Page 62 of Evidence of Truth

The maître d' seated them by the window. The sky was dark, lit up by the twinkling lights of downtown Black Pointe.

“Oh my,” exclaimed Anne. “This is so special.” She pointed out the window. “Look, you can see the Riverwalk. Oops, it’s almost out of sight.” She giggled. “I’ve never been to a revolving restaurant before.”

A server came by and reached in front of Killian. What the hell? Killian put his hand out to stop him.

“He’s putting the napkin on your lap,” Anne said softly.

Oops. First faux pas. It was a good thing Anne told him. Killian was already on edge. He might have flipped the guy.

There were no more problems with napkins. His was all set, as was Anne’s.

“First time anyone tried to put a napkin on my lap,” he said with a grin.

Anne smiled. “I remember it happening once before. I wasn’t sure what was happening and almost slapped the server’s hand.”

Okay, then. He wasn’t the uncouth clod he thought he was.

Killian took a deep breath.

There would probably be more things he wasn’t used to, and he had to dial down his tendency to act first and talk later. He didn’t want to embarrass Anne.

Every time he looked out the window, he had a different view of the city, each more special than the other. Why more hotels didn’t put in rooftop or revolving restaurants was a shame. The view was truly special.

Anne perused the menu and was so cute as she kept saying, “oh, this sounds good” or “this does too.” She sounded like she wanted to try a little of everything, which was fine by him as long as she was happy.

Killian looked around the restaurant. Hank had claimed the restaurant was romantic, and he hadn’t lied.

It was a beautiful calm room with white-clothed tables, flickering candles, a floral arrangement on a large credenza, and twinkling lights on actual trees that edged the room. A man was playing the piano in one corner, and conversations were muted. He liked it and hoped Anne did, too.

After dinner, they would look in the gallery. Then the best part of the evening, staying overnight, would happen. He was sure looking forward to that.

“What are you having?” she asked. Her big blue eyes looked over the edge of the menu.

Killian was holding the menu and glanced at it. “Probably a shrimp cocktail, strip steak, and baked potato. What about you?”

“I think the lobster bisque and Dover sole.” Anne put the menu down. “Lobster bisque is my favorite soup, but I rarely have it. And I’ve never had Dover sole. I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Wine?” he asked.

“I’d like a glass, but you have what you want.”

Killian thought about it. He wouldn’t mind a beer with his steak, but for one night, he could enjoy a bottle of wine with Anne. It thrilled him that she didn’t care what he ordered. But what kind of wine? Was it red for meat? White for fish? Or vice versa.

The wine steward came over and asked what they were having for dinner. He suggested a Burgundy Chardonnay for the fish and Chilean Merlot for the steak.

Anne glanced over at Killian and then at the wine steward. “You suggested the Chilean Merlot with the steak. Would that go with the sole as well?

“Yes, indeed.”

She looked at Killian. “I know you prefer red. Get that one. It sounds delicious.”

“Are you sure? I can order both,” replied Killian.

“I’m sure,” she said. “I like either,” she added.

The wine was ordered, and Killian leaned over and took Anne’s hands. “I want this night to be about you. I don’t care how much it costs. So you order what you want.” He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them.

“Killian. I’m ordering what I want.” She looked around the restaurant. “This is a special place, and I appreciate you bringing me here, but you have to understand I’m a burger and fries kind of girl.”

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