5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Foster
I had to force myself not to drum my fingers on the bench in the restaurant lobby. What the hell was I thinking? Agreeing to go out with someone I barely know? Is this a date? He said something about friends —
I didn’t even have the opportunity to finish that thought as Arnav strode in and greeted me at the entrance of Stavros’s. To my relief, he just waved. To my regret, he didn’t take my hand or place a kiss on my cheek.
Regret is totally nuts because you’re kind of not out. And you’re not certain whether he is or not either.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Stavros greeted us as he came from somewhere inside the restaurant. The restaurant bustled—clearly busy for a Thursday night. Or was it because we were so close to the holidays? Or maybe he was busy every Thursday night. Or every night for that matter. I tended to come by myself on quiet Mondays.
“Stavros, lovely to see you again.” Arnav grinned. “Is our table ready? If not, we can wait—”
“Of course it’s ready.” The robust man chuckled, his face lighting up with obvious delight. He snagged two menus and guided us into the restaurant.
We wound our way through the floor, and I didn’t spot a single empty table until we arrived at a booth in the back corner.
Arnav patted the restauranteur on the back. “Perfect. Right down to the candles.”
“Only the best for you.” Stavros grinned. He caught what was clearly an inquisitive gaze on my face—what with the furrowed brow and general confusion. “Someone tried to sue me, claiming the food made them sick. Your friend—” He gestured to Arnav. “—saved my restaurant. So he gets free food for life.”
Arnav gaped. “Uh, no. I appreciate the gesture, but I cannot accept gifts from paying clients.”
Now, I was ninety-nine percent certain that was bullshit. Public officials? Sure. Lawyers who just saved their clients heaps of money. Yeah, I couldn’t see it. But then what did I know about the legal profession? Still, I respected Arnav not wanting to take money or even gratuities from someone. He struck me as very forthright.
Stavros narrowed his eyes. “If I look this up, you’re telling me I’ll find that in the lawyer’s handbook?” His accent got much heavier.
Arnav smiled. “I’m certain you have better things to do with your time. I’ve been very busy today and barely had time to stop and drink. Perhaps a water and a diet cola?”
The man eyed his lawyer for just another moment before shaking his head. He turned to me. “Can I get you a glass of wine? Beer? Mixed drink?”
“Diet cola would be great.” I offered my widest smile, even as my insides twisted.
“Lovely. Timothea will be here in a moment.”
“Perfect.” Arnav indicated I should sit.
Which I did. To my relief, he sat as well.
Stavros headed off and I let out a breath.
Arnav caught my gaze and smiled. “He’s…a lot to deal with.”
“He must’ve been an interesting client.” I snagged my menu, but didn’t look yet. I wanted to study Arnav’s face as he revealed—or didn’t reveal—what had happened. What had brought him into Stavros’s territory?
My date fingered his menu. “I can share some of it. A patron claimed they got food poisoning from the restaurant and said the salmonella made them violently ill.”
“Oh.”
He waved me off. “Trust me, I truly hoped the claim wasn’t true. Maybe that was Pollyannaish of me, but my family has been coming here for years. My sister proposed to her husband here.”
That took me a moment. Naturally women could propose to men. I just didn’t know any who had. On the other hand, I didn’t hang out with many women, and the guys I worked with didn’t generally share their engagement stories.
“I did some digging and discovered this couple who made the accusation had tried the same thing before. And succeeded. Nearly drove a small restaurant in Invermere out of business. I suppose they thought they’d gotten away with it once and they might as well try again. Easy payday. I’m certain they didn’t think I’d dig that deeply or cast a net through all of British Columbia. But I did. And I discovered the same doctor had written the reports for both cases.
“The lawyer in Invermere was happy to hand over everything from her case, and the medical reports were nearly identical. When presented with that evidence, the lawyer the couple had hired walked away. I handed over everything to the police, who are close to laying charges against both the couple and the doctor, and the restaurant in Invermere is suing to get the settlement back as well as their legal fees.” He grinned. “Not bad, eh?”
