On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(29)

“Fair.” Jason sighed. “And I can eat the mediocre stuff elsewhere in this city.”

“If you want mediocre, fly over to Italy. I can give you some recommendations. As for this evening . . .” Emily turned to Blake.

“Seems the saltimbocca is a special event I should partake in. I’ll go with that. And the vegetables.”

“Wise man.” She glanced pointedly at Jason. “Good taste.” Back to Blake. “Wine?”

“The usual,” Jason assisted, and Blake nodded.

“Good choice.” She walked off.

Blake leaned forward when she’d left the room. “This is where the online reviewers say ‘plenty of character’?”

“Well, it’s not lacking there.” Jason smiled. “But wait until you try the food. It’s quite nice.”

“You haven’t led me astray so far.”

“No further astray than you’d already gone, I’m sure.” He pursed his lips. “And don’t listen to her about mediocre food in Italy.”

Blake laughed. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve been eating my way through Italian cities for years.”

“Have you? I’ve never been.”

“You mean to tell me that you clean out men’s bank accounts, but don’t use it to travel?”

Jason shrugged. “I’ve meant to.”

“You’re missing out. I wish I’d done more traveling before my job picked up the way it did. Traveling for business isn’t nearly as enjoyable as traveling for pleasure.” He didn’t realize what he’d said until the smirk played at Jason’s lips. “I mean—”

“You do seem to combine the two well enough.”

“Mm-hmm. You know what I mean. There’s a certain charm to getting lost in a foreign city with not nearly enough money and no grasp on the language.”

Jason absently played with the edge of the tablecloth. “Can’t say I’ve ever tried it, sadly. Though I’m not so sure I’d want to get lost in some cities. Chicago and Los Angeles were bloody miserable. New York or Tokyo would just . . .” He grimaced. “No, thank you.”

“New York isn’t that bad. I mean, I wouldn’t go to certain areas at night, and there’s always the possibility of getting mugged, but—”

“But I can get all of that here in London without that pesky flight across the puddle.”

“Hmm. True.” Blake paused. “Though, if you have someone with you who knows their way around, it’s not so bad. I had someone showing me the ropes here in—”

Jason snorted.

Blake facepalmed. “Not that kind of rope.”

“I didn’t imply a thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Blake rolled his eyes. “What I was going to suggest was, if you’d like to see a place like New York . . .” Now that he was saying it, it suddenly sounded ridiculous. Stupid. Way over the top. He wasn’t on a date. He was out with a rentboy. This was a business transaction. Not courtship or anything of that sort. What was he thinking?

Jason leaned in a little closer. “If I’d like to see New York, what?”

“Never mind.” Blake waved his hand. “Mouth moving before the brain caught up. It was a stupid idea.”

“Humor me.”

Blake shifted in his chair, focusing on the tablecloth between them. “I’d be happy to show you around. If you’d like to, um—”

“I’ve had quite a few men ask me to come home with them.” Jason’s grin was playful, but guarded. “Not usually when ‘home’ is on the other side of the world, though.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“It does sound like fun. And I’ve only been to America a couple of times.” Jason’s lips quirked. “But there is one condition.”

Wait, are we doing this? Is this happening?

Blake swallowed. “Okay?”

“You’ll let me drive your Lamborghini.”

“All right. I might even let you drive the Porsche.” Blake grinned.

“Even the Porsche?”

“Well, that one is my favorite. First car I bought when I was starting to make decent money. You know, one of the milestones I’d set in college.”

“Ahh, it’s your I made it car.”

“It was pretty naive, if you think about it. But twenty years ago, I thought being successful meant wearing the right suits and owning one of those. And a penthouse.”

“And now?”

“I’m successful if I’m beating myself year after year, which, so far, I am. Money and toys are a convenient way to measure that, but they’re not the same as success anymore. Stuff is just a shorthand.”

Jason was quiet for a while. “You know, I think you’re one of the few people who’s actually figured that out.” He leaned back. “Though money is more for me. It’s just how my brain’s wired, but I don’t let it control me.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Blake paused when Emily appeared with the wine and food, the veal cuts accompanied by roasted vegetables that smelled heavenly, and bowls of fresh green salad. The presentation was simple and appetizing, the portions generous without being unmanageable.