Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,46

running with the duck after her and ran to her aid. He took the brunt of the attack. He said he was ready to wring the bird’s neck, but my aunt kept shouting not to hurt the poor thing.” Giovanni laughs.

I laugh too. I notice that even Bolt is smiling.

“What happened?” I ask.

“The duck eventually lost interest. My uncle was bleeding. The duck was apparently huge.”

“Fat,” I say.

“Exactly. My aunt was grateful. She invited my uncle to her house so that she could tend to his wounds…and the rest is history.”

“The fat duck,” I whisper. “I love that story. It’s so romantic. I can picture the whole thing.”

“They’ve been together for thirty-nine years.”

“It’s a cute story,” Bolt says, looking deadpan.

“My aunt is much better at telling it, but I’m afraid they’re busy cleaning up for the night. I’m sure you want to hit the road, so here are the damages,” Giovanni says. He starts to hand the bill folder to Bolt, but I take it out of his hand.

“This one is on me,” I say.

“Don’t be silly, Miss Shaw.” Bolt leans forward.

“A gentleman should pay for a lady,” Giovanni agrees.

“Listen to our waiter.” Bolt is frowning.

“You paid for dinner.”

“This is a business trip.” Bolt’s voice is a deep vibration.

“You said we’re not on the clock,” I say, digging in my purse. I dip into the side-pocket and pull out some cash. “You’ve been fantastic, Giovanni. Thank you for everything. I noticed you didn’t charge us for the wine, the rice balls, or the tiramisu.”

“As I said, those are on the house. We would love to see you again.” I’m relieved when he speaks to both Bolt and me.

“We’ll be back…” Bolt clears his throat. “We’ll be in LA again soon on business,” he says to me. “I wish you’d let me get this, or at least use the company credit card.”

“We’re not on the clock right now. I’ve got this.”

Bolt gives a tight nod. I can see he doesn’t like it at all.

We say our final thanks and goodbyes and head to the car. Our driver is smoking. He takes a big drag when he sees us and then puts the cigarette out under his shoe. Within minutes we’re inside the car and on our way to the hotel.

“I’m so glad you took us to I’anatra Grassa,” I say to our driver, trying hard to pronounce the name correctly.

“Isn’t it fantastic?” He looks in the rearview mirror.

“Did you know that the name means the fat duck?” I ask.

“I did.” He nods. I think he’s smiling, but I can’t tell in the bad light.

“Do you know why that is?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t say I do, even though I’ve been going there for years. My ex-wife was the one who found it. The fat duck…” he says, and it sounds like he’s trying to figure it out or think back to see if he maybe knows but needs to jog his memory.

“It has to do with how the owners of the restaurant first met,” I say, launching into the story. I’ve definitely had too much to drink. I’m not normally this chatty. I tell our driver all about the attacking duck. “After that, they fell in love,” I say. “I think it’s so romantic,” I gush. Maybe one day, someone will save me from an attacking duck. “It’s proof that true love exists,” I add.

“True love!” Bolt snorts. “Not necessarily,” he mutters.

“They’re still together after all those years,” I say. “It has to be true love.”

“Who says that they’re happy?” Bolt shifts in his seat. “I’ve seen plenty of married couples who are fucking miserable, but they’ll never leave. They probably fight every day.”

“I’m sure they do.” I nod. “They’re fiery Italians. Fighting isn’t always a bad thing. My parents fight all the time, but they’re very much in love.” I want what they have. An unbreakable bond built on friendship and respect.

“Trust me…” the driver says, “I don’t mean to intrude on your conversation, but your folks are an exception to the rule.”

“See what I mean?” Bolt says.

“I left work early one day almost a year ago to find my wife of sixteen years in bed with our landlord. It had been going on for a long time. I thought we had a good marriage. I thought she was happy.” His voice is gruff. He still sounds cut up. “We never fought. In hindsight, we were living past each other. There wasn’t much of anything between us. Fighting isn’t