Chapter 2

“Go get him, tiger!” She was grinning and, as he headed off, he stillfelt the heat in his face.

He apologized to the couple at table fifteen as he placed the bill holder on their table. “I’m very sorry, for the wait,” he said, smiling disarmingly. “It’s a new computer system for the restaurant.”

The man merely shrugged as he took up the bill holder, but the woman smiled at Garner. These little touches of consideration on his part worked best with female customers. He genuinely enjoyed seeing that the customers had everything they needed to make their dining experience at Mario’s enjoyable, and it was the women who perceived that. He truly believed that if all his customers had been men, he would have been fired long ago. For, however thoughtful and polite he was in serving customers, he was also rather forgetful.

Sometimes that caused problems—sufficiently often that Mike, the manager, had more than once been on the verge of letting him go. It was only the excellent reviews of the customers, mostly the women, which made Mike stay his hand.

Garner had developed a habit of evaluating his performance when the customers at each table left. Table fifteen tonight—as the woman rose, he drew back her chair in just the right unobtrusive yet casual way that made it solicitous rather than intrusive, and got a querulous look from the husband—it was perhaps a B-, or maybe a C+, but no more.

He sighed inwardly as he left the table—and experienced a jolt as he was reminded of table twelve. Garner looked quickly across at the man, and was relieved to see he was still studying his menu, a filled water glass and bread basket in front of him. Deciding to give him a little more time, he turned and, seeing the tall, thin form of Tom, the busboy clearing table fifteen, went to help.

* * * *

When at last Garner steeled himself to approach table twelve, he saw someone wavingat him from beyond it.

Automatically, he cringed inwardly, feeling a spasm of irritation. Mario’s was notthe sort of restaurant where people behaved in that way. It was upscale, and Garner felt privileged to work there. But when he saw it was his friend Vera, he relaxed.

This was typical Vera behavior. She didn’t ever quite get the rules of a situation, but since her actions invariably came from the best of intentions, she was given a kind of immunity.

He noticed the other three members of her group were dressed appropriately for Mario’s, if a bit dark, and that Vera’s dress was just the wrong shade of red for the new blonde hair color. But that was Vera. He smiled and nodded.

Then he turned back to table twelve. The man was still looking at the menu. So Garner paused, allowing himself the luxury of studying him.

He was dressed in a charcoal suit, no tie, and a white shirt, all impeccable. He looked startlingly elegant, more so than the men who were wearing ties. A crimson handkerchief was in his jacket pocket, the only bit of color in the ensemble. It was the exact color of the man’s rather full lips. Their exquisite curves were rendered more beautiful by the setting of the man’s perfectly smooth skin, dark eyes, and raven black hair that glinted with highlights in the restaurant’s subdued illumination.

There was just a hint of olive color in the pale complexion, suggesting a Latin ancestry, and his hands were finely formed. Garner had noticed before how the man’s nails looked manicured, which seemed to fit. And, indeed, there was something exquisite in virtually every part of him. While slight of build, there was nothing delicate about him. And, when on a previous occasion Garner had watched him walk, when he was leaving the restaurant, Garner had been struck by what was a quiet economy of motion. The effect, then as now, was one of profound calm. This Garner found veryattractive.

But it was more than that, too. There was also the ineffable sense that, in some way, here was someone important, but not because of some office or position. Rather it was just that he was in some way just more therethan other people. It didn’t make rational sense, but there it was; Garner stillstruggled with understanding it.

Watching him now, as he sat looking at the menu, Garner’s gaze was drawn to the sensuous curves of his lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

But just then he was brought back by the feeling that someone was watching him. Turning his head, he saw Mike, the manager, at the front of the restaurant. Garner started slightly. He took a deep breath, gathered his resolution and was about to head to table twelve, when he felt someone squeeze his arm. Turning, he saw it was Vera.