I blinked. “Not bad? That’s amazing.”
A stunning woman arrived with a tray of drinks—two diet colas and two waters. Her pale-blue eyes shone as she offered a huge grin. She had her long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She offered us an impish smile. “Stavros is my uncle, and he said I was to treat you as VIPs.”
Arnav grinned back. “Make certain we get the full bill, okay? I don’t want him paying for our meal or giving a discount.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You eat here, then you follow his rules.”
My date sighed. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”
“Nope. Now, what can I get you? Or do you need more time?”
“I think I know what I’m having. And Arnav was telling me how he helped your uncle.” I winced, glancing at him. “Unless that was lawyer-client privilege.”
Timothea waved him off. “Stavros tells everyone how this man saved him.”
“And it’s all in the public record.” Arnav offered a sheepish grin. “Except the stuff about the police, so maybe don’t mention that?”
“I hope they all rot in jail.” Our server held her pen poised.
“Would you be interested in the Greek platter?” Arnav met my gaze. “Greek salad, dolmades, souvlaki, calamari, keftedakia, tzatziki, and pita.”
He knew all that without looking at the menu. “Uh, that sounds great.” I didn’t know all the foods, but I was willing to try. Tonight was the night for being brave. Going out with…a beautiful man. I still wasn’t clear if we were on a date or not. Calamari was octopus, right? How hard could it be to try that?
“For two?” Timothea glanced back and forth between the two of us.
I nodded. “Yes, sounds delicious.”
She snagged both our menus. “I’ll bring the salad to start and then slowly bring out everything else.”
Arnav offered a soft smile. “Perfect. Thank you.” After she’d departed, he turned his gaze to me. “That might’ve been a little bold of me. You might not want—”
I shook my head. “No, I want.” I sipped my cola, letting the carbonation fizz in my mouth. “I like trying new things.” Total lie . I stuck to my routine for a reason. I liked everything in the same order all the time. I never deviated. Well, I had last night at Kink. The jury was still out as to whether or not that had been a good decision.
Well, it landed you here. So it couldn’t have been all bad.
Arnav sipped his water and then cocked his head. “I wish I knew what you were thinking.”
“That I don’t know anything about you.” Bold. Decisive . “I mean, I know you’re a lawyer and that’s about it.”
He laughed. “I don’t know much about you either, but I’m willing to go first.” He ran his index finger to wipe the condensation off his glass of diet cola. He rubbed his finger against his thumb. “I’m Indian, as I’m certain you’ve figured out. My grandparents were from Punjab. They moved to the Philippines. My mother was born there and came to Canada for university. She married my father, and after my third sister was born, my grandparents joined the family in Canada. I’m first-generation Canadian and, I will say, very settled. But I can easily reach back to my ancestors, and so I embrace many parts of my Indian heritage. Spicy foods are my sweet spot.”
“The way to your heart?”
“Phaal curry is the best food ever.”
I winced. “I’ve never had it.”
“Oh.” Arnav held my gaze. “Aversion to curry or just lack of exposure?”
“I’m not certain I’ve ever had curry.” Another wince. “Pretty pathetic, eh? Forty-five years old and I’ve never had that. Or half the things we’re eating tonight.”
“I’m sorry.” He appeared to consider, with a furrow in his brow. “They offer plenty of other foods. Burgers, pasta—”
“It’s really okay.” I didn’t enjoy cutting people off, but I had to make him understand. “Tonight’s the night to try new things.” I stared.
He swallowed. “Yeah, okay. So maybe we can…talk?”
I glanced around, relieved to find we were out of anyone’s possible range.
Timothea returned. “Two Greek salads. It’ll be a bit of time before your food arrives—we’re swamped. If you need it sooner, though—”
Arnav shook his head. “We won’t hold the table longer than needed, but there’s also no rush on the food.” He looked directly at me. “We have a lot to discuss.”
