Royal Holiday (The Wedding Date, #4)(43)

“You’ll have to tell me how you like the food,” Malcolm said, when their starters arrived. “I hope it’s not too spicy for you.”

She took a bite, then grinned at him.

“It is very spicy, but it’s perfect, thank you. Just enough to wake up my taste buds and make me a little giddy, but not enough to bring tears to my eyes.”

Malcolm looked away from her and coughed again. Their neighbor currently had tears streaming from his eyes, which he was attempting to disguise with his napkin. Even his date couldn’t stop staring at him. The best part was that his bravado wouldn’t allow him to stop eating the soup completely, so every so often he would take a deep breath and eat another spoonful, and his face just got redder and redder.

“Cameron, are you feeling all right?” his date finally asked him.

“Fine. Fine, couldn’t be better,” he said, his shirt wet with sweat.

She sat back and nodded and didn’t say anything else for a second.

“Well, I only asked because I’m not feeling that well. Would it trouble you too much if you took me home now? It’s possible something here didn’t agree with me.”

Ohhh, that was good. This woman knew how to deal with difficult men. Vivian shook her head. That was probably not a great thing for her; it most likely meant that poor woman had dealt with far too many difficult men in the course of her life, and she knew how to get them out of a situation they’d caused without injury to their ego. But still, she’d done it very well.

“Oh, of course I can take you home now! It’s this restaurant, I’m sure—I knew there was something wrong with this place as soon as we stepped foot inside. Waiter!”

The waiter was at his side within seconds.

“Yes, sir?”

“We have to leave immediately. Something was wrong with my guest’s meal, and she isn’t feeling well.” He threw his credit card down on the table. “Please bring us the bill this moment.”

The waiter bowed.

“Certainly, sir. And of course, there’s no charge for your food, only for the drinks.”

The man gulped another glass of water and waved him away.

Moments later, the waiter brought over the bill, and the man signed his name and raced to the door, without bothering to wait for his date. She followed him slowly, and stopped to thank the waiter on her way out. Vivian hoped this poor woman cut this guy loose after tonight.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Vivian and Malcolm looked at each other and burst into laughter. Vivian was just winding down when she looked over at Malcolm and saw the tears streaming down his face, and that started her up all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I just can’t stop thinking about how he kept drinking all that water.”

She wiped away her own tears.

“I can’t stop thinking about how much pain he’ll be in later tonight.”

Malcolm practically howled at that, which just made Vivian laugh harder.

Their laughter finally subsided when the waiter came over and set a dish in the middle of their table.

“Compliments of the chef, and his apologies for”—the waiter cleared his throat—“any unpleasantness earlier. I hope you’re both enjoying your meal?”

Vivian beamed at the waiter.

“It’s wonderful, thank you so much. I’ve never had Nigerian food before, and everything we’ve had so far is delicious. Please thank the chef for me.” She paused. “And it’s the ideal amount of spice for me.”

He grinned at her.

“Happy to hear that.” He nodded at Malcolm and disappeared.

Any awkwardness that had lingered from the afternoon was now long gone. For the rest of the dinner, he told her stories about when he’d worked in Parliament, she told him stories about her funniest cases, and their accidental touches of each other’s hands and knees got more and more frequent.

They shared not two, but three desserts, and each had a glass of port to go along with it. When Vivian walked out into the cold London night, she was in love with Nigerian food, London, and all forms of fermented grapes. She put the hood of her coat up against the gentle rain, slid her arm into Malcolm’s, and smiled at the world.

“What a great restaurant,” she said. “No wonder you like it.”

He pulled her closer to him.

“Nothing like that has ever happened to me there! All I knew was that the food was delicious and the service was charming. I didn’t realize we’d get a show tonight, too.”

Vivian chuckled as they walked toward his car.

“I thought I was going to die if I had to hold my laughter in for one more second, Malcolm! When he kept eating the soup! Every time he picked up the spoon with this deep breath, like he was summoning up all of his energy. I’m surprised he didn’t catch me laughing at him.”

Malcolm chuckled as he opened his car door for her.

“Men like that never think anyone could be laughing at them. That’s why it’s so fun to do it.”

On the way back to the hotel, Malcolm took a detour so they’d see some of London all lit up at night. She loved driving through cities at night, especially when she wasn’t the one driving, and could just look around and see the buildings aglow, and the bridges outlined by the stars, and the blackness of the river gleaming in the moonlight.