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‘I think this must be the best pudding I’ve ever had in my entire life.’
‘It’s a chocolate marquise. There’s no flour. Just chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs, cream. You know, I love to watch you enjoy things.’
‘Jack, this is amazing,’ she gushes. ‘Here, take a bite,’ and she puts a spoonful of the pudding into my mouth.
She’s right, it’s incredible. The rich and decadent chocolate is just right and it’s the perfect way to top this amazing meal we’ve just had. I nod my own head in agreement. ‘You’re right, it’s very good.’
‘All my life, I’ve been eating completely sub-par puddings when I could have been having this.’
‘It’s the difference between good and incredible.’
‘Mmmm,’ she agrees as she delights in another bite.
‘It’s funny how we have all of these traditional recipes, which truly are magnificent if they’re just made with real, simple ingredients, and yet we buy the ready-made versions with our food shops or in a takeaway, and it ruins the palette. You’re then eating these appalling versions of, say, treacle tart, or blackberry and apple crumble, or a steamed pudding, thinking it’s an okay dessert when, in fact, they are allspectaculardesserts.’
‘Jack, I should’ve known you were foodie after that amazing breakfast you made us at your place.’
I laugh, a deep throaty laugh that catches me off guard. ‘I would never describe myself as a foodie. I just appreciate things done well. Purposefully and with intent. You can take a mediocre pud and make it something extraordinary.’
‘That’s how I feel about art. That someone can use paints and paintbrushes to create masterpieces astounds me. I think that’s why I appreciate it so much. It’s a treasure to bear witness to such things, and my life’s goal to share them with others.’
There it is again. Her passion for life. This woman sparks something deep inside that I never thought I’d get back again. Here I am, talking about my love of good food and fine dining. If anything, her thirst for beauty, the sublime, not only inspires me to do the same, but makes me want to put my own spin on it. My imagination is set in motion, coming up with ideas on how to save and maintain the restaurant.
‘You are amazing. I hope you won’t take it the wrong way when I say that all I can think about right now is how I want to caress every single inch of you.’ We’re sitting side by side in the booth and I nuzzle her neck as she sips the last of her drink. ‘And when I say every single inch of you, I mean every single inch of you.’ She chokes slightly on her drink but recovers quickly. She edges even closer to me, like she wants me to whisper more sweet nothings. Only, I have no more honeyed words or flattery to give her. Just filth and all the ways I want to defile her.
I set aside my vivid thoughts and, looking her in the eyes, I say, ‘That dessert was fucking marvellous. Finish your drink, Leyna. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
I look at myself in the mirror of the toilet room, guilt starting to gnaw at me.What the hell are you playing at?I ask myself.Have you completely forgotten why you’re here in the first place? You didn’t plan a three-day holiday just to fuck Leyna all you could. Or did I?I argue with myself as I head back to the restaurant. I’ve not seen any of the staff I wanted to talk to in the first place, other than Julian, nor do I care. Again, not a good sign. Tomorrow night I’ll take her to my other restaurant and assess the situation there.
Just then my phone rings and I’m surprised to see it’s Kenny, my investigator, who I haven’t heard from in a long time. It’s not the best time to take his call, but I take it anyways.
‘Hi Kenny, didn’t expect to hear from you. How are things going?’
‘I wish I had better news Jack.’
My heart sinks. ‘You can’t start a conversation off like that, Kenny. Come on.’
‘I didn’t want you to think I’d given up looking but my leads are drying up and I’m calling to see how long you want me to keep for that painting.’
‘As long as it takes, you know that. If I’d been impatient I would have given up years ago. If you still have leads, clues, anything then I’ll pay you to keep searching.’
‘Thought you’d say that.’
‘Kenny, I’ve been looking this long, I’m not giving up now.’
‘Jack, I feel like I’m just stealing your money at this point.’
‘Don’t worry about any of that. You’ve been a good friend and you know I’m so grateful that you’re doing this for me. I’m more than happy to compensate you for all the time you’ve put into this.’
‘Jack...’ he pauses. ‘What’s it been, four, five years now I’ve been doing this? It’s time to face facts...’ I could hear the dejectedness in his voice, but I couldn’t have him lose hope. There’s no one else even knows what that painting looked like. I can’t have Kenny throw in the towel yet. I can feel the desperation in my voice as I simply say, ‘Please.’
Kenny’s known me since I was a kid. A friend of my dad’s and now a friend of mine. He understands the years of built-up sentiment that go into that single word. My plea.
‘Christ, alright Jack. I’ll keep looking.’
The conversation has dampened my mood and I don’t want Leyna to see any of it. I plaster a goofy grin on my face and walk to greet her.
‘Shall we get going?’ I say to her.
