Chapter 5: Dinner Without Favors

Miles pulled out my chair at the little restaurant next door.

I checked the table before I sat down.

There were two settings and no stack of cream cards.

The window beside us faced the water.

A waiter put a bread basket between our glasses.

"Is anybody else joining you?" he asked.

"No," I said, rather firmly.

Miles waited until the waiter had gone.

"I've never been so pleased to be included in a no," he said.

I took a piece of warm bread.

The crust cracked against my fingers.

I'd eaten two biscuits and called that lunch.

Miles moved the butter nearer without interrupting me.

"Did you want to come here?" he asked.

I looked up, suddenly worried about my answer.

"I wanted to eat with you," I said.

"Good," Miles told me.

"Because I've never tried the food."

I laughed and put butter on the bread.

"You made a reservation without checking?" I asked him.

"I checked they had chairs," he said.

"Your standards downstairs seemed fairly modest."

I smiled, then put the knife down.

"The assistant joke bothered me," I told him.

Miles stopped touching the stem of his glass.

"I know," he said.

"I liked that you could laugh about the bag," I told him.

"I didn't like being made into somebody's job again."

He nodded and looked at me properly.

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