Page 58 of Midnight Enemy

“The owner?”

“Yeah. I told you, I come here on business. Kingi and I bring clients here. Marco looks after us. What kind of wine do you like?”

“Um, white.”

“Okay. What type?” I pass her the menu. “Take a look, see if anything jumps out at you.”

She stares at it. She’s still staring at it when Marco comes back with a tray containing two bottles of water, glasses, a plate of their delicious flatbread, and two small dishes of olive oil and salt. He places it all before us, then says, “Can I get you a drink?”

I gesture to Scarlett. She sucks her bottom lip as she studies the menu, then says, “Um… what about the house Sauvignon?”

I roll my eyes, take the menu from her, and hand it to Marco. “We’ll have a bottle of the Louis Roederer please.”

He winks at me. “Yes, sir.” He goes off to get it.

“That’s champagne,” she says. “I saw it on the menu.”

“It is.”

“It was over five hundred dollars a bottle.”

“Cheap at twice the price.”

“Orson!”

“What?”

“You can’t just order the most expensive thing on the menu to impress me!”

“What’s the point in having money and not using it to impress the girl of your dreams?”

She stares at me.

“It’s just a phrase,” I say. “Don’t go running for the hills.” I point at her menu. “Anything there you like?”

“You’re seriously going to spend five hundred dollars on a bottle of champagne?” She glares at me. “Imagine the good you could do with that money.”

“I do plenty for charity. I work hard for my money. And tonight I want to spend it on you, so stop complaining. Most girls would be thrilled to be spoiled like this.”

“I’m not most girls.”

“I’m getting that.”

Muttering to herself, she opens the menu and starts reading. Lips curving up a little, I do the same.

“I don’t know what to choose,” she says eventually. “I’m too nervous.”

I frown. “Why are you nervous?”

“A billion reasons.” She gives me a wry look.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel intimidated. I thought this place was nice and relaxed.”

“It is. It’s me.” She glances around at the other diners, who are all talking and laughing and obviously relaxed. Then she looks back at me. Oh no, she’s actually trembling a little.

“Would you like me to order?” I ask gently.

She nods.

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