Date Shark, Page 2

  “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!”

  “I can fire you for whatever reason I want, you little prick. Now get out!”

  Tony stood there fuming for a good thirty seconds before doing an about face and storming away from the table. Even when he was out of their sight, his shrill voice started spouting expletives that could still be heard for a few seconds afterward. Eli shook his head. Eli had just cost that young man his job, but he didn’t feel guilty in the least. The only thing he was sorry about was that Leila missed it.

  “Well,” Conrad said, “now I’ve got to find me another waiter.”

  “Sorry.” Not sorry about Tony, just the stress of finding someone to replace him. Eli knew how much Conrad despised reading resumes.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. The idiot had only been here for two weeks and already most of my staff wanted to filet him into tiny pieces. It wasn’t just Leila he thought was beneath him. It was pretty much the entire world. Kid’s got an ego that could swallow the sun.”

  What really made Eli the maddest about the way Tony treated Leila was that she was nothing like most of the other women that hired him. It was hard not to slip up when a woman was wearing something so revealing and inappropriate that you were afraid she was going to fall out of her dress in the middle of the meal, or when the woman who seemed normal at first pulls out a rolled up snakeskin her pet boa constrictor shed the previous week and asks you if you want to touch it. Some of the women Eli brought here were so painfully unaware of how insane they made themselves look that people couldn’t help stare or shy away. Leila had her faults, which Eli had tucked away in the back of his mind for their next meeting, but she was a breath of fresh air compared to most of the others. Tony didn’t even give her a chance.

  “I’ll have Pierce make up an invitation for Leila. I caught a glimpse of her earlier. She’s a doll. Pick it up tomorrow before you meet with her, okay?”

  “Sure.” Conrad was a good friend. Which was why Eli’s sudden irritation at him was so odd.

  “You know what really chaps me about Tony is that he drags my name around with him when he pulls crap like this,” Conrad said, distracting Eli. “I may not cook the food served here anymore, but I approve every recipe. Our food is the best in the city, and I hate the idea of anyone being put off because of some arrogant waiter.”

  This was going to dig at him for at least two weeks. Eli knew him too well. Conrad loved his restaurant more than anything or anyone. Which was why he was still single, but it fulfilled him. Eli knew this, but his earlier annoyance at him for wanting to have dinner with Leila made him say, “She hated the miso-glazed sea bass, by the way.”

  “What?” His mouth actually fell open. “Did she actually say that?”

  “No, of course not, but she grimaced every time she forced herself to eat a piece.”

  “That’s one of my favorite recipes!”

  Eli shrugged, enjoying his shock for a moment.

  “Unrefined palate, that must be what’s wrong with her,” Conrad grumbled.

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.” Eli slouched down in his chair and leaned his head back. He loved this restaurant almost as much as Conrad did. Its elegant, but homey feel was calming. It made Eli feel like he was back at his mother’s house. Memories of her tried to creep up to the surface, but Eli shoved them away quickly and forcefully.

  The clink of his friend’s espresso cup meeting back up with its saucer registered with Eli, but didn’t make him stir. “So,” Conrad said, “what was Ms. Leila’s biggest fault, the reason she is alone. One word only. You know the rules.”

  The rules. That phrase struck a nerve. “Just let me relax, Conrad.”

  “Ha, this was an unspoken part of our business arrangement. Don’t fail me now.”

  It was a stupid game, but it did usually help Eli collect all his observations and arrange them into a concise list. One word to describe the woman’s greatest fault, then two, then a sentence, working his way into a definitive plan of action for each client. One word to explain why Leila thought she needed Eli’s help to fall in love and stay there.

  “I don’t know, Conrad. I honestly don’t know.”

  Chapter 3

  Unexpected

  Walking to The Fifth Street Café, Leila felt like Marie Antoinette on her way to the guillotine. She could tell herself all she wanted that she was being dramatic and idiotic, but it didn’t calm the feeling of ants burrowing under her skin. Leila really tried to take Eli’s advice last night to do something for herself, but her dread for this meeting kept her from relaxing. She reached the door of the café and froze. Did she really want to hear why she couldn’t get a man to call her back? Maybe not, but she wanted to be alone even less. Leila pulled the glass door open and stepped into the familiar hum of cappuccino machines and chatter. At least they were meeting somewhere low-key this time.

  Leila spotted Eli in a corner booth and took measured steps toward him. He stood when he saw her approach; such a gentleman. Leila wasn’t sure how to greet someone she went on a fake date with the night before. Handshake? Hug? Polite nod? She decided to go with a handshake. Her guess was validated when Eli shook her hand without pause.

  “Good afternoon, Leila. How are you doing?” Eli asked.

  “Uh, that’s up for debate right now. How are you?”

  “About the same, actually.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

  Eli gestured for her to sit down then followed his own suggestion. Leila slid into the comfy booth. Its familiar faux leather paired with big picture windows begged her to tuck her feet up and sit with her back to the sun so it could drench her. This was her favorite spot to read a book. Being in her element instead of Eli’s helped Leila relax somewhat.

  “How was the rest of your evening last night?” Eli asked.

  Leila’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”

  “Did you enjoy the rest of your night?” Eli chuckled.

  “Look, no offense, but could we just get this over with? I couldn’t sleep at all last night knowing I had to meet you today,” Leila said. She wasn’t usually so brusque, but she couldn’t handle any more waiting. “Just tell me what I did wrong last night.”

  Leila expected him to laugh at her again, comment on her inability to sleep. Instead, his face turned thoughtful. Her fingernails bit into her skin. The way his eyebrows bunched together made her wary. Leila knew some of her mistakes already, but maybe there were more hidden faults than she thought. The urge to run away crawled back up her spine. Tamping it down took a little muscle. Leila wanted this, she told herself. She would never know what she needed to change if she didn’t hear him out. Her fingers unfurled and pressed flat against her thighs. She looked at Eli expectantly.

  “You know,” he began, “my job is typically a pretty easy one. And I don’t mean taking lovely women out to dinner. Women come to me so I can tell them the secret of why meaningful relationships seem to be so elu
sive for them. They are never sure why they’re still alone, but I can usually see the reason within five minutes of meeting them.”

  “That’s why you’re the best.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s simply that their faults are usually so glaringly obvious to everyone but them it’s impossible not to notice.”

  “So it has nothing to do with you being a psychiatrist, someone trained to read people’s words and expressions?”

  “Not a whole lot, no.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  The gentle shake of Eli’s head loosened a piece of his polished brown hair. He brushed it away with a smile. His hand reached over toward Leila’s, one finger tapping on her skin. The pulse of his touch raced through her arm to her chest. Her breath stuttered.

  “You know …” Eli said.

  “Here we are,” a barista named Alice said as she set down two smoothies and a pair of turkey sandwiches. “You two enjoy your meal.” As Alice turned around she winked at Leila and gave a thumbs up sign as she pointed at Eli with the other hand. Leila rolled her eyes and ignored her.

  “Sorry,” Eli said, drawing Leila’s attention back to him, “I would have waited to order until you got her but the barista said this is what you always get. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” Leila was quick to assure him, but in the back of her mind she was embarrassed to realize she was so predictable that a woman she was only casually acquainted with knew exactly what she would order.

  Whatever Eli was going to say before Alice walked up was lost. He seemed to be back to business now. “What I said about my job being easy, that doesn’t apply to you, Leila.”

  Great, even the talented Eli Walsh couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her.