“Charlie,” Mrs. McKinney replies. “And he’ll have you scratching his belly all night if you let him. You and Stephanie look like you have places to go.”
“And things to do,” Trent acknowledges, straightening again. “But it was good to meet you, ma’am.”
“Be careful out there, dear,” Mrs. McKinney says to me. “There’s all sorts of no-goods out there in the world these days. Pretty, young thing like yourself—”
“Don’t worry,” Trent interjects. “She’ll be well looked-after. And you should be careful yourself, ma’am…there’s more than one pretty thing about, it seems.”
Mrs. McKinney takes her leave then, and fairly levitates off down the hallway, Charlie trailing behind her. I could swear that she’s blushing, something I can completely empathize with.
“Shall we go?” Trent asks.
“Oh, yes,” I say. “You’ve got my curiosity piqued, Mr. Stone.”
This statement, true to begin with, becomes even more so when we emerge onto the sidewalk. Curtis is nowhere to be seen, and Trent is making no move to hail a cab. I look at him questioningly.
“It’s a beautiful night,” he declares. “I thought we could walk.”
“Where to?” I ask.
He offers the crook of his right arm. “Not far. Not far at all. Just up around the corner, in fact.”
I am now officially mystified. There’s nothing up ahead around the corner except one thing, and a restaurant isn’t it.
He sees the confusion on my face.
“Trust me,” he reassures, and I take his arm.
Everything looks different by streetlight, including the entrance to the city park where we are standing a few minutes later.
“I had no trouble getting us a reservation here for tonight,” Trent says, leading me through the open gates and along the path that runs parallel with the park’s bordering hedge.
“I guess not,” I reply. “No need to wait in line, either, for dinner on the grass.”
“It’s just a shade more formal than that,” he says, pointing.
I look. There is a large gazebo a short distance away. I haven’t spent much time in the park in the past, but I’m pretty sure that gazebo didn’t come equipped with candles, which this one is sporting in abundance.
There are candles lining the railings, throwing wavering shadows onto the surrounding area. More candles line a candelabra, of all things, which is parked in the middle of…an elegantly-set table for two in the center of the gazebo. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons flank china plates on either side of a smallish, round table, which is itself covered with a snow-white tablecloth. Off to one side stands a server, who welcomes us with a smile and a “Good evening, sir, ma’am,” and a separate table bearing an assortment of low, covered dishes.
You could knock me over with a feather.
Trent pulls out my chair for me. I seat myself, shaking my head in wonder.
“Surprised?” he asks.
“You could say that,” I say. “If you had arranged to have the meal parachuted down from the sky, I think that’s the only way I could be more surprised!”
“It’s a little dark for that. I should be glad you were at work all day—the company I brought in to set this up looked like they were decking the place out for a wedding.”
“Well, I am floored.” I look around. “But how did you keep someone from running off with anything before we got here?”
He nods his head towards the waist-high hedge surrounding the park’s perimeter. As if on cue, a white sedan with a bank of lights on top, dark now, cruises silently past.
I look back at Trent. “You rented the police?” I ask, incredulous.
He laughs. “Private security company. They’ve been patrolling for hours now. They’ll also go by every now and then while we’re here. They won’t make any noise, though. Hybrid cars. It’ll feel like it’s just you and I.”
“Well,” I say, “and…er…”
“Louis,” the server says, stepping forward with a bottle of wine. “And don’t worry, ma’am, I’m classically trained in staying in the background. You’ll barely notice that I’m here.” He pours and then recedes just as advertised, becoming a part of the shadowy scenery.
“This is…” I fumble. “You went to all this trouble…”
“I knew I was already at a disadvantage trying to pick out a restaurant to take you to, so I decided to concentrate on the venue.” He looks around. “I think it’s got ambiance, don’t you?”
I try my wine. It’s an excellent dry white. “Ambiance galore,” I agree. “So what did you settle on as far as food? I’m dying to find out what’s made its way out here tonight.”
Louis steps forward again with one of the covered dishes. “Toro roll with caviar, ma’am, made with Bluefin tuna belly.”
I lean over slightly towards Trent as Louis begins to serve. “No place in the city makes this,” I stage-whisper. “In fact, I think there’s only two restaurants in the whole country that do.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Trent confirms. “One in New York, one in Las Vegas. The chef in Las Vegas was even more stubborn than you when it comes to catering a private meal, but the one in New York was a little more accommodating.”
“You flew in the food from New York?” I ask, incredulous all over again.
“I flew in the chef,” Trent clarifies. “He prepared the food in a mobile kitchen that was removed just before we got here.”
I shake my head. “I’m just flabbergasted that you would go to all this—”
“It wasn’t trouble,” he says. “Just a matter of some phone calls. The only trouble was racking my brain to come up with something special for tonight, something that you haven’t seen, or worse, done
