“Alexander? Of course! The resemblance is unmistakable. You look like a younger version of your uncle.” Ignoring Alex’s obvious impatience, Thierry continued his ebullient rambling, “I’ve known him a long time, you know. He and Byron, so much in love. I’m very sorry for your loss.” Even while offering sympathies, he cast suggestive peeks at Alex.
Sensing an imminent meltdown as Alex’s hostile glares escalated to growling, Paul intervened. “Thierry, we’ve had a long day and we’re starving. Can you send over some appetizers and a bottle of the merlot Uncle Byron liked? My usual table, please.”
Thierry sighed, apparently conceding defeat. “I hope you enjoy your dinner. If you need anything, you have only to ask.”
Paul dipped his head in acknowledgement before he and Alex followed the maître d’ to a table near the back of the restaurant. “I thought you’d appreciate some privacy.” Noticing Alex’s stony expression, he ensured Thierry was out of hearing and then explained, “He means well, he truly does. He just comes on a bit strong sometimes.”
Alex emitted a weary sigh. “Is he always like that?”
“Friendly?”
“No, looking at his customers like they were pieces of meat.”
Paul considered Thierry’s behavior. “Truthfully? I’ve never seen him act so unprofessional before. I know he ended a lengthy relationship recently; maybe he’s a bit on the prowl.” What was the problem? Didn’t Alex live to be fawned over?
The arrival of the waiter with their appetizers and wine kept the conversation light. Alex surprised him by saying, “The same for me, thanks,” when Paul placed his order.
“Uh, no offense or anything; you do realize what I ordered, right?” he ventured.
“Saltimbocca? Of course, it’s one of my favorite dishes, although I prefer the veal version. I’m sure the pork will be acceptable.”
They shared something in common? More than just Alfred and Uncle Byron? Paul might be setting himself up, but he had to ask, though he knew the question would seem absurd coming out the blue. “What’s your favorite book?”
Without missing a beat, Alex answered, “Which genre?”
Paul’s wasn’t quick enough to hide his surprise. “You read?”
Alex’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he appeared to be fighting a laugh. “Well, I may not use the darned thing, but I did earn a law degree. Last I heard, literacy was a basic requirement.”
For the second time that evening, Paul felt his face flame. “I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, “what I meant was….”
“I know what you meant,” Alex said, letting him off the hook. “The truth is I love to read. I’m currently working on a mystery novel about a priest in eighteenth-century Italy.”
“The Monk in the Shadows?”
When Alex nodded, Paul found himself babbling. “You’re kidding, right? Wow, I finished that book a few days ago. It’s one of my favorites. How far are you into it?”
“Brother Rupert has left for Sicily.”
Hmmm… about a quarter into the book. I wonder if he’s found the clues yet.“Who do you think the killer is?”
The waiter brought their salad course. The greens sat ignored and slowly wilting, no match for scintillating conversation.
“How is it you’ve already read a book that hasn’t yet been released?” Alex asked. “I had to pull a few strings to get my copy.”
Paul smiled, warming up to one of his favorite subjects. “Owning a bookstore has its advantages. I get to preview upcoming releases.”
“You own a bookstore?”
“Yup.” Paul couldn’t hide a pleased grin. “I worked at a chain during college for peanuts to learn the business. When I graduated, I found an old building in Bishop in need of major repairs and made a deal.”
Alex opened his mouth and closed it again, staring at Paul with a quizzical expression. “Why didn’t you buy into a franchise and build a new building? Wouldn’t that have been easier?”
“Nothing worthwhile is easy,” Paul replied. “Besides, buying land and building from the ground up cost more than my budget allowed. In the end, I did most of the work myself and saved a fortune.”
Dinner went by quickly after they’d broken the ice, and Paul found himself relaxing and enjoying both dinner and the company. From time to time, he reminded himself that this wasn’t a friendly date and he needed to stay on guard.
After leaving the restaurant, they took their time driving home. It had been one of the most pleasant evenings Paul had experienced in a long time, all things considered. That is, until he parked his car and entered the house, intent on checking on Alfred, having a nightcap, and curling up with a good book.
