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Chapter 28
Jack
After a morning spenttravelling and an afternoon spent lovemaking, both Leyna and I are ready to eat something more substantial than tea and biscuits. And while I’m eager to show her the restaurant, I’m less eager to meet with Julian or Daryl. Less than eager isn’t even close to how I’m feeling. I’m absolutely dreading dealing with whatever problem has been lurking here for some time. I suppose that’s why it’s now a problem.
I swap thoughts of my stepfather’s restaurant business swirling down the pan in favour of the gorgeous woman clinging to my arm. I’ve run through this scenario so many times. In my head, I’m already imagining the foods I want to watch her try, some, I expect—I hope!—for the first time. I’ve watched her pull faces and savour dishes over and over in my imagination. I’ve seen the pure delight as she tastes unfamiliar combinations, rich and silky combined with sweet and salty. Now, finally, I’ll get to see her delightful reactions for real, and not some imaginary constructs from my starved, lonely soul.
The host, although heshouldknow, has no idea who I am. I tell him I have a table booked. I know exactly where I want to sit with Leyna and I can already see that the table is available. It’s always available because it’s my table. It’s where I get to sit, away from the rest of the crowded restaurant. It’s kept available for me in case I ever show up.
It won’t be long before the greeter realises who I am and soon the entire staff will know the owner is here tonight. They won’t be happy not to have had any notice, and I know they’ll try their hardest to please me, but there’s a method to my madness. I don’t want any of them to know I’m here until they have to because I want to see what’s going on in this restaurant.
As I look around, I’m dismayed. It should be busier than this. It’s midweek and it’s dead. Every table should be full, or nearly full. At one time, there would have been a line out the door. I tell myself it’s November and the middle of the week, but it shouldn’t matter. I hush those thoughts as we are seated at the large circular booth. Tucked away in a private spot, a secluded spot for just the two of us.
‘Nice table,’ Leyna says.
I smile at her. She’s always beautiful but tonight she’s radiant. Her long hair looks more auburn than brown as the strands catch the warm lights of the restaurant. She takes off her blazer to reveal her dress that is so tight it leaves little work for my imagination. A rush of admiration courses though me—I get to spend all evening just staring at this beautiful woman sitting next to me. I must be the luckiest man alive. She slides over, making space for me to sit beside her in the booth.
A server approaches us and asks us what we’d like to drink. I quickly scan the drinks menu.
‘Something light, perhaps? Let’s try the Malagouzia?’ I look over to Leyna inquiringly and she smiles.
‘Yes, sir. And to start?’
‘The mezze platter please.’
The waiter walks away, having no clue that I’m his boss. Nobody else seems to have realised either. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been here in the last five years.
‘What did you just order?’
‘Just wait. I’m sure you’ll love it. You like new things, don’t you?’
She smiles. ‘I am definitely a believer in the saying that we should all try something once.’
The waiter returns with our white wine and we both take a sip, the crisp, lemony liquid cool and refreshing.
‘So, I take it you’ve been here before?’ Leyna asks. ‘You seem to know the place.’
Yes, I’ve been here before.I’m not ready to tell her the whole story though. I simply say, ‘Used to come here with my stepdad. That was a long time ago.’
She nods, understanding. She always understands without me having to go into any detail. I hold her hand and look away, taking a sip of the refreshing wine.
‘You know,’ she interrupts my thoughts, ‘I don’t think I went to a restaurant like this until I was in my twenties.’
