I picked at my dinner, too unsettled to eat. When Arnoldo Ricci stopped by to say hello, looking very dashing and handsome in his white chef coat, I felt bad that so much of his fine food was still on my plate.
The celebrity chef was a friend of Gideon’s. Gideon was a silent partner in Tableau One, which was the reason I’d chosen the restaurant. If he had any doubts about how the dinner with Brett would go, he’d have people to ask that he trusted.
Of course, I hoped Gideon would trust me enough to believe me, but I knew our relationship had its issues and our mutual possessiveness was just one of them.
“It’s good to see you, Eva,” Arnoldo said with his lovely Italian accent. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, then pulled out one of the empty chairs at our table and sat.
Arnoldo extended his hand to Brett. “Welcome to Tableau One.”
“Arnoldo’s a Six-Ninths fan,” I explained. “He came to the concert with Gideon and me.”
Brett’s lips twisted ruefully as the two men shook hands. “Nice to meet you. Did you see both shows?”
He was referring to the brawl he’d had with Gideon. Arnoldo understood. “I did. Eva is very important to Gideon.”
“She’s important to me, too,” Brett said, grabbing his frosty mug of Nastro Azzurro beer.
“Well, then.” Arnoldo smiled. “Che vinca il migliore. May the best man win.”
“Ugh.” I sat back in my chair. “I’m not a prize. Or I should say: I’m no prize.”
Arnoldo shot me a look. Obviously he didn’t wholly disagree with me. I didn’t blame him; he knew I’d kissed Brett and had seen the effect it’d had on Gideon.
“Is there a problem with your meal, Eva?” Arnoldo asked. “If you liked it, your plate would be empty.”
“You serve big helpings,” Brett pointed out.
“And Eva is a big eater.”
Brett looked at me. “You are?”
I shrugged. Was he catching on to how little we really knew about each other? “One of my many flaws.”
“Not to me,” Arnoldo said. “How did the video show go?”
“I think it went well.” Brett searched my face as he answered.
I nodded, not wanting to spoil what was supposed to be a celebratory time for the band. What was done, was done. I couldn’t fault Brett’s intentions, only his execution. “They are well on the road to megastardom.”
“And I can say I knew you when.” Arnoldo smiled at Brett. “I bought your first single on iTunes when it was still your only single.”
“Appreciate the support, man,” Brett said. “We wouldn’t have made it without our fans.”
“You wouldn’t have made it if you weren’t so good.” Arnoldo looked at me. “You will have dessert, won’t you? And more wine.”
As Arnoldo settled back in his chair, I realized he intended to fill the role of chaperone. When I glanced at Brett, I could tell from his wry smile that he caught that, too.
“So,” Arnoldo began, “tell me how Shawna is doing, Eva.”
I sighed inwardly. At least Arnoldo was a babysitter who was fun to look at.
BRETT’S hired driver dropped me off at my apartment a little after ten. I invited Brett up, because I couldn’t see any way to avoid it that wasn’t rude. He took in the exterior of the building with some surprise, as well as the night doorman and the front desk.
“You must have a smokin’ job,” he said as we walked toward the elevators.
The clicking of heels on marble chased after me. “Eva!”
I cringed at the sound of Deanna’s voice. “Reporter alert,” I whispered, before turning around.
“That’s a bad thing?” he asked, turning with me.
“Hi, Deanna.” I greeted her with a strained smile.
“Hello.” Her dark eyes raked Brett from head to toe, and then she thrust her hand at him. “Brett Kline, right? Deanna Johnson.”
“A pleasure, Deanna,” he said, turning on the charm.
“What can I do for you?” I asked her as they shook hands.
“Sorry for interrupting you on your date. I didn’t realize you two were back together until I saw you at the Vidal event earlier.” She smiled at Brett. “I take it there’s no harm done from your altercation with Gideon Cross?”