Date Shark (2 page)

“I doubt it,” Leila said. “With the number of dream-filled designers versus actual success stories, the chances aren’t very good. Sometimes I wonder why they even bother. They spend hours and hours trying to worm their way into the industry and most of them end up either giving up and waiting tables or taking a fallback job like personal shopper or department store buyer’s assistant. In the end, they’ve wasted years of their life for nothing.”

Any clue about what Eli thought of her response was carefully hidden. It was frustrating how well he could remain neutral. Leila wanted some clue as to how she was doing, but he gave her nothing. Tomorrow she would find out. Leila guessed that would have to be soon enough. Eli asked another question about her job, then her friends, her family. He kept Leila talking until their first course arrived.

Despite not knowing what she was ordering, the salad was fantastic. She only wished she could have said the same for her entrée. It turned out that Leila did not like miso glazed anything. But she forced herself to eat it regardless, only dropping her fork once and losing her napkin until Tony sauntered by and picked it up for her. He didn’t bother to ask if she want a clean one before leaving. So she set it on the table and went back to picking at her sea bass. Her battered taste buds were saved by the truffle tart. Anything with that much chocolate couldn’t help but be delicious.

As the last of their dishes were cleared, another bout of uncertainty clung to Leila. She was not sure how long she should sit there. Should she wait for Eli to let her know their evening was over, or was he waiting for her? Deciding that trying to linger longer than her fee allowed was the worse option, Leila slipped her purse onto her shoulder and stood. Eli paused in the middle of laying his linen napkin back on the table, his face registering surprise. Instantly, Leila knew she had made another mistake, but sitting back down at that point would make her look twice as foolish.

“I … I know you needed to speak with your friend, and it wasn’t like we were planning on doing anything else, so I’ll just let you get on with your night,” she babbled like an idiot.

“I’m in no hurry to talk to Conrad.”

“Still …” Leila struggled to find something to follow her one word response that made her sound at least slightly more intelligent than she did at the moment. All she could come up with was silence. Finally, Eli stood.

“Let me walk you to your car then,” he said as he came around the table.

So she could continue to embarrass herself? “That’s all right. I can make it on my own.”

“Leila,” Eli said, suddenly sounding like her dad, “I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Sighing, she said, “Fine.”

Despite the fact that Eli held his arm out for Leila to take again like they were some kind of fairytale couple, she started forward without him. Pierce was there to open the door for her. Leila gave him a polite goodbye, careful to watch the inclined entrance as she left. The city air outside the restaurant was undoubtedly filled with pollution and ick, but she breathed it in anyway. She had such high hopes for tonight. All she wanted to do now was climb into bed and pretend she didn’t have to meet with Eli the next day.

“Where did you park?” Eli asked.

He was smart to guess Leila hadn’t used the valet. She had never been to a restaurant that had a valet, so she hadn’t been sure how it worked. Every once in a while Leila thought ahead and prevented herself from doing something stupid. “I’m three blocks down. I couldn’t find a space near the restaurant.”

“North or south?”

“Um, south,” she said, glancing that direction then back at Eli. It must have rained while they were inside. Leila wasn’t too worried about her shoes, but she worried Eli’s monkstrap dress shoes and tailored slacks might not survive the trek. The crisp April air made the dampness even more profound. “Look, Eli, you’re sweet to offer to walk me to my car, but I know you have better things to do. You don’t need to feel obligated since …”

“Since this isn’t a real date?” he finished.

Leila nodded.

“Real date or not,” Eli said, placing her hand on his arm, “I have no intention of letting a young woman walk three city blocks at night all alone. Lead the way, Leila.”

He was really only offering because his sense of chivalry was several notches higher than the majority of the male gender, but Leila still found herself smiling at his kindness. She clutched onto his arm a little more tightly and started forward. The three blocks passed quickly, but without incident. Leila was sure it was the nicest part of the whole night.

When they reached her car, Eli said, “Are you still all right meeting for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow at The Fifth Street Café. Twelve o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” Leila said, even though she would rather be just about anywhere else.

