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“Of course. I’ll be back to take your dinner order in a moment.” He walks away.
“He’s quite old for a waiter,” she says, watching him go.
I chuckle. “He’s the owner.”
“Oh!” She looks back at me with renewed admiration at being served by the guy who owns the restaurant.
“What do you think?” I ask, looking around at the spherical lights hanging from the ceiling.
She presses her lips together, her eyes dancing. “Everyone in the room turned to look at us as the owner took us through. You certainly draw attention.”
I laugh. “They weren’t looking at me.”
“What?”
“You look amazing tonight. Every woman here wishes she was you. And every guy is wishing he was taking you home.”
“I… but…” Her cheeks flush. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not.” I look at the menu. “Fancy anything?”
She looks down at hers. “Let’s just say that in that shirt, you’ll be lucky to make it through the evening alive.”
I chuckle. “You like it?”
“I do.” She doesn’t elaborate, and instead blows out a long breath. “I’m too nervous to eat.”
“Aw, why?”
She gives me a You-know-perfectly-well-why sort of look. “Do you think we could share a platter or something?”
“Of course. They do some great ones here.”
“You order for us, then.”
I smile. “Okay.” I gesture to Cesare, who comes up immediately.
“We’ll have the vegetarian platter to share, please,” I say. “And some extra rosemary focaccia.” I’m ravenous, and I could probably have eaten the platter on my own.
“Of course, Dr. Hart.” He nods and leaves us alone.
“Do you come here often?” Sidnie asks. “He seems to know you.”
“Huxley brought me here a few years ago, and now we often come here for business meetings.”
“I can’t believe you were able to get a table.”
“They had a last-minute cancellation.” It’s true, although technically the table should have gone to the next person on their long waiting list, but we spend a lot of money here throughout the year, and Cesare was more than happy to let me have first dibs.
It’s busy, and voices and laughter ring throughout the room, but it’s relatively private in our little booth, and the thought that I’m finally alone with her brings goosebumps out on my arms.
“So tell me about Jamie,” she says. “Is he just your chauffeur?” She looks at my face, then bites her lip. “If you want to, I mean. If I’m not intruding.”
“I know it looks odd.” I turn a fork around in my fingers. “I looked after him when we were young. He says he owes me for it. He’s not just my chauffeur. He’s more like a personal assistant. He and Nadine make sure my life runs smoothly—her in the office, him outside it, at the club, at home. Sometimes, when I’m caught up in my work, I forget about everything else. Like you said, the hyper-focus kicks in. Jamie makes sure I eat and drink, and exercise, and tries to get me to sleep, although that doesn’t tend to work.”
I can’t explain the whole reason for our arrangement, and I know it sounds odd. But Sidnie just smiles and says, “It must be great having someone watching out for you like that.”
“It is.” I’m glad she understands. “You look lovely tonight, by the way.”
