“A terrific choice,” Felicity said. “There’s no way to go wrong. Can I get you another glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.”
“Robert…”
His name on her lips cracked the ice around him, but couldn’t penetrate. “I was drinking the chardonnay.”
“If there’s anything else you need…”
Robert blinked at her.
“I’m done working at the restaurant about ten,” Felicity said. “We could maybe get a drink?”
He stared at her so long that her ears turned pink. “Never mind,” she said swiftly with a laugh. “It was very unprofessional of me. You just looked like you needed to talk, and you wouldn’t guess it by how much I have to say, but I’m a really good listener. I’ll bring your wine.”
She darted away through the tables and when she came back with a bottle and a towel over her arm she was quite remote about pouring his glass full again.
Robert thought he ought to have regrets, but he didn’t...until he took a mouthful of wine and spit it back into the glass.
Felicity, who had been moving to the next table, turned and stared at him with big eyes again. “Is it...no good?”
“It tastes like vinegar,” Robert said, wishing he could lick something to take the terrible taste from his mouth. “Like spoiled vinegar.”
“Is there a problem?” Breck appeared at Felicity’s side.
“There’s something wrong with the wine,” Felicity said in alarm, handing him the bottle.
Breck inhaled deeply and whistled. “That’s turned terribly,” he agreed. “Is this the first glass you poured?”
“It’s the first glass I poured today,” Felicity stammered. “But it was already half empty when I got it.”
Breck looked curiously around the restaurant. They had the attention of most of the other diners, many of them sniffing their own wine cautiously, but no one else seemed affected.
Robert figured he ought to be embarrassed by the fuss, but he only felt frigid. “A new bottle?” he suggested. “Maybe something got poured into this one. Felicity said it was already open.”
“A new bottle, definitely.” Breck took the offending vessel and disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Felicity wringing her towel in dismay.
Pity pierced the ice around his heart. “Do you want to sit? I’m sure this wasn’t your fault.”
Felicity gingerly took the seat across from him. “I have to get right back to work. Chef will have an order up in just a moment, but my knees are jelly. I’m so sorry about the wine.”
“Everything’s fine,” Robert assured her, but Felicity’s look suggested that she didn’t believe him. It seemed like an awful lot of worry for a single glass of spoiled wine.
“This is my first full week working here, did you know that? It’s been an adventure! My luggage is still lost in Mexico City. And we think there may be a ghost here, spoiling the shrimp and apparently the wine…” Felicity trailed off, like something awful had just occurred to her.
“I’m sorry, Robert, that the entire case of the Chardonnay has gone off,” Breck said, appearing at the side of the table with no hint of his usual amusement. “I’ve brought a Pinot Grigio, if that will suit you?”
“The whole case?” Felicity whispered.
“Between my first glass and now?” Robert added. Was there a joke he was missing the punchline to? “That will be fine.”
Felicity stood up abruptly, dropping her towel to the table. “I have to go!” she said, looking desperately at Breck. “I’m sorry, I just have something I need to do right away! Time zones!”
Then she fled the restaurant altogether.
“That was unexpected,” Breck said, watching her go.
But curiosity was apparently an emotion, too, and Robert didn’t want to wonder.