Smiling as though he knew exactly what she was thinking, Eli opened the car door for her. Before she could get in Eli stopped her. His hand resting lightly on her shoulder made Leila’s tense muscles bunch up even more. “Hey,” he said, “relax. Go home and do something just for you. You should feel good, proud of yourself.”

“Why?” Had they been on different fake dates tonight?

“Because if nothing else, you just survived a night with the most notorious date shark in the city.”

“Notorious, huh? Nothing about you strikes me as notorious.” Debonair, maybe. Handsome and generally fabulous.

Eli laughed. “Goodnight, Leila Sparro.” Then he did something completely unexpected. He kissed Leila’s cheek and walked away.

Leila slid into her car and touched her cheek.
He must do that for everyone
, she thought, but her skin seemed to pulse where he had kissed her. The only thing that broke up her amazement was Eli’s comment about tonight. She hadn’t survived the most notorious date shark in the city yet. Tomorrow she would get to hear about all the ways she screwed up. There was no way she was surviving that.

Chapter 2

One Word

Eli couldn’t help looking back at Leila as he walked away. She didn’t see him. For some reason she was just sitting in her car. The sight of her inspired his hand to brush against his lips. For a moment, he let his fingers linger, then he stuffed them into his pockets and shook his head. That was stupid. The only consolation he had for the ill-advised move was that Leila probably thought he kissed all of his clients goodnight. He didn’t. He had a rule about that, actually.

Eli’s misbehavior would have to wait, though. He stalked back into
Dolcini
, which he had just left, and ran into Pierce. His normal jovial nature had vanished. Now his hands were pressed together in penance. “Eli, please let me apologize …”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Where’s Conrad?”

“He’s waiting for you at his usual table.”

Eli didn’t wait for Pierce to escort him. After many of these types of nights Eli had sat with Conrad to discuss how the evening went. His experience with Leila wasn’t what he wanted to talk about tonight. Irritation built in him with every step. As soon as Conrad saw him, he stood and crossed his arms over his ample girth. Eli’s pace quickened, as did his anger.

“Did Pierce tell you what happened tonight?” Eli demanded.

He hesitated. “He
told me there was a problem, but that I should hear the details from you.”

“Our waiter, Toni...that kid is gone tonight or I’ll start scheduling my meetings at
Provençal
instead.”

Conrad’s hands flew away from his body in a pacifying gesture. “Eli, he’s fired. No problem, but tell me what happened, at least.”

“The second he walked up …” Eli’s hands balled into fists as he remembered the judgment in Tony’s eyes when he looked at Leila. “He treated her like she was beneath his notice. He tried to take my order first, completely ignoring Leila. She knew what he was doing, too, Conrad. You should have seen the look on her face. She was mortified. Tony made it clear he knew why she was with me and that he found her pathetic. It took all my effort not to find you right then and demand he be escorted out. The only reason I didn’t was to save Leila the embarrassment.”

For a moment Conrad was silent. “Your business and friendship mean a lot to me, Eli. This will be Tony’s last night at
Dolcini
. His behavior was unacceptable. No matter why someone is in my restaurant, every one of my guests deserves to be treated like they were one of the bloody Rockefellers. I apologize for his behavior. When you meet with your client tomorrow please tell her that I would be honored to have her back whenever she would like. On the house, of course.”

“I don’t think she’ll accept,” Eli said, feeling somewhat pacified.

“As my guest then. Tell her Pierce was so complimentary of her that I refuse to miss out on meeting her for myself.” Conrad smiled. “It wouldn’t be a lie, either.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Leila was someone everyone should want to meet. Conrad may love eating his food more than he should, but he had excellent taste when it came to gourmet cuisine and wine. His judge of people was only slightly less refined.

The pair of them sat down. Conrad gestured at the espresso and biscotti on the table. Eli pick up his miniature cup and let its warmth spread through his fingers. Another kind of heat stirred as his thoughts wandered to his broken rule.

“You called her Leila,” Conrad said unexpectedly.

“What?”

Setting down what was left of his biscotti, Conrad peered at Eli. “When you were railing on Tony, you called her Leila.”

“So?”

