“He still is,” Jerry said, then he lifted his eyebrows, looking contrite. “He’s typically the one getting into fights these days, though, not me. Usually I’m pretty good at controlling my temper. I just lost it when I saw Ernie coming after you.”
“But what a welcome surprise that you arrived when you did.” Now it was she who wanted to apologize. “I suppose you’re wondering why Ernie was there in the first place…” She trailed off, unsure of how much she should say.
Jerry shook his head. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I told youa long time ago that I’d always fight for you, Bluebird. I just wish I had found you sooner.”
“Me too,” she said. “But you’re here with me now. You and I have all the time in the world.”
She held her breath, worried she’d been too forward, but all her fears were put to rest by the look in Jerry’s eyes. He held up his glass again. “Here’s to that.”
After the waiter arrived to take their orders, they both sat back and stared at each other again.
“I want to hear everything,” she said at last. “Your parents must have been overjoyed to have both you and John home again.”
An unexpected shadow crossed his features. “They never actually saw us. They died of the flu a month before we got there.”
“Oh, Jerry!” Her hand went to her heart. “I am so, so sorry. How horrible for you.”
He frowned at the tabletop. “It was rough. I won’t lie.”
“I hardly know what to say. I can’t even imagine your pain.”
“Not the best news to come home to.” He summoned a smile. “John and I are doing all right, though. We’re running a business together, and it’s doing very well.”
She opened her mouth to ask about that, but the waiter arrived with two small plates of oysters on the half shell and another of lemon slices, which he set in front of them.
“What’s this?” she said, inhaling the buttery sauce.
“Oysters Rockefeller,” said the waiter, then he gave a little bow. “On the house for Mister Bailey and his guest.”
“They know you here,” she said as the waiter left. “I’m impressed. Are you here a lot?”
“They’re a client of mine,” he said, then he looked over at her plate. “Do you like these?”
“I have no idea.”
He smiled. “May I help you with it?”
“Oh yes, please.”
First he squeezed lemon juice over both plates, then he showed her how to loosen the oyster with a fork.
“Some people just kind of swallow them, like this,” he said, tilting his head back and letting the oyster slide into his mouth. Once he chewed and swallowed, he said, “But you might be more comfortable putting the whole thing on your fork.”
She grinned. “I’ll try it your way.”
The oysters were delicious, and she sat back with anticipation when the waiter brought out the main dishes. She’d ordered sugar-glazed ham, and he went with braised short ribs. Both were beautifully served, with a swirl of duchess potatoes on the side.
“This smells wonderful,” she sighed, picking up her cutlery. “How lucky for you that they needed an accountant.”
Jerry set down his fork, looking a little uncomfortable. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No, no. It’s just… You should probably know that I’m not exactly an accountant, though I do some accounting as part of the business.”
She waited, and he took a fortifying drink of his wine.
“When I got home, I found my father’s journal. In it he had a lot of things, but the most noteworthy was what he’d written about the whisky business. He’d been making his own booze for years on the side, but with Prohibition happening, he was suddenly making a lot of money. So when I found the book and read everything he’d written, I felt like he’d left it for me on purpose. Like his legacy, in a way. So the truth is, John and I run a successful whisky business. That’s what Ernie and I were arguing about the other day. He and I have a long, unpleasant history. You know he’s in the business, right?”
