“Yes.” He left it at that. They stared at each other for a full second.
Dilaver didn’t appear to hear the undercurrent of their conversation as he looked up from the menu. “This is Hawk. He hasn’t eaten a good American meal in months, Amber. That’s why I brought him here.”
Amber nodded. “What would you like to eat? Since we don’t do lunch, Dragan, you might have to wait a little longer than usual.”
“That’s all right. Why don’t you join us for the meal?” Dilaver leaned forward, his big hands flat on the table. “I need some information.”
Amber regarded him for a moment. “Would you like to try our meatloaf? We’re in the middle of getting some prepared for tonight.”
“Sure, sure, whatever. Don’t forget the beer.”
“And you, Mr…. Hawk? Anything you particularly miss from the States?”
“Surprise me,” Hawk said softly. “I’m sure it’ll be something I like.”
She tilted her head. “What if it isn’t?”
He smiled. “I have a bet riding on the fact that you will get it just right. Anything you cook up will be fine.”
Amber blinked and turned to Dilaver. “I take it back. I like him better quiet.”
Dilaver winked at Hawk and gestured suggestively as Amber walked away. “Ona je lepa devojka.Told you.”
Hawk looked after at her departing figure. He knew she was listening. “Beautiful all over,” he agreed. He caught the glare of her blue eyes just before she slipped into the back room, and resisted from grinning. Would she?
Amber stalked into the study. Lily turned from the two-way mirror through which she had been studying Dilaver and Hawk.
“So, you finally get to talk to him,” she said, smiling. “He’s yummy, isn’t he?”
He was devastatingly so, especially when he looked at her as if he had seen her naked before, but Amber wasn’t in the mood to sigh about Hawk McMillan’s good looks. He had issued yet another challenge and she couldn’t find a way out of it.
Llallana followed her through the connecting door that led into the kitchen. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Tina, get the gentleman in the private area their choice of beer,” Amber told one of her waitresses. She wrote onto the order sheet and clipped it above the cooking area. “Those are the orders, Ona. Prepare the meatloaf.”
Llallana leaned against the refrigerator. “He’s gotten to you.”
“That man’s too much into games,” Amber said.
“Ha! Says the one who started it all!”
Amber grabbed chunks of hamburger meat from a container and started kneading it fiercely. Lily was right, of course. She started all this. She felt like growling. Ona came over, steadying the piece of order paper to read what she had written before heading off to the pantry.
“So what are you making him? Such a big man…hmmm…must have a voracious appetite. From what I overheard, he seems to trust your skills.”
When Amber said nothing, Lily came closer. She bit her lip. Her friend wasn’t stupid; she lived on the edge most of the time and could pick up signals most people didn’t. She knew it would be just a matter of time before Lily found out the source of her irritation. She did, because she heard the familiar chuckle just behind her.
“Oh my God.” Llallana was trying not to laugh too loudly. “Oh, he’s too much.”
“Shut up!” Amber made a face, shaping the meat into a thick hamburger. She didn’t stop Lily from snatching the order off the clip above her. “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“5MW/MTL/PF/18/69…that’s what he wrote!” Llallana leaned weakly against the side counter. “He…ordered…from the menu!” She broke up laughing again. “Oh, I love him. He ordered his next meal. That was the secret code?”
Amber released a frustrated growl. Last night, Hawk McMillan had somehow gotten to look at the order pad and saw the way her girls wrote down orders from customers. He also seemed to have taken the time to check out her menu, because he was very specific with his instructions. Number 5 from the menu was the house steakburger, with a special sauce. A Number 5 Medium Well/Mayo Tomato Lettuce/Pomme Frittes/Number 18 was Coca-Cola. Of course she had understood the code—she saw variations of the same thing every day for the past four years. She knew what it was the moment she saw what he had written on her thigh. As for the other number…
“It isn’t that funny,” she muttered, turning on the fryer.
“I think he’s cool as hell. It’s a great way to get revenge for what you did.” Llallana shook her head. “I think you’ve met your match, sweetie.”
