of this with both of us alive and my gaining access to the caves if we can truly work together.
“Apology accepted. Thank you.” I uncork the bottle of wine, a fine Aussie Shiraz to go with our dinner, pouring us both a generous glass and then lifting mine in toast. “To unintended meetings, successful partnerships, and everyone getting what they want.”
Kitty raises her glass, but I see the flutter of her pulse at her neck at my words and wonder what exactly it is that she wants. The image of her on her knees flashes in my mind again, but I force it away in favor of work, foregoing pleasure for business like time after time before.
We clink and take a sip of the delicious wine before Kitty looks at her plate and asks, “What’s for dinner?”
I look down, barely able to take my eyes from her. “Chef said beef marsala, garlic broccoli, and her secret potato mash recipe.” I shrug. “The potatoes are one of my favorites.”
Kitty smiles at the small share, forking a small dollop of the creamy fluff. “What makes the recipe so secret?”
I don’t answer, wanting to see her face when she tastes them for the first time. Her eyes fly open wide and she talks around the mouthful, “Oh, my God! These are amazing.”
She takes another bite, less dainty this time, and continues talking while savoring, “Mmm, there’s cream cheese, isn’t there? And garlic butter. I could live on these.” I think she’s telling the truth, judging by the way she’s shoveling them into her mouth. If she went any faster, I’d recommend getting her a serving spoon, or maybe a ladle, to save her time.
I grin, picking up my own fork to enjoy the dinner as well. Eventually, she moves on to the beef and broccoli, but after the mashed potatoes, we’ve transitioned to more casual, even friendly conversation, and I vow to thank Chef again for her magic way with food. Guess that James Beard Award wasn’t for nothing.
“So if we want to fool Nikolai, we need to be as in-sync as any real couple, know all the idiosyncrasies and the answers to any questions. Open book, deal?”
I offer the deal, knowing I won’t return the full picture of my life but hoping I can give her enough to draw her truth out. Because I want to know her, every little tidbit and detail, to save and savor for after this mess is cleaned up and she’s gone.
“Deal,” she says, opening the door to the devil. “Shall we play Twenty Questions? Or Truth or Dare?” she asks playfully.
“While daring you to do things might be the highlight of my night—hell, maybe my life—for tonight’s purpose, perhaps we should stick with twenty questions. See what kind of trouble we can get into that way,” I say flirtatiously, an edge of sex deepening my voice.
Kitty smiles and lifts her eyebrows, although I think she’d have preferred Truth or Dare for the same reasons I’m avoiding it.
“Okay, easy ones first. Favorite color, food, song, movie, and why.” She ticks off each item on a finger. “My faves . . . color, light yellow, not canary like Big Bird but soft like baby blankets and flowers. Food, new one just now, these mashed potatoes, but before that, a fresh blueberry muffin with applesauce. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Song, Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind, not the one with Jay-Z but just Alicia, because I used to sing it and tell myself I was going to move here. It’s like my anthem rally. Movie, Tomb Raider. Long story, just trust me that I don’t have some weird Angelina Jolie thing. Your turn. Give me all your basics.”
She throws all that out there like it was on the tip of her mind, and I wonder if that’s the case for most people because I don’t function like that. Not at all.
“Okay, color. Well, I guess for clothing, I’d say dark grey or black. For other things—”
Kitty tsks, interrupting but smiling congenially. “Not like that, just what’s your overall favorite color in the world? The one that makes you smile and catches your eye every time.”
And suddenly, I know. Looking her in the eyes, I answer truthfully. “Blue, not quite bright like sapphires, but not as deep as navy. Somewhere in between, with flecks of brown.”
It’s obvious to us both that I’m describing her eyes, and she blushes, her hand covering her mouth, but I saw the