Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,85

have another sent from me. I slipped into a seat a few tables behind him with my own glass and waited.

The waitress brought his drink, and Jason looked up in surprise. I got a kick out of watching him look for who had sent the wine. The waitress placed the glass on the table and helped him out by gesturing to me. Jason turned around, and I gave him a little finger wave, the same one he had sent me from his balcony that afternoon.

A smile of genuine delight curved his lips and warmed his eyes. He stood and gestured for me to join him. I rose from my seat and crossed the restaurant to him. I could feel his eyes on me, but I had no idea what he was thinking; the dim lighting made it impossible to see the subtle nuances of his expression. I stopped right in front of him and glanced up.

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

“No, not at all.” He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down, letting him push me in just a bit. He resumed his seat and said, “Thanks for the wine.”

“You’re welcome.” I held up my glass in a silent toast and took a sip. He did the same.

When I didn’t say anything more, Jason leaned back in his seat and asked, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no,” I said. “Let’s just say some people are not exactly as you remember them.”

Jason nodded. He looked like he wanted to ask a million questions, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“No need,” I said. “I’m fine. I was just looking to get something to eat when I spotted this brasserie and then I saw you, and I thought you could recommend something from the menu.”

“Excusez-moi.” Jason raised his arm and waved to the waitress who had just brought the wine. Then in perfect French, he ordered. “Elle aimerait la bouillabaisse, s’il vous plaît.”

The waitress nodded, glancing between us with a small smile.

I was stunned. “You speak French? How did I not know this?”

He looked chagrined. “I speak one sentence of French. That was it, and I jazzed it up by saying she instead of I. Madame LeBlanc, my long-suffering French teacher, would be so proud. In fact, I was so relieved when this brasserie had the one thing I know how to pronounce on their menu, bouillabaisse, that I hunkered down and stayed put.”

I laughed. “Well played, Knightley.”

“Is seafood stew all right with you? I can testify that it was excellent,” he said. He gestured to his empty bowl.

“It’s perfect,” I said. And it was—something very French, exactly what I’d been looking for. I sipped my wine.

The cool night air swept over my skin, and I pulled on my wrap, draping it around my shoulders. I was surprised to find that the silence between us didn’t feel strained or awkward. In fact, it was comfortable.

Jason drank his wine as he watched the people walk by. Some were eagerly headed out for a night of revelry, while others looked as if they were headed home. The waitress brought the stew with a warm loaf of fresh bread. I offered to share with Jason, but he shook his head, saying he was full.

“Have you been in touch with Aidan tonight?” I asked.

“Yes, I let him know that you were on top of things and we needn’t have worried. You would have gotten your phone back in time to meet with Severin,” he said. “Aidan said, ‘Of course she is,’ as if he wasn’t the one freaking out about your not being in touch. Honestly, I think he was worried about you, not the dinner with Severin.”

“Really? Doesn’t that seem out of character for a guy who is all live and let live?”

“A bit, but he has started treatment, so he might be feeling powerless and more anxious than usual.”

“That makes sense. Have there been any more incidents with the Quarter Thief?” I asked.

Jason informed me that the thief had struck again, this time taking a quarter of a chocolate chip cookie Michelle had been saving for herself. What was even more mysterious was that she had left the cookie wrapped in a napkin on her desk in her office, which she kept locked, and when she unwrapped the cookie, a quarter of it was missing.

I ate with gusto, listening to the gossip. The seafood was perfection, filling me up and warding off the cool evening temperatures. The lobster stock was enhanced with