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She listened to him while she tasted the exquisite stuffed vegetables, the rich dense flavor of the garlic smoked bacon, the light spinach and cheese found in the pastry wrapped envelopes.
"Food has always been important to Greek culture and it's been immortalized in many great literary works," he explained. "But eating is mostly informal, so that it becomes an art that pervades the everyday." His fingers took a tiny hollowed cherry tomato with pine nuts and cheese to her lips.
"I know which flavor of Greece I'd like to taste every day." She blew him a suggestive kiss then sipped her wine to hide her smile.
He feasted on her image, the wine arresting each moment in a capsule of pine-needled memory. He wanted this to last and last. "Abby, I shall forget to eat at all if you continue to make such erotic comments."
Her laughter made him feel warm.
The main course arrived. Stefano himself continued to serve them, but astutely let them be private too.
"What a feast, a real banquet," Abby said while he served the main course.
"A beggar's banquet," Stefano replied. "It is the restaurant philosophy. These are the everyday flavors of Greece." He told her how the baked red mullet was cooked, with lemon and olive dressing, and why the grilled aubergines, tiny potatoes and shallots braised in balsamic vinegar were the right accompaniment.
Stefano liked her, Zac noticed as they chatted. It made him wonder if his parents might like her too, but then he couldn't imagine anyone not liking Abby. Adrianna would, for sure, he had no doubt about that whatsoever. They were kindred souls.
"What are you smiling about so secretively?" she asked when Stefano had gone.
"Sorry." I'm trying to work out what my parents would make of you. No, he couldn't tell her that. And why was he even thinking like that? It wasn't something he usually did when he got involved with a woman. Was it the strange juncture of their lives though his mother's business, or something else? Once again he felt like rattling his cage of circumstance, or throwing a spanner in the works.
She was still looking at him, waiting. "You're a mysterious man, and that's one of the things I like about you, but my curiosity sometimes gets the better of me."
"What are you curious about?"
"Well, have you got a wife and family you haven't told me about."
He laughed. "No. Why do you ask?"
"You seemed far away and yet you were smiling, I wondered if I was a bit on the side."
"Abby you're far too all absorbing to be a bit on the side." It hadn't even occurred to him that she might think that, but his mind had been following a completely different path, he realized, and chastised himself for being so blinkered.
"Am I your bit on the side?" he asked, cautiously.
"No." She smiled.
He was relieved, yes, but it didn't make him feel much better.
* * * *
Zac was pensive this evening. He might deny it but she could see he was. The shadows cast by a small copper encased lamp lit him strangely from above. Abby had to touch him to reassure herself that he was there.
When they were sitting over dark coffee and a platter of rich, syrupy baklava, she noticed that his eyes seemed to hold a dark question. It was as if he was trying to decide whether to walk away from her forever, or draw her into his aura never to be released. Her hand went to his when the thought occurred to her. "I feel as if you're going to walk away from me."
"Perhaps you read minds?"
She froze.
He smiled. "I have to go to Paris later in the week."
Her body clenched with the sudden feeling of loss caused by his words. She sank back in her chair, unable to voice any objection, but feeling deprived of him already.
He reached into his pocket and drew out some photos. "It's a club in Paris, I'm thinking of buying it." He passed her the photos. "I have this idea, about a chain of Hubs, one day."
She looked at them with interest, glad that he had included her. There were a couple of interior views and an exterior. Inside she saw a cave-like design of interlocked rooms, bars and a dance floor. It was full of character, intrinsically Parisian in style. Outside, the entrance was discreet but caught the eye with its art nouveau ironwork. It was a fascinating little property, one that she would be pleased to look at herself, on behalf of a client. She smiled when she found herself wondering whether he needed a full time investment advisor.
"I think it would be great investment," she murmured, as she looked over the images, roll-calling all the excellent features that caught her eye. "European cities are having a renaissance in the holiday market, weekend breaks and so on. Character venues will always appeal."
