Remo, the owner Johnny’s cousin and a good friend of Mark’s back when he worked there, looked over and nodded, saying, “Feel free to take any empty table.”
One down
Mark saw a table two away from Peppe’s that was vacant. Biting the bullet, he led the way over to it, choosing to sit in the chair, leaving the booth for Paul.
If I’m going to prove anything, I have to face the SOB so he can see me full on.
Paul seemed to understand Mark’s reasoning because he leaned over to say, barely above a whisper, “Just don’t stare at him. Be casual.” In a normal tone of voice he asked, “Do we want coffee or wine?”
“Wine, I think,” Mark replied with a slight Southern drawl. “Maybe the house red?”
“I heartily recommend it,” Peppe called over, eyeing Mark and Paul.
Mark knew that. It was the only wine Peppe drank when he was there late enough to switch from his usual coffee.
“Thank you,” he said in return, nodding to Peppe.