“So. Sea bream?” Paul suggested, looking at Mia.
“Does that take long to cook?” she asked the waitress, who shook her head and departed.
Paul leaned toward Mia, his lips quirked in a grin.
“I don’t want to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, but if you’re going to open a seafood restaurant, it might be helpful to know how long it takes to cook sea bream. Just a thought,” he said, chuckling.
This time, the silence stretched on and on. Paul looked at Mia and Mia looked at Paul.
“So, you like San Francisco?” Paul asked. “Did you use to live there?”
“No, but I’ve been there several times for work. And it is a beautiful city—I love the quality of the light out there.”
“Now I get it! You trained as a chef at Alioto’s and that’s why you’ve decided to bring their concept over here.”
“Who in the world is Alioto?”
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill them both,”Paul muttered—this time, unfortunately, loud enough for Mia to hear him. “This is on him, a hundred percent. I mean, the least he could do is provide accurate intel.”
“So, this double murder—you meant that figuratively, I hope?”
My God, how thick is this woman? What the hell am I doing here? Seriously, why am I here when I could be at home?“Yes, I can assure you beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have no intention of murdering anyone, but you have to admit the situation is a little off! I must come across as an incompetent chump who doesn’t even know the ins and outs of the project he’s working on . . .”
“Okay. So I’m a ‘project,’ then?”
“Are you doing this deliberately? I don’t mean you personally, but whatever it is that’s brought us both here.”
“Well,” said Mia in a firm tone, hands flat on the table, “I think we’ve covered the essentials, and as I’m not really so hungry anymore . . .”Nope, not hungry. Absolutely starving.“I’ll let you enjoy the sea bream without me.”
“I completely understand how that sounded,” said Paul, blushing. “That was a clumsy thing to say. Please accept my apology. In my defense, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this kind of thing. I think I must have lost my touch. I told him I wouldn’t be any good at it—I should have just flat-out turned him down. And, of course, he never should have left me on my own like this. That was really unfair of him. Both of them.”
“Are you being haunted by ghosts or do the people you keep mentioning actually exist?”
“She’s completely nuts! I’m stuck at a restaurant with a crazy person. There’s no way this project even exists.”
“You’re muttering again.”
“‘They’ refers to my former business partner, Arthur, and his wife, Lauren. You were in contact with them to help design your new restaurant . . . ?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied warily.
“Well, obviously not anymore. But before this disastrous meeting of ours, that was what you were planning, right?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Now I’m confused. Then why are you here?”
“You know, for a while there I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. But I am now. You’re completely mad. Daisy warned me—I should have listened.”
“Well, that’s charming! I don’t see how Daisy could have told you I’m mad, because I don’t even know a Daisy. Well, one Daisy, to be fair, but that was an ambulance, not a person. Scratch that—long story. Who is your Daisy?”
Mia looked around for the waitress so she could leave. This nutcase wouldn’t dare follow her out onto the street with the restaurant staff looking on. Once she got rid of him, she would go back to Montmartre and delete her profile from that damn website, and everything would go back to normal. After that, she would eat dinner at La Clamada, because she was starving to death.
“Why do you think I’m mad?” Paul asked.
“Listen, this is not working out. I was messing around, playing games, and I regret it.”
Paul gave a long sigh of relief.
