Thirst
Page 9

 Jacquelyn Frank

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“This is already turning out to be an interesting date,” he said.
She wanted to protest when he called it a date, but she supposed that was exactly what it was. But he must’ve read her recalcitrant expression and said, “I know we’re strangers. But anything can happen. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find a little bit of romance on this date.”
“Whoa. Slow down there, champ. I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t have to know me for there to be sparks of interest and the ambience of romance. I’m not pushing you, I’m just telling you to be open to it.”
She preferred to change the subject. “What about you? What do you do?”
“I am an attaché to my government. I negotiate around the pitfalls of peace and war.”
“War! Surely we’re not on the brink of war with Portugal.”
“Not at all. But, like Americans, we have to keep attentive to terroristic acts and those who would use our country and its monies to stage attacks on others. But mostly I negotiate trade agreements. Helping to guard against terrorism is a small part of what I do.”
“What can an ambassador do against terrorism?”
“Mostly keep an ear out for chatter. You’d be surprised what I hear.”
“I don’t think I would be. Ever since the attacks in France we’ve had to look everywhere for threats.”
“That is very true. But let’s not talk of such grave matters. Tell me about your people. Your family and friends.”
“Well, I have two sisters. Sondra and Rhea. My parents live upstate. They are still married after thirty years together.”
“You sound sad when you talk about them. Why?”
“Only that I wish…” She stopped and felt her cheeks warm. “I suppose I wish I could have my mother’s luck and find someone I can tolerate for thirty years. But time is running out. Who’s to say I’ll even be alive in thirty years?”
“How old are you? You cannot be more than thirty.”
“I’m twenty-nine. Thirty in March.”
“You’re still young. You have plenty of time to find a lover worth giving a lifetime to.”
“What about you? How old are you? Haven’t you found anyone worthy of your heart?”
His face seemed to shutter closed at that and she knew she had asked a sensitive question. But she wanted to know more about him and this was the only way.
“I am older than I like to admit,” he replied after long moments. “And I have not found a woman worthy of my time and efforts.”
“Have you ever come close?” she heard herself pressing. It was the detective in her. She had to dig until she had all the answers.
“There was one woman. Once. A very long time ago.”
“What happened?”
He frowned and looked away from her.
“She died.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling sympathy for his obvious pain.
“Good evening, can I get you something to drink?” the waitress said as she suddenly popped up tableside.
“Is absolutely everything you serve organic?” Rafe asked her, speaking calmly, as if they hadn’t just been talking of deeply emotional things.
“That’s what we strive for!” the waitress said sunnily.
“Strive…but do you succeed?”
“Yes. Quite famously. The owner is a real freak about the food being organic. You needn’t worry.”
“All right then, I won’t. I would like some sweet tea to start. Renee?”
“The same please.”
“Give us a moment with our menus please. I’m afraid my date is so engaging that I have not had a chance to look at it yet.”
The waitress grinned and said, “All right. I’ll get your drinks and be back in a bit.”
She left and Rafe made a show of perusing the menu. “Would you like an appetizer?”
“I’ve had the stuffed shrimp before. It’s delicious.”
“Then I will take your suggestion. Any others?”
“The pasta Alfredo or the penne a la vodka are good pasta dishes. If you prefer meat you might try the chicken piccata.”
“They all sound delicious. You choose for me.”
Renee was surprised by that, but she smiled. So, she thought, he was not the type who had to be in control of every detail of his life.
“I think you’ll have the chicken piccata and I’ll have the pasta Alfredo.”
“Excellent idea to choose two competing dishes. That way I can try both.”
“How do you know I won’t mind you eating off my plate?”
“Do you?”
“No,” she said with a smile. “As long as you play fair and let me eat off yours.”
“Deal.” He reached his hand across the table and they shook on it.
For Renee, the touch of his warm hand around hers was electric. His hands were surprisingly calloused, more than she would expect from a man who probably spent most of his days in an office. Perhaps, she thought, it was from some kind of sport he played. All in all it was a very masculine hand and it swallowed hers up almost completely. His strength was unmistakable in his grip.
No. He was not a soft man.
“Do you like sports?” she asked as he released her hand. “I only ask because you seem very strong. Or perhaps you work out?”
“I like to maintain top physical condition,” he said. “I am a very active man. I work out and engage in several forms of self-defense.”
“As do I.”
“I imagine you’d have to to be good at your job. Physical activity clears your mind. Keeps you focused. At least, that is what I find to be true.”
They chatted lightly about things, ordered their meals, and chatted some more. Renee discovered that the more she found out about him, the more she liked him. When their food came, she began to tell him funny stories about the quirky people in her life, like Emily and her sisters. They shared off each other’s plates, but instead of simply cutting a piece of his chicken and sliding it onto her plate, he speared a piece with his fork and fed it to her across the table. It seemed so intimate, as if they had been dating for ages. But she did not balk and readily closed her lips around the delicious food and his fork.
One thing that made an impression on her as they ordered some dessert was that he never once looked at his phone. She heard it chime frequently, indicating he had gotten a text, but he ignored it easily and continued to converse with her. She didn’t know that she could have been equally as polite. Like most people, her phone pulled at her the moment it made a sound. She had been conditioned to respond to it. Then again, her job required her to always respond.