“You’re right, Nigel. This veal is very good.” Portia ate with dainty bites but with enthusiasm.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I touched my napkin to my lips. “I understand you were in London a year or so ago. What did you think of it?”
The rest of the meal was spent in exchanging experiences on the Continent, although mine were carefully expurgated. Not that I was afraid I would shock her. However, even though she had a very high security clearance, there were some things no one except my immediate superior needed to know.
I ordered tiramisu and espresso for dessert.
“Very good.” She twinkled, and I lost myself in her gaze.
“Perhaps…perhaps you’d like to return sometime?”
“Yes, I would.”
“With me?” I wanted to bang my head with my hand. Whither Mr. Freeze? How could I be so gauche
