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“What is it?”
He opened a cupboard and pulled out a large wooden salad bowl. “Service. And not in a subservient way. To have a cause, a deeply felt cause, and to serve that cause, can be a noble thing.”
“Even when the cause is your narcissistic best friend?”
“We can’t know what’s in people’s hearts that is driving their outward choices.”
“That is...”
He glanced up from where he’d begun dressing the salad and raised his eyebrows.
“An interesting point,” she finished. He really was a student of humanity.
He chuckled and smiled.
“Still, if Bette Midler was my friend, I’d murder her.”
“I’m not sure murder is advised as a friendship-maintenance strategy.” He paused in the middle of laying a place setting in front of her.
“What?”
“All this talk of friendship has me wondering: Arewefriends?”
“Well, we only just got over being low-key at war with each other, so...” She made a face to show she was kidding.
“Right.” He grinned. “Although it’s possible we might have segued into being friends and we just haven’t realized it.”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or in earnest. Either way, his theory wasn’t crazy. “I think you might be right. But I’m going home soon, so it’s kind of a moot point.”
“Do you think we’ll keep in touch?”
“Do you want to?” He wasn’t even sitting that close to her, but she could feel the heat his body was throwing off.
“Doyouwant to?” he asked.
She shrugged, suddenly shy. She did want to. She wanted to text him when something funny happened at work, or something frustrating, or when “Wind Beneath My Wings” came on the radio.
“I would very much like to visit New York someday as a tourist, to be there and be the master of my own schedule,” he said when she didn’t answer the question.
The image of Matteo the man, rather than Mr. Benz the equerry, in New York was oddly appealing. “There’s a lot you can do in New York that’s off the usual touristy beaten path. I could show you some stuff.”
He picked up his fork. “It’s a date.”
Another date. But not really.
“This is delicious,” she said after her first bite. The fish was tender and flavorful, and the simple salad beneath it was dressed with a bright-tasting citrus vinaigrette.
They chatted easily as they ate. It all felt very natural. So apparently they were friends.
She got off her stool when they were done and picked up her plate. “Let me help you clean up.”
“No, no, there’s nothing to do. I’ll return a few things to the refrigerator. You go sit. Turn on the TV and find what you want to watch.Voyageris on Netflix.” He gestured at her empty wineglass. “Can I get you a refill?”
“Thanks, no, I’m perfectly full.”
As she headed to the living area, she reflected on how the evening continued to feel very cozy and indulgent. Being hustled off to a big fluffy sofa so someone else could clean up, getting ready to watch a favorite TV show. There was a shelf in the living area that contained an old-school record player and a great many records. She leaned down to look at them. “I can see that you’re not a Bette Midler fan—or a Britney Spears fan.”
“But I am fond of American music.”
