Chapter Ten #2
“Wait. Verity, wait a minute.” He stopped them in the street.
“I haven’t eaten much today, neither have you.
And I’d like to continue this conversation, but not out here in the street where anyone might overhear.
You know as well as I do that things like this can easily take on a life of their own, and suddenly. ..boom. Panic sets in.”
“Urgh.” She nodded in agreement.
“So, if memory serves me correctly, there used to be a place...” He looked around, oriented himself, and led her down a small side road.
“Uh...Lucas?”
“If it’s still there, it’ll be worth it. Trust me.” He glanced at her. “Let me take you to dinner. Your reward for being astoundingly competent today.”
Verity blinked. “I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, but here’s a hint. It missed it by a few yards.”
Searching for a familiar landmark, Lucas merely nodded absently and turned them both toward a smaller lane. “This way. I’m sure it’s this way.”
His memory hadn’t lied, since a less than five-minute walk revealed lights, coloured signs, and a beautifully rendered sign in brass and blue lights.
“The Brass Finch,” blinked Verity. “Well, that’s new to me. I had no idea this was here.”
“I doubt you have much reason to be in this part of town, to be honest. Pembroke Hill barely touches the edge of this part of Arcvale.”
Her grip on his arm tightened a little. “Is this an acceptable place for us to be?”
“Anywhere we choose to be is acceptable, Verity. But I take your meaning. Yes, this is—or used to be—a quietly Bohemian place. And the food here was outstanding.” He noticed the customers entering and leaving. “Looks like it still is.”
She followed him inside, looking around curiously, much as he was himself.
How long had it been? God, he couldn’t remember.
But this place held good memories for him.
Back then, he’d had friends, and they’d had the usual adventures, most of which he couldn’t quite recall.
But his spirit had been lighter, laughter came more easily, and the sound of the music always eased his restless thoughts.
The music had changed, but the clientele? Just the same. As were the scents that wreathed his nostrils and started his mouth watering.
“Just the two of you, then?” A young waitress, who looked to Lucas like she was about twelve, cocked her head on one side.
He nodded. “Just the two of us.”
“’Tis busy tonight. The Velvet Flywheel’s here. Always fills up with them on the stage.” She craned her neck. “I got a spot over on the far wall, a two-seater. Not many of those here, mostly four and up. Bit snug, but kinda private... You want?”
“We do,” said Verity. She glanced at Lucas. “Er, we do, yes?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
It took a bit of weaving between tables, and dodging servers with trays of delicious smelling somethings held aloft, but at last Verity slid along a soft leather banquette and sighed, relaxing into the corner. Lucas followed her, liking that the cosy arrangement put his thigh right against hers.
The young lass reappeared with two menus. “Here you go, then. Just push the blue button when you’re ready to order and someone’ll be right there. Have a fun time.”
“Thanks.” Verity smiled as she untied her bonnet and slid it off her head. “Ahh.”
“Uncomfortable, are they?” He looked at the straw confection as she tucked it beside her against the wall.
“Not really. Just a nuisance. I can relax much better without it.” She gazed around. “This is an interesting place, Lucas. Was it like this when you were here?”
“Almost. Although I have to say it’s a lot cleaner. It started life rough, and college lads didn’t exactly demand polished marble and shining steel.”
“Well, I like it.” Verity nodded her head. “Any recommendations?”
Together, they studied the offerings, Lucas enjoying the feel of her shoulder against his, and catching a slight hint of lily of the valley. “Something to drink first, perhaps? Odds are it’ll be a while before we get a meal, given how busy it is...”
“That sounds like a good idea.” She glanced down again. “Er, I’ll pass on the Rivet. Never developed a taste for ale. But I’d love to try the house white wine?”
“Good choice.” He too studied the menu. “How hungry are you?”
“To judge by the trays we passed, I’m hungry enough for half of one of those dishes.” She chuckled as one of the servers walked past at that moment with a plate almost overflowing with something that smelled like heaven. “See? That is a lot more than I could eat, but my mouth’s watering already.”
“Well then, how about a Smoked River oyster plate to start with, and then we share the Brass Finch pie? I’m pretty sure that’s what just sailed past us.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “They do that to get everyone’s attention, and make sure they know how good it’s going to taste.”
“Orders as advertising. I’m impressed.” She leaned back. “But yes to the food, I haven’t had oysters in some time. And if the pie is anywhere near as good as it smells? I might just move in here.”
Lucas looked at her—relaxed, laughing, cheeks faintly flushed, eyes bright as she took in the busy bistro.
And something inside him moved. Moved like it had never done before.
He wanted to ignore it—demand it go away—because if it didn’t, his carefully ordered life was about to fall apart before his eyes.
And he admitted he was afraid...afraid he wanted that to happen far too much.