by Peter Styles
“My definition of top of the line is usually a frozen pizza with a brand name on it.”
“Ha!” Chris glanced back over at him. “You’re a pizza guy then. I’ll have to remember that.”
Jeremiah couldn’t help but to smile a little. Chris Finley was so well dressed, and his suit fit him like he was born wearing it, but he sounded like a little kid hanging around his first crush and trying to do everything exactly right. It was almost endearing, and not at all what he’d been expecting.
“Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Thinking that we’re already going to have a second date.”
“A guy can dream,” Chris tossed back over his shoulder. He held open the restaurant door, another surprising gesture and one that Jeremiah would have appreciated more if he hadn’t been so intimidated by the new surroundings.
A hostess standing just inside the doorway smiled at him. “Hello, sir. Just one?”
“Two, actually,” Chris said, coming up behind Jeremiah like a savior. “Reservation for Finley in the private dining area?”
“Of course, Mr. Finley, sir. Just one moment.”
She turned around to the counter just behind her and riffled through a book there for a moment before nodding to herself. Turning back around, two menus had magically appeared in her hands. “If you two gentlemen will follow me?”
Jeremiah kept quiet as they were led back to a darkened area petitioned off from the rest of the restaurant. He held his tongue as they were seated at the table and as glasses of water were poured. Specials were explained, although he couldn’t understand half the words. Then their hostess took a step back and said, “And your server will be with you shortly. Thank you for dining with us tonight.”
And he could hold his curiosity back no longer. “How did you manage to get a reservation for the next day in a place like this?”
Chris took a sip of his water. Jeremiah’s gaze went to his lips and the way they pressed against the delicate rim of the glass. “I guess you’re relaxing if you can ask such a forward question, aren’t you?”
His shoulders tensed up, and his cheeks started to flood with heat. “Oh… was that forward? I’m sorry.”
He was rewarded with a soft chuckle, although he didn’t entirely know what that meant.
“Look,” Chris said, “we’re both adults here. And if we’re interested in each other, I don’t think there’s anything that either one of us has a reason to hide. You can ask me anything you want, Jeremiah. I’ll answer the best I can.”
Jeremiah hesitated, but wasn’t this exactly the sort of opening he was supposed to be looking for? “How did you get a reservation so fast?”
“Money,” Chris replied, simply and drily.
“Uh… oh.”
Chris’s hazel eyes danced with amusement and he laughed. “Not really.”
“Oh.”
Another sip of water. Jeremiah watched his date’s Adam’s apple bob slowly in his throat.
“It just so happens that I know they’re looking to upscale and relocate, or otherwise open a new location. I offered them a deal in the future if they got me in here tonight.”
Jeremiah was aghast. “You did that just to go on a date with me? That’s… that’s just absurd.”
“Is it?” Chris shrugged. “A five percent discount really isn’t that much of a difference, and besides. What’s life without a little whimsy once in a while?”
Just then, they were interrupted by a young man in a waiter’s uniform. He smiled at both of them in turn, bowing his head slightly. “Good evening, sirs. My name is Rob and I will be your server for the night. If there is anything you need at all, don’t hesitate to ask. Might I start you off with something to drink?”
Chris glanced at Jeremiah, who just shook his head. “I’ll just stick to water, actually.”
“As you wish.”
“Hold it,” Chris said. “You can have water any other day of the week. Go a little crazy with me tonight. Have a glass of wine or two.”
I’m still not much of a drinker…
But with those hazel eyes watching him how could he refuse? So, he relented. Chris brightened and ordered them two different glasses of wine, the names of which Jeremiah didn’t know. Rob the waiter nodded and left them again as they were, but returned quickly enough with a bottle and two chilled glasses.
One of the wines was red, and the other was white. Jeremiah eyed them with equal skepticism. Their sharp scent wasn’t exactly pleasing; he was even less pleased when Chris moved the glass of red wine over in front of him.
“Isn’t red supposed to be stronger?”
“Well, just try it. You might like it anyway.”
I doubt it.
He was very aware of Chris’s eyes on him as he lifted the glass up to his lips. The scent was overpowering, and the bite of it on his tongue almost made him gag. Struggling, he swallowed the tiny sip and then looked over at Chris with watering eyes.
“Uh… Nope. Still don’t like it.”
Chris laughed. “Alright. Good try, though. No backwash?”
“Gross, no!”
“Then here, let’s switch. See if you like this better. It’s dryer.”
And dry it was, as dry as a liquid could be. It was like licking liquid nitrogen. Jeremiah felt his face screw up into a grimace, words caught between his puckered lips. Shaking his head, unable to speak, he put the glass down.
Chris kept laughing. “You really aren’t a wine guy, are you? Rob, do you mind coming over here?”
Although Jeremiah hadn’t noticed their waiter hanging around, he appeared as if from the shadows. “Yes, sir?”
Chris gestured to their glasses of wine. “These are both very fine, but my friend here isn’t much of a drinker. I apologize for that. Is there anything sweeter? A dessert wine, maybe?”
“Of course!” Rob said. “Let me take these other ones out of your way.”
