Page 27 of Every Rose

Marguerite turned at last. “Greek salad and spanakopita, please.”

“Coming right up.”

They all got cans of soda or iced tea and then claimed the small table before anyone else got any ideas.

A young woman in an apron over jeans entered the truck a couple of minutes later and soon she and Alexei emerged with four paper plates of food. Rose prayed silently that her mom wouldn’t give Alexei a lecture on the wastefulness of paper plates, but luckily Daphne was on her best behavior.

“Now, let me pay for all of this so we don’t forget.”

Alexei put his hands in the air. “On the house. When my brother comes for dinner, it’s always on the house.” He shot them a grin that showed them that his teeth were as perfect as the rest of him. White and even and shiny. “That way, if I need surgery, he’ll have to give it to me for free. I figure I get the better deal. It’s like insurance.”

“I’m not operating on you for free,” Matt informed him.

“Come on, I come in to your hospital with my heart torn in two and you wouldn’t fix me up?”

“Sure I would. If your insurance paid for it.”

“I can see exactly what you two must have been like as young boys,” Daphne said, too accustomed to the stupid fights of her own boys to take any of this seriously.

Besides, the food was too delicious to waste time on a boy fight. “Oh, my, this is delicious,” Daphne said. Of course, she’d have said it to be polite, but Rose knew her well enough to hear authentic pleasure in her tone.

Marguerite chewed her salad thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, “Where do you get your produce from?”

“And here she goes,” Rose said, mostly under her breath.

Matt was sitting next to her, so close that their knees bumped, so he heard her words. “What do you mean?” he asked softly.

“She grows and sells organic produce. It’s like a religion.”

He popped a chunk of tomato, no doubt conventionally grown in Mexico, in his mouth and settled back. “This should be fun.”

Alexei seemed surprised by the question. He was clearly on his own dinner break as he had a plate of food in front of him too. More of the chicken that Daphne was raving about. He ate quickly and efficiently and she imagined a life working in restaurants was to blame. “I have a supplier.”

Marguerite nodded. She pushed her long, dark curls over her shoulder and leaned in. For a relatively laid back woman who lived a quiet life where a yoga class was sometimes the most action she saw in a day, the pushing forward and getting her hair out of the way was assertive. “This salad is very good. The dressing is simple and wonderful, but the flavors would be sublime with organic, locally-sourced produce.”

Alexei seemed surprised to be challenged by a woman who’d accepted free food from him. “Do you have any idea how much that would cost?”

Marguerite smiled, a smile as deliberate and rich as the slow food movement. “I know exactly how much it would cost. I grow organic vegetables for a living.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never joke about business,” she said, as though she were a Fortune 500 exec discussing a merger.

“Good. I never joke about business either.”

“I can tell from tasting this that the tomatoes have travelled too far. They were picked before they were ripe. The cucumber could be crisper, and the olives—”

“The olives came all the way from a farm in Greece where my parents grew up.”

Marguerite nodded. “I was going to say, and the olives save the salad. But imagine if every morsel of this salad was as outstanding as the olives. And the cheese, which I’m guessing is also an authentic feta?”

“Yeah. Made here, but to high standards.”

Marguerite’s eyes glowed with intensity. Rose doubted she even noticed any more that she was addressing Adonis. To her he was a restaurateur who needed to learn about produce. Daphne was sufficiently engaged in the organic, local food debate that Rose felt safe talking to Matt with no danger of being overheard. She turned to him. “I am so sorry that my mother corralled you into coming out with us tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. I had to eat. I have basketball later and I don’t think I ate lunch.”

“You don’t think you ate lunch?”

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