When we were seated, the Greek produced the bill of fare, that was as long as my arm. I looked at Mardi. “How hungry are you?” I asked.
She nodded. “Plenty.”
“How about a mushroom canape, and a Swiss steak with what goes with it to follow?”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Okay, make that twice, Nic,” I said, “and make it fast.”
She began stripping off her gloves. I kept my eyes on her fingers. No rings. I was surprised at my relief.
“Now, Mr. Mason, suppose you tell me all about it.”
I shook my head. “Don’t rush it,” I said, “I gotta get used to you.”
Again her eyebrows went up. “Don’t you think,” she said quietly, “we’d better talk business? I’m due back in an hour.”
Back came the Greek with the canape.