“So, I’ve never heard you refer to one of your clients by their first name.” His intelligent eyes didn’t leave Eli as he sipped his espresso. “I’ve also never seen you get so riled up about one of your clients. What’s going on?”

Startled, Eli had a hard time answering. “Huh? Going on? Conrad, there’s … she’s just another client. If Tony had treated anyone that way I would have been pissed.”

Conrad didn’t say anything. He waited, watching Eli flounder. The sound of him chewing on his biscotti shredded Eli’s concentration. He would wait here all night. A particularly loud crunch forced Eli’s voice to burst out of its cage. “Fine, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so mad about Tony if it had been the woman from two days ago, the one who kept picking her teeth with her fingernails during dinner and laughing at every single thing I said whether it was funny or not. I was having a hard time not throwing her out on the curb myself.”

“The one tonight—Leila; she’s different than your usual fare.”

“Yes, she is,” Eli said. He was hopeful that each of his clients would find what they wanted in life, but they were usually pretty much the same, sad, desperately lonely, neurotic, and socially challenged. That wasn’t Leila.

“She’s a lot prettier than your usual clientele, too.”

Leila was beautiful, though Eli didn’t know if she would agree with him on that. She’d probably apologize for being so attractive.

“Kind of surprised she came to you,” Conrad said.

“Yeah, me too.”

“So what’s wrong with her?” Conrad had never been one for subtlety.

Sipping at his espresso, Eli said, “I don’t discuss my clients.”

Laughing so hard he sloshed dark liquid all over the table cloth, Conrad pointed a sausage finger at Eli. “You sit here with me every time you throw one of your sad little fish back into the sea of lousy dates and unrealistic dreams. It’s the best part of my night, hearing about the meltdowns over butter dripping on the table or that one weird chick who chewed on her hair. I couldn’t imagine half the bizarre crap you tell me. You can’t stop sharing now.”

“Don’t make fun of my clients,” Eli said, trying for irritation, struggling to hide a shiver. The hair chewer made him gag more than once. How could people be so blind about such obvious faults?

“Come on, Eli. Why is Leila still single and asking for help from a date shark?” Conrad rested his hands on his stomach and waited.

Eli was about to answer when Tony walked up to their table. The muscles in Eli’s chest constricted. The creak of his teeth grinding together was so loud inside his own head he was sure the others could hear it as well.

“Mr. Manera, Pierce said you wanted to speak with me before I left,” Tony said. The steadiness of his voice conflicted with the way his fingers were drumming against his leg.

Conrad glanced over at me. Tony’s eyes followed and the drumroll on his leg intensified. “I believe you met Mr. Walsh earlier this evening.”

“Yes, of course. I hope you enjoyed your meal, sir,” Tony said. His fingers were double-timing it now. Eli held back a razor edged reply and let his friend continue.

“I’m sure Mr. Walsh’s food was excellent, as always,” Conrad said. He never failed to compliment his own establishment. Eli suppressed a chuckle at his pride, even though he was quite right. His beef bourguignon was delicious. “The problem Mr. Walsh had with his meal was the service. Your service, Tony.”

“I assure you, Mr. Manera …”

“Can it, Tony.” The boom of his voice snapped Tony’s jaw shut. “I assume you heard from some of the others about Mr. Walsh’s business. It’s no secret that his clients come to him seeking dating advice. What is a secret is that we here at
Dolcini
have any knowledge of Mr. Walsh’s business pursuits. You can know all you want, but you
never
show your opinion of that knowledge to a patron. You embarrassed Mr. Walsh’s client with your ineptitude.”

Tony’s jaw made only ghost words for a few seconds. “I never meant …”

“Sure you didn’t,” Conrad mocked, “but you did. You disgraced this restaurant and me. In this business, it doesn’t matter what a patron looks like, does, or even smells like, you treat them in a way that makes sure they come back. Remember that when you find a new job.”

Red faced spluttering was followed by a furious, “What?”

“You heard me, kid. You’re done here.”

“You’re firing me because I snubbed some desperate, lonely chick who couldn’t get a date without paying for it? That’s ridiculous! You can’t fire me for something like that!”