Page 82 of Eyes in the Shadows

“Of course, Sir.”

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Um… I don't think so…”

“Sure. You’re Billy’s kid, right?”

“No, sorry. You’ve got me mixed up with someoneelse.”

I shrug, seeing Eleanor is finished. “My mistake.”

She straightens just as he turns around and nods at her before leaving. I chuckle, then feel the press of something at my crotch. When I look down, her boot is between my legs and the black lace panties are hooked around the toe. “I’m impressed,” I admit, grabbing the fabric and stuffing it into my pocket.

“I don’t think he saw. Oh God, that was almost so bad,” she groans. “But also… kind of hot?”

I laugh and, after a second, she joins me.

90 minutes, 16 delicious dishes, and several almost-sexual moans of pleasure from Eleanor later, we both sit back with our hands on our stomachs, too full for another bite.

“I have to admit, I was a little concerned when the fifth entree came out. Luckily, it’s a fancy place so the menu is small. And I forgot what a bottomless pit you are,” she says, eyeing the mostly-empty plates on the table. “I’m honestly a little bummed there isn’t any cassoulet left. I wanted to try to recreate the spice blend.”

“Order another to go,” I say simply, with a shrug.

“Oh my God, I can’t,” she says. That flush is creeping towards her ears, exacerbated by the rich food and alcohol. She glances up as the waiter comes to clear the table, thanking him.

“Everything was fantastic and you did a great job,” I tell him as he piles empty plates. “We’ll take the check when you get a minute.”

When I look back up, Eleanor is smiling at me. The heat in her eyes hasn’t disappeared all evening, but it’s shifted a bit. “What?”

“Coming from someone who’s worked in a service industry, you can tell a lot about someone from how they treat wait staff. Sometimes people come into the restaurant and act like they were never taught manners, but you’re polite and kind—you gave him a compliment on his service… I just, I would have noticed and I would have appreciated it. I do appreciate it. Thank you for dinner. This was truly amazing—by far the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Pride swells my chest. “First of many. I’m going to use the restroom, be right back.”

She nods and sits back in her seat.

The bathrooms are down a short hall from the kitchen, and catch some of the echoing noise from it. Pots clanging, people shouting, water rushing… it sounds like pure chaos and I’m not terribly surprised it grates on Eleanor.

I do my business, wash my hands, and step through the door, just as someone passes by the end of the hallway, headed back through the kitchen doors. I have to steel myself not to react as another man approaches the bathroom and I move out of his way.

That looked a lot like Owen Johnson.

I walk quickly, my stomach dropping as I do. If that was Owen, this isn’t good. I glance out into the dining room, and see Eleanor staring at the pond. The tables have started really clearing out for the night with the kitchen closing soon, and a quick sweep of the room confirms that there’s no imminent threat to her.

So, I follow him into the kitchen. I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Dimitri, then push through the swinging doors. They open into the heart of the kitchen, with a line of cooks in all white barely visible behind stainless steel shelves in front of me, and a long stretch curving to the left, leading to an external door. That door is swinging shut.

“Whoa! Hey, you can’t be back here,” says a short woman in all black, taking out an earbud with one hand and holding a filthy mop in the other.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, giving her a charming smile as I hold up my phone. “But did a man just come through here? I think he dropped this.”

She glances at the phone, then points towards the door. “He just went out that way.” She puts her earbud back in and resumes pushing the dirty water on the floor back and forth in front of her.

I trot towards the door and open it cautiously, aware that I don’t know what the back of this suburban building opens up to. It’s dark, the only light coming from the very back of the parking lot on my left, but I can make out a man disappearing around the other corner. A plume of smoke from his lit cigarette is following him as he goes.

I creep behind him when he clears the side and I know he won’t be able to see me. I have to avoid some lingering snow piles and trash on the pavement, and tuck my head down in my shirt so the steam of my breath doesn’t give me away. I pause tolisten.

“—can’t believe he’s still keeping his fucking dinner date.”

“Fuck off, man, it’s dinner with the Mayor, Boss couldn’t cancel.”

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