A valet met them on the street and shouted a greeting to Victor, who waved at the man as he took Connie’s keys. She raised an eyebrow and met Victor on the sidewalk. “Don’t get out often, do you?” “Would you believe I prefer their cooking to mine?” he said facetiously as he guided her up the stairs to the restaurant. Inside, the maitre’d greeted Victor warmly and eyed Connie speculatively. “It’s nice to see you’re not alone again, my friend,” the young man teased. Victor put a hand over his heart, grimacing. “Dude. You’re ruining my reputation.” The maitre’d held out his hand and motioned Connie in the direction of the veranda. Victor followed behind her and she couldn’t help overhearing the maitre’d’s softly whispered comment. “I don’t think this is a lady you want to impress with that kind of reputation.” She laughed and Victor groaned, aware that she had heard the other man’s comment. The table he led them to was outdoors, on the edge of the veranda, and along a large stone balustrade.
