Page 29 of That Birthday in Barbados
“You’re impossible.”
“Oh, I’m very possible.”
“I need a drink. A large one.”
“And she shall have a drink. Promptly.” Still smiling, he takes my arm and turns me down the hall leading to the center of the hotel.
We arrive at the entrance toL’Acajou where a maitre’d greets us. “Mr. Walker. Ms. Camilleri. So happy you could join us this evening. We have a perfect table for you with an ocean view.”
He leads the way through the restaurant with its colorful chair cushions and immaculately set tables. He holds out my chair and waits for Anders to sit before he leans down and says something close to his ear.
He then hands us each a menu and says, “Kyle will be your server this evening. He’ll be right over.”
“Thank you,” Anders says, opening his menu.
“What was that?” I ask, curious about the silent exchange.
Anders smiles. “I bartend here in a pinch. He was just asking if his discretion was working.”
“Was it?”
“Quite well, actually. I feel like a guest.”
I smile and shake my head. “I would imagine it’s far more entertaining to be you here than it is to be a guest.”
“Is there a compliment wrapped up in there somewhere?”
“Maybe a small one.”
“All right then. I’ll take that. Now how about that drink?”
“What do you recommend?”
“That would be a rum punch if you’re going for an island favorite.One of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak.Lime, sugar, rum and water.”
“Are you hoping to get me drunk?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Now do I look like the kind of guy who would-”
“Let’s not answer that. I’ll have a rum punch.”
Our waiter appears at that moment, as if pre-arranged, asking us if he can bring us something from the bar. Anders orders two rum punches, and while we wait, I glanceat the menu.
“Um, you don’t have to actually buy my dinner,” I say. “It’s very-”
“Expensive. What? You think I left Wall Street because I wasn’t any good?”
I hear the feigned hurt in his voice and tip my head. “No. It’s just-”
“I’m old school. I invite you. I pay.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You weren’t. Some traditions are kind of nice as they are though.”
Hard to argue with that, so I don’t. The waiter returns with our rum punches on a small tray. They look amazingly appealing. He sets them down in front of us and says he’ll give us a few minutes to consider the menu.
I take a sip of my punch. “Um. Delicious. But I understand the three of strong. Whoo.”
