But it left Maris terribly lonely. Ture had been a nice distraction for him. They had eaten together and talked about absolutely nothing for hours on end. Watched old movies...
Maris sighed wistfully. The only trouble was he had nowhere else to go. He was dead to his family. Because of the species differences and the fact that he was jaded to a frightening level, he didn’t really have friends, except for the Sentella who were all married.
Not Hauk.
He smiled at the thought. Hauk was probably the only person who made him look optimistic by comparison. And while he adored the gargantuan Andarion, they were far too different to hang out on a regular basis. Other than gaming and mutual friends, they had nothing in common.
His link buzzed. Maris started to ignore it, but as soon as he looked down, he saw Ture’s ID. A smile broke out before he could stop it.
He answered immediately.
Ture cleared his throat. “Hey...I um...how are you?”
Maris smiled even wider at the hesitancy in Ture’s voice. “Fine.” Missing you like crazy. He caught himself before he said that out loud. Absolutely no good could come from Ture knowing just how much Maris longed for his company. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
A sudden awkward silence filled the line as Maris tried to think of something half intelligent to say that wouldn’t make him appear like some lovesick idiot. “How’s your apartment?”
“Fine.”
More awkwardness.
“How’s Zarya?” Ture asked.
Maris slipped out of the room and returned to his own. He knew Ture couldn’t see him unless he turned on the video feed, but for some reason it felt weird to be in Ture’s guestroom while talking to him. “She’s very well. Stressed a little from the magnitude of planning a state wedding to ensure the legitimacy of her baby, but...she’s much better.”
“Good.”
Maris bit his lip. He had no idea why this was so difficult. They’d never had trouble speaking to each other before and yet—
This sucked.
“So, Mari, I was wondering... I know how much you like good food...”
He cringed in fear of having to turn Ture down for a date.
“Tonight, the special at my restaurant is Chipped Oryan. Since I know it’s one of your favorite dishes and you like eating here, I wanted to let you know. If you’re interested, I can hold a table for you. It’s our busiest night and I won’t be able to say more than a passing hello while you dine, but I have to tell you that I make the best in the Nine Worlds. You will cry to your mother at how good it is, and I’ll spoil you from ever eating anyone else’s.”
Maris laughed at an invitation he couldn’t refuse. “Sure,” he said before he could stop himself. “I’d love to see if you’re half the chef you claim to be.”
“Oh, baby, I’m better.”
Maris sucked his breath in at the endearment. He didn’t know why, but the sound of Ture’s accent whenever he was flippant and sweet...
It made his mouth water.
“So what time should I tell them to expect you?” Ture asked.
“Eight?”
“Perfect. I’m entering it in right now. They’ll have the table all ready for you when you get here. Just give them your name.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Later.”
Maris cut the transmission then slid the link into his pocket and checked the time.
All right, I have six hours. He’d best start dressing now or he’d be late.
*
Maris hesitated as he saw the long line of people waiting to get into the restaurant where Ture worked. But then it was always like this. He knew from his past visits that Ture was a great chef. So much so that it was almost half an hour just to reach the maitre d’ stand.
The man didn’t even look up from his e-ledger. “Reservation name?”
“Maris Sulle.”
“With an S?”
“Yes.”
With a withering snobbiness that would make one of Darling’s senators proud, the man glanced over his ledger. “Sorry.” Snide overrode pity as he finally glanced up and raked Maris with a haughty curled lip that said he suspected Maris was lying about having a reservation. “There’s no Sulle. Is there another name it might be under?”
Maris swallowed as embarrassment filled him, and he hated the man for making him feel it in front of so many people.
Had he mistaken the night? Or had Ture forgotten to add him, after all? “Could you check again?”
The maitre d’ raked him with an even snottier sneer. “I am highly literate...in multiple languages. Your name is not here.”
Maris went into his own round of military peerage snobbery. The one thing about his noble and warring family...no non aristo ever condescended to them.
At least not if he wanted to keep his testicles attached to his body.
“As am I. Perhaps it’s under one of my titles. Prince or Ambassador?”
That took the bastard down a bit. “Um...no, Highness. I still don’t see you listed. Sorry.” This time, at least, there was a modicum of sincerity to that word.