first restaurant I had been paid to review. “There I was, in the kitchen, standing next to one of the top chefs in Miami. I was so nervous that my elbow hit the handle of a fry pan, and the hot oil spilled into the gas.” I laughed—I could now, just not when it had happened. “They stopped the fire before the entire kitchen went up in flames, but the fire department still had to come. It’s one of my most embarrassing moments of my life.” My face felt so hot, and I knew his stare had a lot to do with it. “When I left, I promised to send a case of wine from his favorite region. Needless to say, the chef didn’t pay for the review I gave him.”
Jared smiled.
It was the first time I had seen him do that, and it was beautiful.
“Which wine did he pick?”
I waited until my laughter calmed a little to answer, “He didn’t. He told me the same thing happened to him right out of culinary school and said it was a rite of passage. Now, whenever I’m in Miami, I stop in to see him. I’ve become good friends with him and his husband.”
“Good ending to that one.”
I nodded. “Your turn. Hit me up with your most embarrassing experience.”
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing. “I don’t know about most embarrassing, but I’ve got a few really memorable ones.”
Chewing a bite of bread, I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. “Which is your favorite?”