“No need,” Chris replied. “I’ll drink them both so there’s no need for it to be wasted. Just something lighter for my friend, please.”
“As you wish.”
Jeremiah looked down at his hands, feeling a little frustrated. “There wasn’t any need for that, you know. I could have just drank water. No need to make a fuss.”
Chris gave him an odd look while moving both wine glasses over to his side of the table. “A fuss? Jeremiah, this is his job. It’s what he does. Asking a question or wanting something else is what you’re meant to be doing at a restaurant, so you can enjoy the experience better. You weren’t making a fuss at all.”
“I guess I really just haven’t been in a restaurant like this before. It’s a whole lot different from a Steak ‘n’ Shake.”
Chris smiled and reached across the table to pat the back of his hand. His touch was warm and strangely inviting. “That it is. Maybe if you’ll let me have that second date, we can just order a pizza and hang out somewhere. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
He couldn’t hide the surprise in his expression, mirrored in Chris’s watchful eyes. This was the callous hacker who was Markus’s arch nemesis? The mysterious man who Markus talked about as if he was some sort of hell-spawn who would be nothing but rude and cheap. Well, he definitely wasn’t cheap if these menu prices were anything to go by, and he had been anything but rude. In fact, Jeremiah dared to think that he might have been fed the entirely wrong impression about this other man. He was being sensitive in a way that Markus never was.
That doesn’t make him a good person. It doesn’t mean anything. Markus loves me. I’m just here to get information.
“But,” Chris continued, “I think you’d have a better time if you went a little bit outside your comfort zone sometimes. And where better to start with food?”
“I just…”
“Please.” Chris shook his head and removed his hand as their waiter came back over with a different bottle of wine to pour. “If you don’t feel comfortable with something, just ask me to do it. I’m the owner of a c
ompany, for goodness sake! I do uncomfortable things all the time.”
Jeremiah dared to smile. He was here to collect information but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself, right? “Okay. I guess I can do that.”
“Good!” Chris beamed at him, his hazel eyes lighting up. The beginnings of crow’s feet wrinkled up at the corners of his smiling eyes. “Rob, I think we’ll start off with an appetizer. Actually, can we get two, for the sake of sampling? The duck liver mousse and Arctic Char tartare.”
“Of course, sir. Let me just go put that order in for you.”
Jeremiah made a face. “I’m going to hate both of those.”
“Well, we just won’t order anything with those in it for the rest of dinner,” Chris chuckled. “So then, tell me more about you. Who is Jeremiah No-Last-Name?”
“A college student.” Jeremiah shrugged a little. “Like half of the general population.”
Chris leaned forward on his elbows. “What are you majoring in?”
“Contemporary Literature,” he replied. “I like to read, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m pretty sure I picked up on that. Are you minoring in anything?”
“I am,” Jeremiah said, a little surprised at how easily the conversation was coming. His apprehension had melted away entirely with Chris’s earlier reassurances, and now he felt completely at peace. For the first time, he noticed the soft music being pumped through hidden speakers somewhere in the restaurant. The background sounds of other diners were a perfect bit of ambiance, not at all disruptive. “Business, actually.”
“Really?” Chris straightened up, smiling teasingly. “Maybe I should hire you on to my company.”
“Uh…”
“It was just a joke, honey. Try a sip of your new wine.”
Frowning, Jeremiah looked at the glass at his elbow. He couldn’t smell the wine from here, but he didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. Picking it up, he brought it up to his lips and took a sip. The taste of alcohol was still sharp and prominent, but now it was mellowed by a sour sweetness.
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “That’s good.”
“Good! I’m glad you liked it. And now you can try something else new.”
Their waiter approached again, setting down an array of small plates that all contained miniscule portions of the most unappetizing foods Jeremiah had ever seen. There was a mound of what looked like creamy chicken salad, clearly the liver mousse, and a bowl of vegetable slaw glistening in a vinegary sauce. Cubes of charred bread lay in a delicate pattern on yet another plate, right beside a pink mound of raw fish and apple pieces.
“How does everything look?” Rob asked.
Like vomit.
“Perfect,” Chris replied. “Jeremiah, do you mind if I put in the rest of our orders?”
He hadn’t even looked at the rest of the menu and he didn’t want to hold anything up, so he agreed. He continued to stare at the lumps of disgusting food while Chris spoke with their waiter. Rob moved off again and they were left alone once more.
There was nothing else to do for it. His time had run out. He was going to have to taste these awful offerings.
“Have you ever had mousse before?”
“Chocolate mousse. For dessert.”
“Well, this is a bit different. It should be the same texture, though. Why don’t you try it? Just spoon up a bit on a piece of toast and give it a try.”
Jeremiah let out a light moan as his spoon slid through the gelatinous mass of blended organ. It felt so thick and wrong, like a milkshake that had been left to sit out in the sun and fester for a week. And the sight of it spread on top of a piece of dry toast… he saw the texture of it and almost gagged.
“Come on,” Chris encouraged. He lightly thumped one hand on the table, starting up a soft chant. “Do it. Do it. You can do it.”
I can put Markus’s huge dick in my mouth but not this tiny piece of toast?
