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“My stepfather for want of a better word.”
She shakes her head with distaste. “For some reason, mom loves him. I’ve always found him to be a fool.”
“Then we agree on another thing.”
I raise my glass to her, and she says with astonishment,
“You know him?”
I nod. “He is the man I am meeting with. My business in Australia if you like. He is the middleman to a diamond operation I am keen to do business with and they only negotiate through him.”
I chuckle, “Gleb shares your opinion on the man. You have that in common at least.”
“Then he’s a good judge of character.”
She looks concerned.
“Why would he want me dead, though? It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, but if it was him, we will soon find out.”
“I guess.” She glances up as the waiter appears with two plates of beef wellington, dauphinoise potatoes and steamed vegetables.
He produces a bottle of the finest red wine and pours two large glasses before retreating as silently as he came.
Serena smiles and sniffs appreciatively.
“Perhaps you should introduce me to your chef. When I’ve finished with you, I may run away with him.”
She grins as I say with amusement. “You could try, but he prefers Gleb.”
“No way.’’
Her eyes are wide, and I shrug. “I share your disbelief. Gleb is in love with business, and I’m surprised they find the time to be together.”
“At least someone is happy, I suppose.”
She lifts her cutlery, more intent on sampling the food than making further conversation with me and as I eat, I watch her, taking in every detail of her pretty face. Her beautiful, wicked, soul shattering face that will be forever imprinted on my memory. Yes, I realized there was something incredible about this woman when I first set eyes on her. I must remember to thank God for delivering her to my certain brand of evil.
* * *
We finishour meal and decide against dessert, and as we leave the restaurant, she says with a soft smile. “Where next?”
“Perhaps you would like to compliment the chef and check him out at the same time.”
I raise my eyes and she laughs. “That sounds like a plan.”
We walk toward the galley hand in hand, and it feels nice. A simple act that I never appreciated the pleasure of before.
As we reach it, the aroma hits us as soon as we open the door and she gasps, “Okay, it’s official. You have ruined me, Alexei. How can I ever travel another way again?”
It makes me laugh as she heads into the galley, and I introduce her to Marcel, the Italian chef. Serena speaks to him in fluent Italian, and he is obviously happy to oblige and for a moment I watch as they move around the space as he points out several things, occasionally stopping to sample some of his work and discussing the merits of the ingredients he uses.
I love watching her as she listens with interest to what he says and interjects, no doubt with suggestions from her grandmother’s vast knowledge.
I lean against the wall and relish my uninterrupted study of her because there appears to be nothing I don’t like or admire about this woman.
They finally stop talking and as she heads my way, her face is lit with pleasure, and I shake my head. “Obviously, food is the way to your heart.”
