She shrugged. “I don’t like driving.”
“Oh, wait.” He stopped and turn to face her. They’d already gotten to the restaurant. He’d been so torn about whether to accept her invitation that he forgot to ask what brought her to the island in the first place. “Did you want to go eat now, or do you have something else that you needed to do?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“Is that what brought you to San Juan? Is there another gallery interested in your work?”
“No, nothing like that.” She smiled up at him. “I just wanted to see you. See how you were doing.”
“Ah.” He grunted. “I’m great. As always.”
Lynn stepped forward, delicately removing the sunglasses from his face. She frowned. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look so good.”
He laughed, reaching out a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Ouch.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ve got huge bags under your eyes and it looks like you haven’t slept in days.”
She had him again. “I guess I just miss Lenny.”
Lynn laughed, and since Mike wanted to avoid talking about that for now, he opened the door of The Meridian and welcomed her inside.
The restaurant was cool and dark, and there was flamenco music playing softly in the background. This was a bit more romantic than he remembered, and there was a possibility it was sending the wrong message.
The hostess greeted them, and since it was clearly packed, he asked the hostess if she could tell Chef Rue that he was there.
Rue came out a moment later, greeting Mike with a hug. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Ah, yeah. Never for long.” Mike introduced Lynn and then asked, “What are the chances of us getting a table?”
“For you? Anything you want, on the house. Hang on, I’ll set something up.”
When he walked away, Lynn shot Mike a hopeful smile. “This seems promising. What kind of favor is he repaying? Or do I not want to know?”
Mike laughed. “No, it’s nothing bad. His daughter got lost kayaking a few years ago. A storm pushed her all the way out to Cactus Island – it’s this little island a bit north of San Juan. I took my plane out to help the search party.”
“Was she okay?”
Mike nodded. “Yes, we found her within a few hours. She’d washed ashore and had no way to call for help. I brought her back home.”
“Wow.” Lynn stared at him for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this now.”
“What do you mean?”
“All this time, I thought thatIwas the only person you’d ever rescued. I thought I was special. And now this?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “You are special.”
The hostess returned and escorted them upstairs and outside to a private table on a tiny balcony.
“Oh my,” Lynn said as she took a seat. “You really do have connections.”
He wanted to say how meaningless it all was, his entire life, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. So instead he just said, “Yeah.”
They placed their orders and after their appetizer arrived, Mike decided it was time for Lynn to know that he was leaving.
“Look, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Hang on.” She set down her drink – a special San Juan sangria that Rue insisted on serving her – and folded her hands on the table. “I need to say something first.”
