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I rolled my eyes. “Just shut up and feed me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you alright…”
A few minutes later, we walked into Gustoso. The maître d’, an older man with a thick head of silver hair, smiled when he saw Beck and rushed over to shake his hand.
“Ah…Beckham. How are you, my friend? It’s been too long.”
“I’m good, Enzo. How are you?”
The man patted the belly hanging over his pants. “Still fat, so still happy. People are only skinny when they’re sad, right?”
Beck smiled. “You look good. How’s Allesia?”
“Good. She’s off tonight. It’s her book club night. Though I thinkbookis secretly American forwinebecause she comes home tipsy.” Enzo looked to me. “But enough about my old bat of a wife. Tell me who this beautiful creature is.”
“This is Nora. Nora, this is Enzo Aurucci. He owns the place.”
Enzo held up a finger. “Part owner only now, eh?”
Beck smiled. “That’s right.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll get the best table in the house set up.”
“Thanks, Enzo.”
I looked around the restaurant. Brick walls and ancient beams gave the small place a warm feeling. A big fireplace took up half of one wall, and the dim lighting cast a romantic glow over the cozy setting.
“I can see why this is your favorite. It’s very romantic. Is it your go-to place to warm up your concubines? You must come here a lot if they remember your name.”
“Enzo and his wife are clients,” Beck explained. “They owned a few restaurants here in the city and wanted to partially retire, so I helped them sell to a big conglomerate. Now they go to Italy for two months in the winter and only work three days a week. I’ve only ever brought Jake and Gram here. It’s Gram’s favorite restaurant.”
“Oh…”
“You like to think the worst of me, don’t you? I ask you to dinner, it’s because I want to get laid. I bring you to a place where I think the food is good, and you think they know me because I’m taking women out five nights a week. Maybe you were right… Once was enough.”
Now I felt bad. I was just teasing, but I hadn’t thought about how my comments sounded. “I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk.”
Enzo came back and showed us to a table. It was a high-backed, curved booth seat that faced out to the restaurant, so we sat shoulder to shoulder and not across from each other. Enzo insisted we allow him to bring us his favorite dishes. Then he came back with a delicious bottle of wine and basket of warm bread.
I looked over at Beck. “Whenever I see couples sitting like this, next to each other and not across, it seems odd. I guess usually it’s because there are two other seats and the couple chooses to sit together in one. But this still seems strange to me.”
Beck motioned to the roaring fireplace to the right. “Probably so both people can enjoy the ambiance.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He picked up the breadbasket and held it out to me before taking a piece for himself. “So I spoke to the oncologist on the phone this morning. He said he’s already seeing some shrinkage, even after only four treatments.”
“I know. He came in to speak to Louise right before you and Jake arrived.”
“He mentioned maybe extending—”
I put my hand on Beck’s arm. “Do you think we could have dinner without talking about illness and treatment? Being in the hospital oncology ward all this week, seeing sick kids and stuff, I’m sort of in need of something more upbeat.”
“Yeah.” Beck nodded. “I get it. That’s a good idea.”
I tore off a piece of my bread and dipped it into the bowl of seasoned oil and vinegar. “Thanks. Happy topics only. So what should we talk about?”
Beck shrugged. “We can talk about how good I was in bed?”
