Chapter 13

When they arrived on the patio, Martin told the host they were only having drinks, so he seated them at a small table for two in the corner under a sheltering palm tree.

“Shall we try the Pimms Cup?” Martin asked Ellis. “Apparently it’s considered the house drink.”

“If it’s cold and wet, I’m all for it.”

“What drink isn’t,” Martin replied with a lifted eyebrow.

“Let’s see, a hot toddy, Irish coffee, hot buttered rum—shall I continue?”

Martin chuckled. “You’re relaxing—finally.”

“Trying to, and the Pimms Cup is fine.”

By then their waiter had arrived and they ordered their drinks.

“Nice place,” Ellis said, looking around once the waiter had left.

“You’ve never been here?” Martin asked in surprise.

“Nope, but then there are a lot of bars in the city I haven’t visited. A lot of places including bars, actually.”

Martin tilted his head questioningly. “But you’re a native.”