Unknown Diners

Chapter Nine

"Nothing much. It seems we weren't in the mood this evening for abysmal service, a switch and boost wine list and exorbitant prices for packaged food," Lorne replied calmly to the question. The manager had been called by the hostess who had been called by the waiter as he had tried to get the bill so he could pay it. "It's nothing you've done. I'm sure it's far beyond you — in more than one way."

"But you've barely started. Is something wrong?"

He stared at the manager, doubting his listening and comprehension skills. "Your service, presentation and quality finished us before we had much of a chance to start."

They moved to the reception desk, the manager punched some buttons, tore the tape from the printer and read it. "But you're leaving a hundred and fifty-two dollars worth of food on the table. We can get you a doggy bag. A box."

"We're leaving fifty dollars worth on the table, less than that, including the wine. We'll take the wine. A rough red will do fine with our pizza."

"We can adjust the price if you're unhappy. I need to call and —"

"No need to expend any energy on it. That wouldn't match the work ethic we've seen." He glanced up to see Catherine was well into photographing all the framed reviews. He pulled out four fifties. "I need a receipt for expenses, for taxes."

The manager tried to generate a receipt from the interface, then buttonholed a waiter to do it for him. Catherine came over to join Lorne, nodding as she approached, then sidled up beside him, taking his arm.

"Tip?" The waiter looked up from the screen.

"Change please."

"But for the service?"

"Already far overpaid."

The manager elbowed the man, caught his eye and nodded. The waiter handed Lorne forty-eight dollars, then tore off the receipt and held it out as he droned his memorised prattle: "Thank you for dining with us. Come back soon. Tell your friends about Molly's Beach."

Lorne led Catherine toward the exit arm-in-arm and listened to the same spiel again as the door was opened for them.

He nodded to the doorman. "Thank you, that's a fine idea. We'll spread the word."

"Are you going to?" Catherine asked as they walked along the street looking for dinner.

"Somebody has to. I doubt there's been a chef in the kitchen since their opening smoke and mirrors dances. They've a gouging game with the wine list, but they were pushing cocktails. They must have a more profitable scam there."

He stopped, turned and put his arms around her. "On to other things." He leaned down to kiss her lips. "There's a great little sushi place around the corner and along. Want to do sushi? We still have the remains of the Veuve stoppered in the fridge — and a back-up — several backups."

They sat at the bar, and Lorne explained the Champagne, the boat and their hungers to the itamae and said omakase. Sipping green tea and chatting, they watched the creations evolve in front of them. The place was busy, but there appeared to be nobody at the bar or the tables unattended. "Good business."

"Have you reviewed this place?"

"Not yet. This is only my second visit. The first was great. Wait 'till you try this."

"There are so many things I want to try with you..." She trailed off dreamily. So many things. So much pent-up... Anticipation... I'm wet... Oh God! Please God if you're there, please help Lorne through this — this whatever it is. So fricking horny for him. I can't believe his fingers. His tongue. Oh, my God, that schlong. Soon, please, God, soon...

The quiet beeps as he poked his phone brought her back. She listened to him ask for a water taxi in twelve minutes, across to the Keats anchorage. "Here you are scheduling again."

"And there you were dreaming. I love the look on your face when you do that. Where were you?"

"Just thinking about you. How fortunate I am to know you."

"I'm the lucky one. You're the only person I've felt safe around since... Stop!" He tensed. Stared at the wall, then shook his head and turned to peer into her eyes. Quietly.

She watched his face slowly relaxing, his crooked smile gradually unwrinkling. Still quiet. She rubbed his hand and felt his grip on the teacup relax, heard his quick, shallow breathing slow, watched his shoulders drop. No tears this time. Seems lighter. I wish I knew what to do. God, I love him. Hunk! So hard, strong, confident outside, so tender, so fragile inside...

"You're making that sublime face again. Our order's ready. Are you?"

Back aboard, she laid out the sushi on the porcelain plates he had taken from the cupboard. He poured soy into two small heart-shaped bowls and lifted hollow stems from the rack. 

"I love these wavy plates," she said. "Where did you find them?"

"In a little shop on Saltspring, they reminded me of a gently rippled sea. Still do. I'm pleased you like them. Much more pleased you like me."

"God! What's not to like? You're such a magnificent beast. So complex, yet so simple. So hard, firm, distant, yet so soft, warm and endearing. Loving... Caring..."

"You've that sublime face again. You really do love me, don't you?"

"God! What an understatement! You have no idea how much. How much I crave you." She wiped her hands on a tea towel and looked up. "Hug?"

They merged. Her whole body shuddered. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tilted her head up to him. He tasted them as he kissed her. "What are these about?"

"Joy... Ecstasy... You."

The kiss went deeper, the hug tighter, their bodies pressing, writhing, feeling the swelling. He paused the kiss but continued the hug. "Sushi? We've sushi to enjoy, and La Grande Dame — actually, I've two great ladies to enjoy."

"Both of us widows."

"Hadn't thought of that. Shall we dine? I had thought over there with cushions." He nodded to the carved low teak table.

"I'd like to get into something more comfortable." She winked at him. "Care to help me with it?"

"I'd love to. I've some bathrobes. I'll go get —"

"No need for them unless we get chilly, but then I'd rather you keep me warm."

As they undressed each other teasingly, she giggled and said, "You're so much better at this than you were the first time."

"That seems so long ago — last night — so much since then. May I tell you again that I love you?"

"Silly, silly Lorne. So silly. You never need my permission for that. You don't need any permission to love. Ever."

He nodded. Paused. Nodded again. "I love you. I always have. I feel I always will."