Shutting his eyes tightly, Jeremiah opened his mouth and put the piece of toast inside. That, in itself, wasn’t horrible at all. It was when he started to chew and the powerful, meaty smell of the liver started to permeate his nostrils from the inside out. Then his tongue touched it, and it was like the time he ate dog food on a dare. Disappointing and slimy and disturbingly gritty.
Grabbing for a napkin, he brought it up to his mouth and spit out what he’d been chewing.
Chris leaned back in his chair, laughing helplessly as Rob came up, apparently alerted again by some sixth sense. “How is everything?”
Wiping tears from his eyes, Chris said, “Oh, absolutely wonderful! We’re really discovering a lot of things about each other.”
Rob smiled uncertainly and moved away again.
“I’ll make it up to you if you go out with me again,” Chris said, still smiling at Jeremiah as he downed half of the glass of his sweet wine to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth. “We’ll definitely do pizza. And nothing expensive either. Gas station pizza.”
“You really know how to woo a guy over.”
“What else am I supposed to do with my carefree, unstructured days?”
Jeremiah smiled over at him. “Care to tell me more about that? What exactly does the manager of a real estate company do all day?”
He instantly regretted being so straightforward. The joviality in Chris’s gaze instantly melted away, leaving a hard wall that couldn’t be penetrated. “I really appreciate your interest but I talk enough business with my secretary. I’d just like to have a good time with you and not think about work.”
“Fair enough,” Jeremiah said. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. After all, he was the only one here with an agenda. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was prying. I was just curious.”
“Well, I’m more curious about you.” Chris picked up a square of toast and helped himself to some of the liver mousse, savoring the morsel. “What exactly is contemporary literature?”
As Jeremiah talked about books and how writing changed to reflect the time, they slowly worked their way through the appetizer. The tartare tasted like sushi, and the other components weren’t bad at all. Although the liver continued to be a terrible adversary only vanquished by a massive effort from Chris.
Their dinners came, a first course of broth and salad followed by a second of chicken and lamb. Everything was much better now, if a bit rich for Jeremiah, and they settled deeper into their conversation. Jeremiah did most of the talking, urged on by his companion.
“I’ve never talked so much about myself before.” Their meal was winding down, both of them studying the array of available desserts listed at the bottom of the menu. “I feel like I’m running out of words.”
“I doubt that.” Chris broke off the conversation long enough to greet their waiter and order the Tavern’s specialty cookie plate for dessert. “There’s a whole lot more to Jeremiah What’s-His-Name than just who he’s been for the past couple years. We’ve already established that. I’d like to know who Jeremiah was, and where he wants to be in the future.”
What he really wanted was to be married to his soulmate, and to live a happy and uncomplicated life with him. That had been the whole point of this endeavor, but he was now starting to see that it wouldn’t be anywhere near that easy.
Each cookie was as exquisite as only a cookie could be. Despite the fact that they might be sprinkled with pink Himalayan salt, or infused with blood orange syrup and genuine gold leaf, a cookie was always going to be a cookie. Sweet and indulgent, and best eaten after being drowned in a glass of milk.
“I could use some of that salt in my life,” Jeremiah laughed. Rob came up to give them their bill, pausing to listen. “I never thought I’d call salt anything but salt, but that was some next-level stuff.”
Is it possible to get drunk off of one glass of dessert wine?
“I’m so glad you liked it, sir.” Rob smiled down at him. “It really makes a world of difference, doesn’t it? I hear they make lamps from the cr
ystals now.”
“A rock lamp?” Jeremiah asked, curiously. He hadn’t ever heard of such a thing, and now he was going to have to read up on it. “That doesn’t seem like it would be very bright.”
“It isn’t, sir. They’re meant for low-lighting and ambiance, but I’ve heard they also purify the air in a house and help with depression.” Rob took the payment from Chris, who Jeremiah hadn’t even been paying attention to. “I’ll be right back with your card.”
“You didn’t have to pay!” Jeremiah protested. “I… have money.”
Chris patted the back of his hand. “You were busy, and I’m terrible at math. It was easier to just pay for both of us instead of trying to figure out who owed what, and what percentage of cookies you ate. Besides, isn’t that what a gentleman would do?”
“Your secretary must really have her work cut out for her if her boss can’t even do a simple equation.”
Chris chuckled, standing up and offering Jeremiah his hand. “She’s been with me almost since the start. I’d be lost without her. Shall we go?”
“Alright,” Jeremiah agreed. He took Chris’s hand and stood, and this time the other man didn’t let go. His hand feeling hot, a strange sensation running up and down his arm, Jeremiah followed Chris out into the street.
He caught a glimpse of the company car, and the driver reading in the front seat. “There’s my ride.” He caught himself just before pointing. That would have been a dumb move, completely blowing his cover.
“And there’s mine.” Chris jerked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to a car parked at the nearby corner. “I suppose I’ll let you go, but I want to tell you first that I really appreciated you spending time with me tonight. I had more fun with you than I’ve had in months.”
Jeremiah clutched a little tighter at the other man’s fingers, startled to find heat pricking at the back of his eyes. “I had fun with you too. I really did.”
“What do you think my chances are of that second date?”
