"There they are," I say as we near their table.
I sit down on one of the two empty sides of the table and when she hands me the menu, I thank her.
As soon as she walks away, Carolina picks up the bottle of wine and pours some into my glass. "You must need a drink after what happened. Was it dreadful? An entire night alone with that woman!"
I stiffen slightly at her words, then do my best to look totally breezy. "Actually, it was surprisingly fun."
"Really?" Markos says with a mischievous grin. "Just how fun are we talking?"
"Not like that, youtonto del culo." I pick up my glass of water instead of the wine.
"If you weren't doing that, what did you do?"
"We made dinner, then played poker most of the evening." My mind flashes to her sitting in her robe in the candlelight, laughing as she rakes all the trail mix towards herself.
The gleam returns to Markos’s eyes, and he opens his mouth, but I anticipate what he's going to say. "No, not strip poker. The regular kind."
In my head, I hear Nora telling Harrison that, and it makes me want to laugh. But smiling or laughing at this particular moment would be a disaster. This is one of those situations where one must keep his cards close to his vest. I certainly can't have my dinner companions suspecting that there's a possibility of anything happening between Nora and me, especially as it would force me to admit three things I have no intention of doing: 1) my brother was right about Nora, 2) I'm not immune from being bitten by the romance bug, and, 3) I'm the world's biggest hypocrite, who is pulling a “do what I say and not what I do” thing on everyone participating in the competition.
Our server arrives at the table. He's a short man dressed in a white button-up shirt and black pants. "I'm Zak. I'm your server this evening,” he says to me. “Your dinner companions have already ordered, but I can get the kitchen to rush yours so your food will all be ready at the same time."
"Only if it's not too much trouble. If it is, waiting while they start their meals seems like a just consequence for being late."
"Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"
"I haven't. What do you recommend?"
“Let me start by saying everything on the menu is terrific, of course. Our world-famous head chef, Emma Banks, personally created each item and, in fact, is credited around the globe as the inventor of the Caribbean Asian food craze,” Zak says. “My personal favorite appetizer is the roti stuffed with stir-fried sweet potato and pineapple chutney. For a main, I suggest the spicy citrus tuna tiradito with sliced red onion, pickled jalapeños, truffled shishito glaze, and crunchy ramen noodles."
Picking up my menu, I hand it to him. "You sold me, Zak. Thank you." As soon as he leaves, I notice Markos and Carolina are both wearing matching dumbfounded expressions. "What?"
"Did something happen to you on that island?" Markos asks.
"Like what?"
"Like a lobotomy?" Carolina says with a nasty laugh.
"What makes you say that?" I ask, even though I know exactly why they’re reacting this way.
"First off, you're not wearing a tie, which is very un-Theo of you," she says. "And second, rather than spending twenty minutes analyzing the menu, you decide to trust the waiter’s word?"
"I believe the proper term now is server, and why not trust him?” I answer with a shrug. “He knows the menu far better than I ever will."
Needing to steer the subject away from the new and improved Theo, I pick up the small beverage and dessert menu propped up beside the candle holder, flip through it, and land on a picture of an attractive young woman in a chef's jacket. Next to it is a brief biography, including her awards. It also mentions her husband. "This is interesting. The chef is married to the author of theClash of Crownsseries, Pierce Davenport."
"Really?" Markos says. “That's my all-time favorite TV series."
"Did you never read the books?"
"I started with the TV series and heard the books were basically the same, so I never felt the need."
"That's a shame. They’re so much better than the show," I say. Turning to Carolina, I say, "How about you? Are you a crown head at all?"
"No. I can't stand all that fantasy stuff."
Nodding, I say, "Well, hopefully his wife's work will be more to your taste."
"Strange that she still works, don't you think?" Carolina says.
