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Nerves fluttered about in Jasper’s stomach as he prepared to leave work that Friday. He’d brought a blazer to throw over his long-sleeved shirt, a half effort to look a little more respectable for dinner. He loosely wrapped a black and silver plaid scarf around his neck and sighed when he saw Hiyori watching. She clearly wasn’t going to pry, and that made him feel generous enough to volunteer, “I’m going for dinner.”

He braced for the teasing and torment, but she just smiled. “Have fun.”

He sent a text to Konrad letting him know he was on the way, and the restaurant doors were propped open by the time he got there, welcoming him in. Jasper’s palate wasn’t distinguished enough to know what he was smelling when he walked inside, only that it smelled amazing. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked around. Konrad emerged from the kitchen, wearing a dark reddish-brown vest over his white shirt, and black slacks.

“May I offer you something to drink?” Konrad asked, retrieving his black suit jacket from the back of a chair and sliding into it. A handkerchief was folded in the front pocket that matched his vest so well that it was infuriating. Was this man ever not perfectly put together?

“Nothing too strong, I have a long drive home.”

“Certainly.”

Konrad walked over to a wall that had been empty during Jasper’s last visit and was now stocked with wine bottles and a few liquors. He produced two glasses and approached the table—the same one as last time, with the velvet booth arced around it—where a single candle burned. Jasper almost snorted; he could only imagine how appalled Konrad would be if Jasper ever hosted him. They would be eating fried fish and drinking whiskey.

He watched Konrad pour them each a glass and accepted his with a nod. Konrad raised his glass. “To spending the evening in most favorable company.”

Jasper tried not to roll his eyes as he lifted his own glass by a fraction. He turned away as he took a sip, sure he was doing it wrong by not “inhaling the bouquet” or whatever the proper etiquette was for wine he could only assume was expensive. Konrad went to check on dinner and Jasper quietly downed the rest of it. He had to drive, but he would also love to be less on edge.

Konrad didn’t comment on the empty glass when he returned. He simply refilled it, and informed Jasper that dinner was served. Jasper asked if he needed any help bringing it out and was refused, so he slid into the booth and waited, sipping his replenished wine.

And as if his first dinner with Konrad hadn’t felt far enough out of his pay grade, the man brought this meal out on a rolling cart, the wheels gliding almost silently on the polished floor. Jasper took a longer sip of wine than was strictly appropriate as Konrad carved the meat, the origin of which Jasper couldn’t discern from sight alone, and plated it like a piece of art. He put the first plate down in front of Jasper, and then spooned some kind of sauce onto the plate in a perfect crescent shape.

“That was fast,” Jasper said, waiting for Konrad to sit before picking up his knife and fork.

“It’s been cooking all day. It was ready when you were.”

How thoughtful. Jasper cut a piece of meat, not even needing the knife to do so, then dabbed it into the sauce on his plate before bringing the fork to his mouth. He groaned with closed lips as he chewed. Whatever he was eating seemed to melt, flavor bursting on his tongue, lingering when he swallowed. “Oh, wow. Okay. I don’t even know what animal this is, but it’s delicious.”

“Lamb. And thank you.”

Jasper tried not to dissociate during dinner this time, and even tried to make stilted conversation between bites, eased by Konrad being far better at it than him. “Seems like you’ve traveled a lot. Do you have a favorite place you’ve been?”

“Italy,” Konrad replied. “Were I to move again, it would be there.”

“Why Italy?”

“A multitude of reasons. The food, largely, but also the architecture. I saw a great deal of it when I attended culinary school there and feel like I still merely scratched the surface. And what about you? Where is your favorite place, Jasper?”

Jasper didn’t have nearly as sophisticated of an answer, and he took a long gulp of wine before saying, “My house, I guess.”

“Why is that?”

“I… live there?” Jasper gave a tense, apologetic smile. He knew it was a boring answer compared to Konrad’s. “My dogs are there.”

Konrad laughed, and it was genuine, so far as Jasper could tell. “You are endlessly charming.”

Jasper opened his mouth and found he’d forgotten how to make a single word with it. So he closed it and finished his wine instead, looking down at the wood grain on the table. Konrad refilled his glass again.

He was saved from having to form a response, since Konrad cleared their plates to go retrieve dessert. Jasper knew this wine was probably far too expensive to gulp down like he was, but he couldn’t help doing so, craving the warmth that was starting to dull the edges of his discomfort. He didn’t drink often. His tolerance was somewhere between low and non-existent. So by the time Konrad returned, Jasper’s glass was half-empty and he was halfway tipsy.

Konrad put a plate between them with two forks. He turned almost sideways in the booth, crossing one leg over the other and reclining his arm on the back of the seat. “Tell me about your dogs.”

There weren’t many subjects that cut straight through Jasper’s awkwardness, few things he cared about enough to show enthusiasm, but that was quite possibly the single question that could do it. He mirrored Konrad, turning in the booth to face him, propping his elbow on the table. “I never actually planned on having any pets. But one night, I hear scuffling outside my door. And I’m out in the country, and it’s cold, so I think it must be a raccoon. Then I hear a whimper.” Jasper was painfully aware of his accent bleeding through, but he took another sip of wine for comfort. “That was my first stray. And there have been four more since.”

“Five dogs? My, you must never get a moment of peace.”

“They are my peace.” Jasper pressed his lips together, but they formed a smile anyway. “That probably sounds stupid.”

“No more than my peace being in the kitchen,” Konrad said easily.