Page 37 of Catch a Kiwi
Roman looked up, still with no smile, and said, “Thanks.”
I glanced around. The table of guys was giving off about-to-leave signals. I’d need to bus their table in a couple ofminutes, but nothing else was happening out there. The tables were clearing out, as it was nearly seven-thirty. In other words: the middle of the night, in Owaka time, despite it still being light outside for a couple of hours more. I’d be home well before dark, which was just as well, because there was no dark as dark as the Catlins night, although no stars as bright.
I got exactly one word out. “Why?”
“Why what?” He wasn’t eating, but leaning back a little instead, one arm resting on the polished wood of the bar top, which only emphasized that forearm muscle, the kind made up of layers, like some kind of geology exhibit. It was just about that hard, too. And then there were the biceps showing under the white shirt, and the shoulders.
“Why are you giving off all that testosterone?” I asked. Ah. Finally some more words. “Exactly where do you get off? Especially when you must know it’s wasted on me?”
“Wasn’t wasted on those fellas over there,” he said, and gave a tip of his head. “You want to know why I did it? That’s why.”
I forced myself to breathe as I checked over there. Yes, getting up to go. I had about one minute to bus the table if I wanted to keep this job. “I could handle them. I’m not your property, and I didn’t need your help.”
“Yeh, right. If that bloke was waiting when you got off work?”
“I have the cook walk me to my car. I’ve been living in this body for thirty years, and I’m not stupid. And that isn’t why you’re here.” I stared at him hard, and he stared back, giving nothing away. Well, he was a company director. A CEO. He’d been staring at people for about twenty years. And all right, I’d looked him up eventually. Tell me you’d have been able to resist.
He didn’t answer, even though I waited. “Fine,” I finallysaid. “We’ll discuss it later. I need to get back to work.” And did.
I’d talk to him at home. Athishome. This wasn’t the time or the place.
Too bad Roman hadn’t got the memo.
16
INNER PEACE
Summer
When Roman had finished his meal, I picked up his plate and said, “We’re closing.”
“I’ll wait for you,” he said.
“I told you, I don’t need you to. Also, you’re going to get me fired. If you think that’s some kind of sexy move, you don’t know me very well.”
He stood up, and I thought,Good.And also, from somewhere,Really? You’re giving up that easily?Instead of heading to the front door, though, he stuck his head through the swinging doors to the kitchen and said, “Oi.”
“We’re closing, mate,” Alfie said. The head cook and owner, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.
“Got that,” Roman said. “Mind if I hang about and wait for Summer?”
Alfie stepped out and asked me, “This your fella?”
“Not really,” I said. “My, uh, friend. Maybe.”
“If you don’t want him here,” Alfie said, “say the word.” And folded his arms. Alfie was probably in his late fifties andhad that tough-guy bulk that’s partly fat and partly muscle, the kind that says this isn’t his first rodeo.
Roman didn’t say, “You and what army?” or whatever you might have expected. He said, “Up to you and Summer, of course. Your place?” At Alfie’s nod, he put out a hand. “Don’t think we’ve met, but I’ve got a house just down the road. Roman D’Angelo.”
“Oh.” Alfie looked, if anything, more suspicious. He shook Roman’s hand, but said, “I don’t care who you are, nobody bothers my girls. Got that?”
“Got it,” Roman said. “She says you’ve been walking her to her car. Good of you. And if you’re the one who made that salmon curry, I owe you for that, too.”
Alfie looked at me, and I said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Fine, Roman. Stay.”
Alfie said, “Have a beer, then,” and pulled down a glass, and I all but rolled my eyes. Did everybody on Earth exist to do Roman d’Angelo’s bidding? No wonder he was so used to getting his own way.
“Now,” Roman told me when I sat down beside him with my own plate of salmon curry, because what was I going to do, sit at another table out of spite? “Explain.”
