The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

32 Lunch with an old friend

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This time, Mitch and Scott do lunch and try something new. They're ready for better times.

******

Scott fussed over his hair and clothes until he lost patience with himself. It's just lunch with an old friend, why get into such a state about it?

Because it's Mitch, and I need to live up to his standards.

In the end he went with a polo neck sweater in dark grey cashmere that flattered his blue eyes, a comfortable black leather jacket and black trousers. He was still fiddling with his blond quiff when the doorbell rang. With one last glance in the mirror, he opened the door.

"Hello Scott. Aren't you the handsome one today?" Mitch smiled at him, and he shook his head.

"Oh thanks, but I think that's you, actually," Scott replied.

Mitch laughed. "Why thank you. Come on, we don't want to be late." He walked back to his black car, and Scott followed. He recognized the dark blue leather jacket from before paired with a white shirt, its long cuffs peeking out, and close fitting grey trousers.

"This is new for me, but I wanted to drive for a change."

"Have you been to this place before?"

"A long time ago. But they do divine Italian food."

"Pizza is my all-time favourite." Scott kept a serious face.

"Hmm." Mitch glanced at him, then turned his eyes back to the road. "That may be, but we are expanding culinary horizons past pizza and meatballs today."

"Sounds good."

"It will be." Mitch smiled, and Scott stole glances at him while pretending to look out of the window as they drove through unfamiliar neighbourhoods.

Once at the homely looking restaurant, Scott allowed Mitch to go ahead of him. He stood by smiling awkwardly while the host greeted Mitch like a long lost friend and conversed in rapid Italian.

"And this is my old friend, Scott."

Scott snapped out of his trance and held out a hand, but the host, an older man with silver streaking his black hair, came forward and kissed him on both cheeks.

"Scott Hoying the singer, no? I am Guido Scarpaldi, welcome."

Scott beamed down at Guido, pleasantly surprised. "Yes, I am. Pleasure to meet you, Guido."

"Your table is ready, gentlemen. Come, come." He led them to a table half-hidden behind a pillar, giving some privacy from the few other diners. A small arrangement of deep red carnations and baby's breath sat in a cut glass vase between them.

"So, what am I going to eat if not pizza? And how will you get on with the whole gluten-free thing?"

Mitch winked. "Italy is way ahead when it comes to delicious gluten-free food, besides there's pasta without wheat. As you know." He raised one eyebrow and Scott nodded.