Page 84 of Warrior's Cross

Blake sat silently as Julian continued to drink, keeping him company as the night stretched on.

Tuesdays was about an hour from closing, and filled tables were few and far between. Cameron focused on cleaning up after a party that had stayed late. He stacked plates on his trayand slid glasses carefully onto the rolling cart nearby before glancing out the window.

Spring was in full swing outside, all signs of snow and ice gone.

His mouth quirked. Most people figured that being “up north” meant Chicago had lovely springs and autumns. It did, he supposed, but surrounded by concrete, glass, and asphalt, he figured it might as well be June by now. But once outside when the sun set, a lovely crisp cool breeze would blow in, circulating off the lake, and that seemed to bring the sleepy city back to life.

As Cameron returned his attention to cleaning the table, a man entered the restaurant and looked around quickly as he unwrapped the thin scarf from his neck. He wore a black pea-coat and his dark hair was unruly from the windy night. He stepped up to Keri at the hostess stand and requested a quiet table.

“Preferably in one of the alcoves,” he added in a posh British accent.

Keri led him to a quiet table, leaving the menu and promising quick service. She got Cameron’s attention, and he nodded. He walked back to the service area to wash his hands before heading back out to the table.

“Good evening, sir. My name is Cameron, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” he offered pleasantly. He rattled off the night’s special and showed the man the other menus. “Would you like some time?” he asked after he was done.

“No, thank you,” the man answered with a smile as he looked up at Cameron appraisingly. “I’ll take the special and the house wine,” he ordered, relaxed and smiling as he spoke.

Cameron blinked as the casual phrase struck a nerve. “Of course,” he covered with just the slightest hitch. “I’ll get that order in for you right away,” he assured the man before turning to depart.

True to his words, Cameron returned within minutes with a fine crystal glass and a bottle of wine that he deftly opened. He poured a bit into the glass for the man to taste and waited, still musing over how one innocent phrase hit him so hard even after all the time that had passed.

The man tasted the wine and nodded his approval as he set the glass down and looked up at Cameron, measuring him silently.

“Are Tuesdays always this busy?” he asked finally.

“Busy?” Cameron picked up the glass to fill it halfway. “Early, usually. This time of night, not so much. If you want to eat earlier in the evenings, we do accept reservations.”

The man smiled and laughed softly, a surprisingly deep, rich sound. “I always have reservations,” he quipped.

Cameron frowned a bit and looked at the man directly. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” he said apologetically.

The man looked up at him and snorted in amusement. “That joke must not translate across the pond,” he said with a slight shrug. “No, I’ve only been in here a few times. Mostly private parties or in the bar for a quick bite,” he added.

Cameron nodded briefly and set down the glass and bottle, though he took another look at the man to be sure. “Enjoy the wine. Your dinner should be out shortly,” he said.

“Thank you,” the man drawled as he watched Cameron’s movements carefully. “Has Mr. Bailey come in tonight?” he asked casually.

Cameron stopped and turned back, his thoughts scurrying quickly.

Bailey. He had heard that name somewhere before, hadn’t he? He couldn’t place it as a customer, though.

“I’m sorry. Can you describe him for me?” he asked politely.

The man looked up at him thoughtfully and then shook his head. “I must have you mistaken for someone else,” he finally concluded in an easy drawl. “Mr. Bailey was well-known to the man I was thinking of. He visited him in hospital a while back.” He narrowed his eyes, and Cameron was struck suddenly by how similar this man’s eyes were to Julian’s. They weren’t even the same color, more a light brown or maybe hazel, but there was the same intelligent, calculating quality to them. “Perhaps you knew him as Julian?” the man said abruptly.

Cameron’s stomach seemed to drop into his toes, and he prayed that his face didn’t betray his physical reaction. He shook his head slowly. “I do know many of the repeat customers,” he murmured, knowing he was a terrible liar. Cameron figured sticking to the truth was the best, if at all possible, but he didn’t know what to think of this man. There was something slightly... hard-edged and predatory about him. “But I’m afraid neither name rings a bell,” he added in the hope that the lie would go undetected.

The man looked up at him with a slight smile still on his lips and he nodded. “My mistake,” he offered smoothly. “Suppose I’ll just have to find him another way,” he said almost happily.

With no verbal acknowledgment required, Cameron turned and walked back to the service area without slowing his pace. When he got out of sight, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

Even if the man was looking to find Julian, Cameron couldn’t help him. Not now. He didn’t know how to get in touch with him, and he couldn’t have found the house again if his life depended on it. He sighed, pushing away the sudden, familiar pang of loneliness. He was surprised to find that he was slightly jealous as well. The man sitting out there was looking for his ex-lover, and Cameron knew nothing about him now. He closedhis eyes, reminding himself yet again that it was no longer his business to know anything about Julian.

He delivered the meal not long after, setting it in front of the man with a minimum of fuss. “Please let me know if you need anything,” Cameron told him softly.

“Oh, I certainly will,” the man murmured in a low drawl, looking up at Cameron and smiling his charming smile.

Cameron suppressed the tiny flash of warmth he felt at someone—a handsome someone—smiling at him like that, despite how the man’s very presence also bothered him. He had purposely avoided anything resembling a relationship since Julian had walked away. It was the first real attention he’d allowed himself to notice in months. That it didn’t feel quite right spooked him.

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