was no one else Martinez had wanted to ask; he’d felt a little embarrassed about asking even Sam, because a middle-aged police detective ought to damned well know where to take his girlfriend for an important dinner. So he’d taken the stranger’s advice and had reserved a table overlooking the bay.
Trouble was, he’d hated the place before they even found the restaurant, because the hotel was massive, jammed with tourists, and to reach the Bleu Moon they’d had to take an escalator, which made it feel like a goddamned shopping mall or a train station, and all he could think of as his beautiful girlfriend clung to his clammy paw was that she hated it too, and so she had to be thinking that if this was his idea of romance, then maybe she’d be better off looking elsewhere . . .
The restaurant itself was nice, in fact, and the table, too, overlooking the marina, but it was modern , which was all wrong for Jessica Kowalski, who was an old-fashioned girl – but then, right after they’d sat down and he’d ordered her Chardonnay and his beer, she’d looked around and said:
‘Al, this is so beautiful.’
God, he loved her.
‘I wanted something special,’ he’d said, and her smile had just lit up her blue eyes, and he’d thought for a moment that he was going to do the deed right then, but then their drinks had arrived, and suddenly it seemed to Martinez that he’d messed up again, because he ought to have ordered champagne. Except then Jess might have guessed what was coming, and that would have made him even more nervous, so there he was, feeling wrong-footed, and then they’d started looking at the menu and after that it had all been about food.
Things had gotten a little easier during the starters. He’d had calamari and she’d had seared scallops and she’d said they were delicious and asked what she’d done to deserve this whole treat, and he’d told her she deserved the best, but then he’d gotten all tensed up again.
Jess had asked him, during the entrées, if he was OK.
‘I’m great,’ he’d answered. ‘My steak is fine.’
‘It’s just you seem a little strained,’ she’d said.
‘I’m just tired, I guess,’ Martinez had said, wanting to kick himself for losing another opportunity, telling himself he’d put things right during dessert, except then Jess had said that she couldn’t eat another thing.
‘Al, something isn’t right,’ she’d said, seeing the look on his face.
‘Only that I don’t deserve you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jess had asked.
Real concern in her eyes.
‘Later,’ Martinez had said.
‘Now I’m scared,’ Jess had said.
‘Oh, God, Jessie, don’t be.’
‘Easy for you to say – ’ she’d tried to smile – ‘because you can’t see your face.’
‘You know what?’ he’d said. ‘This place is making me nervous.’
‘So let’s get out of here,’ Jess had said.
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ he’d said.
So now, at half-past ten, they were in his Chevy in the parking lot on the corner near the hotel, and suddenly Martinez knew, as he was about to start the engine, that if he waited even one more second to try to get the scene just right, it might all go wrong again.
‘So here’s the thing, Jessie,’ he said.
She’d opened her window, and the breeze blew her hair, and the moon was sending glints of silver through the gold.
Often, when Martinez looked at this woman, he got the kind of fanciful thoughts about love that he’d never really allowed himself before, though if someone had pressed him to explain why, he didn’t think he’d have been able to. Until now, it had simply felt easier for him to be alone.
‘You’re everything I want in this world,’ he told her.
Getting there at last.
Jess turned to face him fully.
Her eyes were shining now.
He knew it was going to be OK.
So he asked her.
Dug the fingertips of his left hand into his seat, and popped the goddamned question.
Finally.
‘Jessie,
Trouble was, he’d hated the place before they even found the restaurant, because the hotel was massive, jammed with tourists, and to reach the Bleu Moon they’d had to take an escalator, which made it feel like a goddamned shopping mall or a train station, and all he could think of as his beautiful girlfriend clung to his clammy paw was that she hated it too, and so she had to be thinking that if this was his idea of romance, then maybe she’d be better off looking elsewhere . . .
The restaurant itself was nice, in fact, and the table, too, overlooking the marina, but it was modern , which was all wrong for Jessica Kowalski, who was an old-fashioned girl – but then, right after they’d sat down and he’d ordered her Chardonnay and his beer, she’d looked around and said:
‘Al, this is so beautiful.’
God, he loved her.
‘I wanted something special,’ he’d said, and her smile had just lit up her blue eyes, and he’d thought for a moment that he was going to do the deed right then, but then their drinks had arrived, and suddenly it seemed to Martinez that he’d messed up again, because he ought to have ordered champagne. Except then Jess might have guessed what was coming, and that would have made him even more nervous, so there he was, feeling wrong-footed, and then they’d started looking at the menu and after that it had all been about food.
Things had gotten a little easier during the starters. He’d had calamari and she’d had seared scallops and she’d said they were delicious and asked what she’d done to deserve this whole treat, and he’d told her she deserved the best, but then he’d gotten all tensed up again.
Jess had asked him, during the entrées, if he was OK.
‘I’m great,’ he’d answered. ‘My steak is fine.’
‘It’s just you seem a little strained,’ she’d said.
‘I’m just tired, I guess,’ Martinez had said, wanting to kick himself for losing another opportunity, telling himself he’d put things right during dessert, except then Jess had said that she couldn’t eat another thing.
‘Al, something isn’t right,’ she’d said, seeing the look on his face.
‘Only that I don’t deserve you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jess had asked.
Real concern in her eyes.
‘Later,’ Martinez had said.
‘Now I’m scared,’ Jess had said.
‘Oh, God, Jessie, don’t be.’
‘Easy for you to say – ’ she’d tried to smile – ‘because you can’t see your face.’
‘You know what?’ he’d said. ‘This place is making me nervous.’
‘So let’s get out of here,’ Jess had said.
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ he’d said.
So now, at half-past ten, they were in his Chevy in the parking lot on the corner near the hotel, and suddenly Martinez knew, as he was about to start the engine, that if he waited even one more second to try to get the scene just right, it might all go wrong again.
‘So here’s the thing, Jessie,’ he said.
She’d opened her window, and the breeze blew her hair, and the moon was sending glints of silver through the gold.
Often, when Martinez looked at this woman, he got the kind of fanciful thoughts about love that he’d never really allowed himself before, though if someone had pressed him to explain why, he didn’t think he’d have been able to. Until now, it had simply felt easier for him to be alone.
‘You’re everything I want in this world,’ he told her.
Getting there at last.
Jess turned to face him fully.
Her eyes were shining now.
He knew it was going to be OK.
So he asked her.
Dug the fingertips of his left hand into his seat, and popped the goddamned question.
Finally.
‘Jessie,
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