Page 48 of Tito

Reggie

Igestured toward the crumbs on Tito’s otherwise clean plate. “I’m guessing you liked it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “That was the best Reuben I’ve ever eaten.”

“I hoped you’d like this place.”

South Beach Bar and Grillewas on Mission Beach’s boardwalk. It had a “secret menu” of several items that only the regulars knew about, leaving the general public to simply go without knowledge of the tasty items.

The Reuben sandwich and oysters Rockefeller were two of my all-time favorites, both of which weren’t on the menu. After Tito let me pick our dining establishment for the evening, I felt obliged to force him to try the restaurant’s beloved secret offerings.

He glanced over his shoulder, toward the ocean. “It’s got a great atmosphere, too.”

“My friend Mel and I used to come here on Sundays for the all-you-can-drink Bloody Mary’s. I think we’re the reason they quit doing it.”

“Why aren’t you drinking tonight?” he asked.

“Seriously?” I found it odd he even felt the need to ask, unless he wanted to rub it in. I glared back at him playfully. “You refused to have sex with me because I was drunk the last time we went out. I’m not going to risk having that happen again.”

“There was more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It wasn’t just because you were drunk. There was more to it than that.”

“Like what?”

“I enjoyed our time together and wanted a second date,” he replied. “That was the biggest reason.”

“You thought if we had sex—”

“I was afraid if we had sex, I’d never see you again.”

“After kissing me like that?” I coughed a laugh. “Seeing you again was inevitable. I had to find out if it was a fluke, or if it was real.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“That was a compliment, wasn’t it?”

“Uhhm. I suppose.” I grinned. “Yeah. I guess so.”

The waiter stepped to Tito’s side. “So, what did you think about that sandwich?”

“It was fabulous,” Tito said.

He reached for Tito’s plate. “We’re afraid if we put it on the menu, it’d be all we sold.”

Tito looked up and nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“The Reuben may have been invented in New York, but we perfected it here.” The waiter looked at me, and then at Tito. “Can I get you anything else? A drink? Dessert?”

Tito looked at me, and then the waiter. “Give us a few minutes, can you?”

The waiter took my plate and offered a smile. “Sure.”

“It makes me mad every time they say that ‘it was invented in New York, and it was perfected here’ crap,” I said.