Chapter 11 - THE DINNER WITHOUT BODYGUARDS
Roman arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early.
It was a small Italian place in a neighborhood where nobody cared who he was.
The tables were covered with red-and-white cloths.
The menu was laminated.
A television above the bar played a baseball game.
Roman wore dark jeans and a plain sweater.
No suit.
No entourage.
No visible security.
Paige arrived wearing a blue dress.
Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders.
Roman stood.
She smiled.
"You look different."
"So do you."
She glanced at his clothes.
"No six-thousand-dollar suit?"
He laughed.
"I thought I'd reduce the risk."
Paige grinned.
They sat.
Ordered pasta.
Talked.
At first, the conversation was awkward.
Roman wasn't used to being asked ordinary questions.
What music did he like?
Did he cook?
What did he do when he wasn't working?
He answered honestly.
Badly.
He didn't cook.
He listened to old jazz records.
And he hadn't taken a real vacation in seven years.
Paige stared.
"That's depressing."
Roman laughed.
"I know."
She told him about her childhood.
Her mother had been a schoolteacher.
Her father repaired boats.
She'd grown up near the water and had always loved the smell of rain on wooden docks.
She'd moved to the city hoping to study graphic design.
Then life became expensive.
She started working.
And somehow never stopped.
Roman listened.
For once, he wasn't evaluating someone for weakness.
He was simply interested.
When dinner ended, Paige reached for her wallet.
Roman raised an eyebrow.
"You're paying?"
"Half."
He smiled.
"Fair."
Outside, the air was cool.
They walked toward her car.
Roman stopped.
"Paige."
She turned.
He hesitated.
"May I kiss you?"
She smiled.
"Yes."
He leaned down.
Their first kiss was gentle.
Unexpectedly tender.
And when he pulled back, Paige laughed softly.
"What?"
Roman smiled.
"Nothing."
She shook her head.
"You're terrible at this."
"Apparently."
May you like
She took his hand.
"Good thing I'm patient."
