Page 38 of Wicked Arrangement

He beams, bowing down and walking away backward.

Kim lets out a snort of laughter. “I was just saying that this place reminds me of an Italian Mafia restaurant from a movie and here we are with the owner treating you like the Don!”

She doesn’t realize just how close to the truth she is.

I chuckle and quickly open my menu to distract away from the conversation. I’d rather any comparisons of Mafia bosses to me didn’t take root in Kim’s mind. Kim does the same, perusing her menu. We flick through them in silence, occasionally stopping to nibble on the appetizers or sip our wine.

“Oh, it all sounds so good. I can’t decide,” Kim moans, “What do you recommend?”

“It’s all good,” I reply honestly.

Kim rolls her eyes at me, “Okay, then smart guy, what are you ordering?”

I smile at her indulgently. “I am going to have the lasagna.”

Kim giggles, “You are?”

“Yes, is that funny?” I reply, frowning in confusion.

She laughs again, “I mean, kinda. I was expecting you to order something… I don’t know fancier? Or maybe something like a steak? Lasagna seems too… basic.”

I look at her, my expression faux serious, “Lasagna is great, it even comes highly recommended by Garfield,” I say, deadpan.

She just so happens to be taking a sip of water as I said this, and she laughs so hard she spits some out. “Oh my god, Yaroslav!” she cackles, enjoying my uncharacteristic brevity.

“But seriously, lasagna may be a simple classic, but it’s hard to do it right. Here just so happens to make the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted,” I explain. “I do enjoy a steak, of course, and most of their other dishes. But the lasagna is my go-to here.”

She smiles sweetly at me, her eyes twinkling, she thinks somehow she’s breaking through my walls this evening. “Then that’s what I’ll have too,” she declares.

“Are you sure? Perhaps your dress is better suited for an Alfredo or carbonara,” I quip.

She looks confused for a moment, glancing down at her dress before she realizes what I mean. She laughs again, leaning forward to lightly tap me on the shoulder, “Are you suggesting I’m a messy eater?”

“Not at all. I am merely pointing out it’s a brave color choice for eating Italian food. Not that I mind, you look divine.”

She smiles shyly at me and the waitress returns to take our orders. We continue to make playful small talk while we wait for our food. In due course, our food arrives, and we dig in.

“Mmm,” Kim moans, “Oh my god, you weren’t kidding, this is incredible!”

I chuckle, watching her enjoyment as she closes her eyes and savors her mouthful. “Keep eating like that and I’ll start to feel jealous of a lasagna.”

She chuckles and bats her eyelashes at me, jokingly eating her lasagna seductively. I smile at her, and we continue to enjoy our meal in companionable silence.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met David the other day,” she says casually.

Immediately I’m wary, David is a loose cannon, god knows what he said to her. Is that why she’s been making Mafia jokes? Did he say too much?

“Where?” I ask, frowning as I think through all of the scenarios that could have happened.

“Sorry, I know you said to keep away. I went to the kitchen for breakfast, I didn’t know he was in there until it was too late and then he insisted I join him,” she says apologetically, looking worried.

“Why are you only telling me this now?” I ask, my voice clipped.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she says with a small shrug, “He was fine, we chatted briefly and that was it.”

“So he didn’t say or act… strangely?” I ask, unsure how to ask if he revealed too much without giving my concerns away.

“Well, no. He’s certainly a unique character, very excitable, but nothing alarming. I like him,” she says with a smile. “He told me a lot of strange stories that I think are most likely fiction, but they were entertaining.”

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