“And you delivered.” Gavin starts looking around for someone to refill his glass.
“Darn tootin’.”
“Excuse me?” That stops him from his search. “Did you just say ‘Darn tootin’?”
“I said it.”
I’m saved from further inquiry into my word choice by the server bringing out the dishes. They bring everything out family style, so the center of the table is soon covered in warm, delicious-smelling food.
“I was so happy you asked the staff to make butter chicken.” Gavin heaps a large portion onto his plate.
“Obviously. Everyone loves butter chicken.” I take a bite to prove my point. “What was so important that you had to miss the chaat?”
“You’ll see tomorrow. And I see you have one right there on your plate.” He inches his right hand closer to my plate.
I slap my hand over his. “I don’t mind using the same knife for two different courses, which means I will use the spare one on you.”
He crinkles his nose. “One knife, two courses? You heathen.”
“We’re having Indian food. I won’t even need one knife tonight.”
“Are you going to use both of them on me then?” He’s amused at the exchange, proving my earlier assessment that he’s a masochist.
“I’m just saying Icould, that’s all.”
Gavin retracts his hand, and I cave. I pick up the chaat and put it on his plate. There’s butter chicken and garlic naan in front of me, so I won’t be wasting any stomach room on anything that isn’t the magic orange sauce and the warm buttery garlic carbs anyway.
Gavin winks at me as he pops it in his mouth whole. I watch his strong jaw work on the food, and then he swallows.
“This food is not very spicy.” He casts accusatory eyes my way.
“Obviously. I asked the staff to go easy. I told them that your delicate pale taste buds couldn’t handle all that flavor all at once.” I rub his arm in comfort.
“Bold accusation coming from you.”
“All’s fair in food and war.”
“And auctioning.”
“And auctioning,” I say.
Nate gets my attention from across the table. “Priya, I’ve been looking through some of those recommendations you gave me and they’re amazing.”
“I bet it’s not the art he thinks is amazing,” Gavin murmurs under his breath, in my direction.
I kick him under the table without looking away from Nate. “I hope we can get you in the auction room one day soon. There’s nothing like the energy of a live sale.”
“I think I will. As long as you’re there to help me get my bearings.”
“Of course.”
“Of course,” Gavin mocks under his breath.
“Harrison, please let me know if you have any questions about the proposal I sent you,” I say. The vacation is almost over—only two more days—and Harrison seems like he wants to draw this out until the last minute.
“Or if you have any questions for me,” Gavin gets out after swallowing his bite of chicken.
“I’m still reviewing both of them. You’re both very talented.”
