Caspian beams at the praise. He’s worked really hard at this over the last couple weeks, and it’s turned out amazing. Bel complained about overeating these a couple days ago when he was prepping the recipe. Now I get it. I’ll never get enough of it.
“Are you going to sit?” she asks him, reaching for the salad first.
“Momentarily,” he assures her. “I’ll bring everything over and explain the dishes first. Once I sit, I won’t want to stand back up.”
She nods, digging into her food with vigor. I do the same, and this is the best fucking salad I’ve ever eaten. I’m not even sure how Cas managed to do all this, but he deserves that spot at the restaurant 100%. He’s made me promise not to meddle further, but he must know I don’t need to. They’ll pay him whatever he asks and then some to get this stuff on the menu.
As he makes trips back and forth to the kitchen, arms full each time, he explains the rest of the dishes.
“Mike, if I remember correctly, Bel mentioned that you’re a vegetarian?” he asks, setting down a massive bowl of lemony pasta and what might be the largest pizza I’ve ever seen.
Mike pauses mid-chew and swallows, nodding vigorously, “I am. I’m a vegetarian food critic, in fact.”
“Oh,” Caspian pales, “Well, these are both meat-free dishes, though not entirely plant based. This is a white wine and lemon sauce on the fettuccine and a margherita pizza.” His nerves show all over his face, his need to impress Bel’s friends making his insecurity obvious.
“He made all of it from scratch,” Bel gushes, pride filling her features as she keeps her eyes on him, “even the mozzarella!”
“No kidding?” Charlie asks, taking another piece of bread from the center, “That’s incredible.”
“Thank you,” Cas smiles before grabbing the last of the dishes from the kitchen. “Baked lemon and herb salmon and Spicy Italian Meatballs.”
When he does finally sit, Bel squeezes his leg under the table, showing her excitement and pride in him again. His grin is contagious, and her responding one is nothing short of radiant.
Everyone is blissfully silent for a time; even Isla and Eamon stow their animosity long enough to eat and drink the exquisite spread before us.
“This is delicious,” Mike says after a few minutes, mouth still full, “Where did you learn to cook?”
Caspian takes a swig of his wine to give himself a moment’s pause before responding, “Oh, I lived in Italy for several years and learned the way of their people. Food is an integral part of their culture.”
“Wow, and you’re just keeping these skills to yourself and your paramours?” he raises a brow in good-natured teasing, “How selfish.”
“He’s trying to get a spot as the head chef here at the hotel restaurant,” Bel explains, eager to compliment Caspian, “I think he’s got a good shot at it, though admittedly I know nothing about how that stuff works.”
With a nod, Mike agrees, “If you serve them this, you’re a shoo-in. And you’ve got at least one positive reviewer already.” He grins at him before turning his gaze on me, “And what is it you do?”
Oh. This is the interrogation. I was hoping to avoid this.
“I ummm, I deal,” I sputter, and at the strange reactions around me, I realize what I left out, “Poker. Not drugs.” At my clarification, everyone breaks into laughter.
“So you work here?” Charlie asks, “In the casino where you live?”
Imhmmin agreement, taking another bite to calm my nerves. Not being permitted to use my abilities tonight has been an absolute pain in my fucking ass.
“What is that like?” Isla asks, “Don’t you get sick of it?”
“No,” I answer honestly, “I never get bored. Sure, I have a few regulars, but for the most part, Vegas gets new people all the time. I meet folks from all over the world, take their money and then they move on.”
After more scattered laughter, Charlie asks, “So you like it that way? New people all the time, new experiences?”
His question seems innocuous enough, but the dubiety coloring his mood makes me wary, “I suppose so.”
Chewing and swallowing to feign a casual mood, he continues, “And this thing you’re doing with Bel, this is a new experience for you.” Not a question.
I blink a couple times before answering, “Yes? I mean it is new, yes. But it’s not athing.”
“Then what is it?” he probes.
“Charlie, give the poor guy a break,” Mike nudges him with an elbow.
