Read Online 4 Arch Enemy of Murder by Vanessa Gray Bartal - Free Book Online Page B

sorry for her. Few people had ever put Riley in her place, and especially not when she was already vulnerable and down on her luck. Her mouth puckered, her eyes watered, and then she changed courses. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. She picked up her menu and hid behind it until the waiter arrived.
     
    Tosh picked up his menu again. Travis gave his stomach a reassuring pat and perused the soup section of the menu. Lacy went for the remainder of her breadstick. There was something off about Riley’s quick agreement and subsequent silence.
     
    The waiter arrived to take their order. He was part of the owner’s family, a handsome Greek man who spoke with a heavy accent. “Do you think it would be possible to put tzatziki on the menu as an appetizer?” Lacy asked. She loved the garlicky cucumber yogurt dip.
     
    “No, no tzatziki. We good Americans, serve American food only,” the waiter said.
     
    “But I really think there could be a place for a few Greek menu items. People love Greek food; I love Greek food. It would bring something new and different to the town.”
     
    “No, we only make American food. We very patriotic. Immigration no come here.” He gave a wary look around the restaurant as if he expected a raid at any moment.
     
    Tosh stepped on Lacy’s foot, a signal to let the conversation drop. “Just wondering. I’ll have the New York strip, medium.”
     
    He nodded as he wrote her order, finished with the table, and then he was gone. “Whose turn is it to pay tonight?” Tosh asked as he stole the last inch of her breadstick and tossed it in his mouth.
     
    “Yours now,” Lacy said. “I wanted that.”
     
    “That was your second breadstick. Technically, it was mine, and I wanted it, too,” Tosh said.
     
    “Sorry,” Lacy said. “Do you want me to ask for some more?”
     
    “No, I don’t think it’s safe for you to talk to the waiter anymore,” Tosh said. “I think he’s already paranoid that you have immigration on speed dial. What do you suppose happened to them to make them so scared of the government?”
     
    “I don’t know, but I wish they weren’t. This town could use some good baklava.”
     
    “The town?”
     
    “Okay, I could use some good baklava,” Lacy confessed.
     
    “Your altruism knows no bounds,” Tosh said.
     
    “Neither does her appetite,” Riley said, and then put up her hands in surrender. “That slipped out. Sorry.”
     
    Tosh gave her a disapproving glance over his menu. Travis used his menu to fan his face, and Lacy glanced longingly at the empty bread basket.
     
    “Well, isn’t this a cozy foursome?” Michael asked. He clapped Travis on the shoulder. “You’re looking a mite green there, mate. Could it be because you’re attempting a date with the boss? A man needs a few more years under his belt before he’s ready for that.” He gestured toward Lacy and let his gaze rest on Riley. “Am I right, curly?”
     
    “Don’t look at me, Michael. I’ve reformed. I speak only kindness and good cheer here, thanks to my new friend Pastor Holier-Than-Thou.
     
    “Sorry, lass, but until you’ve had an Irish nun rap your knuckles with a ruler, you have no room to complain,” Michael replied. He turned his attention to Lacy. “You’re the spitting image of Sister Mary Theresa. Have I ever told you?”
     
    “We’re not Irish,” Riley interjected.
     
    “But,” Michael began, but Lacy interrupted him.
     
    “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Yo-Yo Ma?”
     
    “Yo-Yo Ma is a cellist, love, but never let it be said that Michael Donnelly can’t take a hint. I’ll play you out.” He began playing a loud and lively version of “Maneater” as he walked away with a wink.
     
    “Stick to the classics, Itzhak Perlman,” Lacy hissed to his retreating backside.
     
    “He’s fun,” Tosh said, his dry tone dripping with sarcasm.
     
    “He is,” Riley agreed, although she sounded sincere. “He has this thing called a sense of humor.