She grinned. “Perfect. I’ll be back soon.”
I licked my dry lips.
“Drink some water. Or cola.”
His eyes pierced a tiny hole into my armor. I should’ve resented what was essentially a command. Had we been on a casual date, it might’ve come off as a strong suggestion. From what I now knew of him? This was Arnav giving me a taste of his Dominant side.
Obediently, I sipped. I was incredibly thirsty, so this wasn’t a hardship. I like him taking control. Choosing the food, encouraging me to drink when I’m clearly thirsty. A flash of pain ripped through me. I used to have this and didn’t anymore.
“Why did you go out last night?” Arnav asked.
I appreciated he didn’t name Kink outright in public. I poked my fork into my salad. At least I’d had this before. “Uh, I thought we were talking about you. About how your family came to Canada. How you love Indian food despite being born in Canada.” See? I listen. I care. I find you fascinating . But I said none of those things. I merely held his gaze until I couldn’t anymore. I looked down at my food—organized leafy stuff with crumbled cheese and a bit of dressing. After a moment, I put it in my mouth.
The flavor hit my tongue, and I savored it. Whatever went into this was delicious. I moaned.
Arnav cleared his throat.
My gaze shot to him.
“Keep that up and I’m going to be in an awkward position.” He winked.
What…? Oh. That. “You can’t help a natural reaction.” I grinned. I liked the idea of making him hard—especially when he couldn’t do anything about it. Because I definitely wasn’t sneaking off to the bathroom downstairs with him. I was too old for stall hookups.
When have you ever done that anyway? Well, that was the truth. I was the least adventurous person I knew. Except at Quinton’s party…
“I’ll let that comment go.” He pointed his fork at me. “Something tells me you might be a handful.”
“No.” I ducked my head. “I’m not, really. I’m good. I can do what I’m told.” I winced. “I’m not a brat.”
A gentle finger tucked under my chin and drew my gaze upward.
Soft dark-brown eyes radiated compassion and kindness. “I was teasing, Foster. I’m sorry you thought I meant it as a complaint.” He continued his thorough examination of me. “I like to tease…but never in a mean way. If that makes you uncomfortable, though, then I can stop.” He released my chin.
I missed the contact. “I apologize.” I licked my lips again.
He pointed to my drink.
Unsure how drinking was going to make my lips less chapped, I obediently drank more cola.
“Never apologize unless you’ve done something wrong. I’m fair. Demanding, but fair.”
He barely looked like he was out of university, let alone the twenty-nine he claimed to be. “I…I’m out of practice.”
“So we’ll take it slow. I’m not in any hurry, Foster. Is that clear? This is entirely at your pace.”
“Dolmades.” Timothea placed the plate on the table with a flourish.
I eyed the green things.
Arnav offered her a truly beaming smile. “Perfect.”
“You haven’t tasted them.” She teased back easily.
“Ah, but they’re always perfect, and I’m always grateful.”
Grateful. I liked that word. The man across from me radiated sincerity. If he said the food was always perfect, then I could believe him. If he said he never teased in a mean way, I could believe that as well.
Carefully, I slid two dolmades onto my plate. I can do this.
Arnav grinned. “You eat and I’ll tell you about my six older sisters, over-protective parents, and so many nieces and nephews that I forget them all.”
He was joking. I didn’t have an ounce of doubt that he remembered every single one of them, their birthdays, and their favorite…toys or books or whatever. He was that kind of guy. Caring. Diligent. Paid attention to detail. Doting. Caring.
Still, as I figured out how to eat the slippery concoction, I sat back and enjoyed his conversation.
Somehow, the evening passed quickly. Anytime he tried to engage me to speak about my personal life, I deftly guided the conversation back to him.
Eventually he got the hint.
By the end of the night, I’d somehow agreed to have dinner with him at Fifties diner the next night.
And as I crawled into bed, I realized I still had a smile on my face.
It had been a very long time since that had happened.