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“You greedy little rascal. But fine, I’ll bring some fish.”
“’Kay.”
“Don’t forget your medication, Jay.”
“I won’t. Stop moaning.”
“Did you just say I’m moaning?”
“You do that a lot. I’m a child genius, remember?”
He is. Last year, Jayden skipped two grades, which is why he doesn’t have friends.
If I had the necessary means, I would’ve sent him to one of Europe’s prestigious schools for the youth, but that’s a dream neither of us is capable of entertaining. At least, not now.
Maybe one day, when he’s older, I’ll be able to pick up the dream I’ve been secretly suppressing and I’ll be well off enough to afford a better education for him.
“I’m just reminding you, Jay.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”
“’Kay. Oh, by the way, Nikki. There was a letter in the mail this morning and…I kind of opened it, sorry.”
“What is it about?”
He pauses, gulping audibly through the phone which is not a good sign. “I’ll send it over. I gotta go.”
Then he hangs up, leaving me baffled.
The taxi pulls up in front of the restaurant and I pay the driver before I step out, practically jogging inside.
Katerina’s is a high-end restaurant with a futuristic clean décor that looks kind of tacky instead of revolutionary. If I was responsible for this, I would’ve added a splash of color and removed the loud music that doesn’t allow people to concentrate on what they’re eating.
But that’s just me.
“Menu du jour?” The cashier asks when I stop in front of him. His name is Jonas and he’s a middle-aged man with a kind, welcoming smile. I think he’s used to having dozens of different assistants come pick out Daniel’s meals.
He always gets the “menu du jour” with coffee if he specifically asks for it.
I’m half panting when Jonas shows me the ingredients in the meal.
“Is that parmesan and pesto in the pasta?”
“Yes,” Jonas says.
“I’ll just take a steak then.”
“Are you sure, miss? Mr. Sterling always takes the menu du jour.”
Not when it has parmesan and pesto. I shouldn’t remember that, but I know for a fact that he dislikes them.
“Yes, the steak will be fine. Medium cooked, please.”
“I’ll tell the chef.” Jonas gives me a “you’re out of line” look. “Not sure if she’ll appreciate it.”
“Excuse me?”
