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He took something out of his pocket, and handed it to the man, who inclined his head in parting before leaving the same way they’d come in.
“Shall we?” Offering his arm once again, Lawrence led her to the table. She was surprised to see two plates of food—lobster and fillet, from the look of it. Where had they come from? She hadn’t noticed anyone but Lawrence. Lawrence and the rising and falling strains of music.
Her perfect date pulled out her chair and even unfolded the crisp white napkin onto her lap before sitting himself.
Wait until Alessandra heard about this one. There was something to be said about dating a man who’d been raised to be a literal gentleman. All the better that he’d clearly lived long enough to cultivate a more enlightened view of women.
“I have questions,” she said, watching as he took a bottle of wine from the bucket next to their table. “Many, many questions.”
“Ask away.”
He poured two glasses and held one up, smiling.
“Sláinte,” he said.
“What does that mean?” she asked, taking a sip.
“Health,” he answered. “To which you might respond, ‘sláinte agad-sa.’”
She tried it, but the words refused to roll off her tongue. After a few attempts, he gave her an alternative. “To your health as well.”
“Now that I can say.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Soooo,” she said, letting the word roll off her tongue. “Where did the food come from?”
“Roberto’s.”
A local Italian restaurant. “Okay, but it wasn’t here when we came in.”
He nodded toward the back of the bank. “They were stealthy,” he said as if that were an answer. So whoever had brought it in had used a back entrance. And she hadn’t noticed while they were dancing. No surprise there—her attention had been laser-focused on him.
“And the violinist?”
“One of the perks of working at a bar is that you meet a lot of people.”
She sat back, trying to reconcile this Lawrence with the one she’d been hanging around with all summer. Were they truly the same man?
She didn’t need to ask him that. The answer was a resounding yes. She’d always noticed how devoted Lawrence was to Alessandra’s safety. How compassionate and understanding he was as a friend—even to Kenton, who’d been his enemy for years.
She’d seen the man he was from the beginning, but she’d blinded herself to it because of Tyler.
“You are . . . unbelievable. This is . . .” She shrugged.
“What you deserve,” he said simply. “Any other questions?”
They began to eat while she fired away some others. Where had he learned to dance like that? How had he planned this so quickly?
It wasn’t until they were nearly finished that she asked the one that had struck her from the beginning.
“So, does this mean the bank’s yours? Did Davis sell it to you?”
Lawrence’s eyes lit up. He stood and held out his hand.
She took it.
“An interesting story, that . . .”