Unknown Diners

Chapter Fourteen

"It's well past eleven," Lorne said, nodding to the bulkhead clock. "I could lie here forever playing with you, but we should add some less exciting activities for contrast." He kissed her neck and teased her earlobe with his tongue and teeth, then let out a loud laugh.

"What's up?"

"Just thinking — last night in the restaurant, playing with your earlobe, leading to piercing. God, we've come a long way from there. Sorry to dump all this stuff on you, but —"

"Silly, silly, silly. My silly Lorne. Don't be sorry for that, be grateful. It's gone, it's behind you now. You've no reason whatsoever to be sorry. I'm the one who should be sorry, I puked all over you." She shook her head.

He sat up and stared at her with a broad smile. "My dreams lying on the bed in front of me. You're so gorgeous. Gorgeous inside and out. Your spirit, your mind, your body. All so gorgeous." He put his hand on her flat abdomen, then shuddered. "I'd love to watch this as it swells and —"

"Oh, my God, Lorne. That is so beautiful. You're a magnificent beast, a tender sweetheart." She placed her hands on his, and she gently pulsed. "That would be awesome." She took his hand and guided him on top of her, and they writhed together, kissing, pressing into each other.

Nearly an hour later, they separated and rolled onto their backs, still lightly panting from their exercises. "We were going to do something else." She laughed.

"How about a shower? We're rather sticky and sweaty. We can sort out the rest of our day there."

I still can't believe this is happening, he thought as he watched her kneeling in front of him, tenderly washing. Treating it like it's normal, rolling the skin back, washing between the halves, washing the scars, accepting... My God, I love her... I need to tell her more often.

"I can't see your... What did you call your pee hole? Urinary something?"

"Meatus. I rather buggered it when I escaped. It's this hole under here," he said as he turned it over and pointed at the mass of scars. "Let's do that later. Do easier stuff for now."

"Yeah, you're right, whenever you're ready. Just know I'm interested. I'm so pleased we got it working. So pleased for the both of us."

"It's a relief in so many ways for me — so many." He looked down at her and shuddered. "So many." He sighed as she continued washing it. "We should focus on something else. Maybe lower the tender and head over to Gibsons and poke around Molly's Beach, see if we can uncover anything."

"Like what?"

"Like check their garbage. Examine the packaging, confirm our suspicions — I don't know — we'll come up with other ideas when we're there. We could also go to eSushi, order takeout again to nibble as we sail. There's supposed to be a nice breeze this afternoon to take us across to the islands."

"That'll be your third visit. You could write a review."

"Good thought. Let's go."

"Whoa! Whoa, Lorne. My impulsive Lorne, remember? You were going to wash me." She rinsed it off, pulled the skin back into a spout and gave it a shake and a kiss. "Great schlong."

Twenty minutes later, they had dried, dressed and set off in the tender under a clear sky. "I wonder whether the same staff members are there for lunch." Lorne mused aloud as he guided the tender across Shoal Channel. "Probably not, it would be too long a shift. They likely do a roster change late afternoon."

"If the reception staff is different, I could play reviewer..." She checked her pouch for a card. "See what their response is."

"That should be interesting. Great idea."

Lorne locked the tender to the dinghy dock, noting the thirty dollar fee beyond two hours. "We won't be more than an hour," he said as he extended his hand to steady her while she stepped out onto the float.

Four minutes later, as they stood in the restaurant's waiting area, he asked, "Recognise anyone?"

"No, do you?"

"Not yet. Let's wait a while longer and watch, pretend we're reading the reviews."

A few minutes later, after a small group had been ushered into the dining room and the reception area was clear, Catherine tugged his arm, tilted her head and lead him toward the desk. She presented her card to the hostess. "I write for the Courier and for two online review sites..."

"It's the chef's days off, it wouldn't be a fair time. We can make a reservation for another day." She glanced at her book, then back up. "He'll be here next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. What day would be good for you?"

"We're busy Monday..." She saw Lorne mouthing Tuesday. "Tuesday will work."

"I suggest dinner, the presentations are always better then."

"That would be our preference."

"What time would work best for you?"

"Twenty thirty is my favourite." She saw Lorne's nod.

The hostess read Catherine's card. "I'll email you a reminder. Can I get you anything now? Complementary drinks?"

"Thank you, no. I think we'll just wander up the street and find some sushi, or something."

"There's a great little sushi place around the corner. Doesn't do promos though. Doesn't need to. It's truly great. That's where I eat. It's rather new, the name's eSushi."

"Thanks, we'll try it. It's always good to get a personal recommendation. Have you a card? We could tell them it was you who recommended."

As they walked up the street holding hands, she turned her head to him. "Good game. Bring in their polished team to do the presentations. Likely in a private dining room. Wouldn't want us to be distracted by the crowds in the main dining rooms."

"With most of the reviewers these days using the system to get free lunches and dinners, they play right into their game."

"Or, more likely, they set up the system to use reviewers to help them manipulate diners who don't trust their own senses."

"Great scam."

She glanced at the card. "Barbara might be useful. She seems to understand what's going on. At the least, she's a great judge of sushi."

They sat at the sushi bar, and Lorne told the itamae they wanted takeout. They will be sailing across the Straits, hadn't yet had lunch and were hungry. They also wanted nibbling snacks for later in the day as they sailed and for evening in the cockpit with Champagne, all omakase.

The itamae smiled, extended his hand and rubbed its thumb across the balls of his fingers as he raised his eyebrows to Lorne.

Lorne smiled and pointed up, moving his finger slowly up and down for emphasis. The itamae pursed his lips and nodded, then bowed and began to work.

"Oh my, this is going to be good," Catherine said as she set her teacup on the bar. "I followed it so easily. What a wonderful way to order. He knows what he has, he knows what we want and his pride springs forth, creating."

They watched entranced as the itamae worked in front of them, selecting, slicing, shaping, rolling, arranging and making them salivate in anticipation. "This is wonderful dining foreplay," she said as she squeezed his thigh. "I love all kinds of foreplay."