Arrival by A.P. Lynn

Author:A.P. Lynn [A. P. Lin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466938663
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Published: 2012-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

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Scordalia’s was an Italian restaurant in the heart of the retail and restaurant section of downtown Mason City, about six blocks from the precinct. Rumor had it that reservations were required just to get a seat at its bar. Mark had been past its black-and-gray marble entrance numerous times in his wanderings. Jessie and Mark decided to eat there once, until a friend told them how expensive it was. They promised each other that they would save the trip for a really special occasion, like her first gallery opening at the San Francisco Museum of Art. As Mark approached, he suddenly realized that day had never come. Instead, he was dining here with a woman who was still a stranger to him.

Julie waited for him by the canopied front door, dressed in a gray tweed suit and black mock turtleneck sweater. Her eyes danced behind her glasses. “You’re right on time.”

“I haven’t kept you waiting, have I?” he asked, reaching for the silver door handle.

“No. I just arrived myself.”

Julie gave her name to the hostess. “We’ve been expecting you, Miss Warren,” she told her, as she turned and led them through the tomato red and Italian black-leather accented restaurant. Mark felt underdressed, walking in just wearing jeans, a black polo shirt, and his leather jacket. Everyone else inside were in either expensive business suits and ties, or the newest spring fashions. The couple received more than a few curious stares from patrons while their hostess led to a corner booth and handed their menus. Mark did a quick glance about to see if recognized anyone. In one corner, he saw Judge Embry with one of the city’s prominent business people. He seemed to stare at Julie more so than at him. She didn’t seem to notice. Mark wondered if the judge knew her from somewhere, of if she reminded him of someone.

They settled into their seats and their server was there almost immediately, pouring them glasses of lemon-flavored water, and informing them of the specials. He left them for a few moments while they perused the selections. “I’m treating today, so order what you want,” Julie said, “and don’t look at the right side, please.”

Automatically, Mark’s eyes drifted to the right side of the menu. The prices started in the $50.00 range, and only went up. He tried not to raise an eyebrow. This was just for lunch? He didn’t even want to think about how much dinner would cost. He struggled to make out what the dishes were, but the menu was in Italian, or so he thought. He glanced up at Julie. “Any recommendations?”

“Don’t ask me. I’ll recommend everything.”

Frowning, Mark skimmed the menu with his finger, hoping to recognize any word on it. His eyes fell on a dish that looked like it had chicken it. He moved his lips, trying to sound out its name. Julie noticed where he was pointing. “It’s grilled chicken breasts, marinated in a white wine, garlic and rosemary sauce, topped with fresh pesto,” she explained.

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