" She nodded and released the handcuffs. He dressed
slowly, feeling each movement of his body as though it were for the
first time. Jacky watched silently. He always left as soon as he was
dressed. "Good night--Mistress." His voice was quiet.
"Behave yourself," she said, looking at him thoughtfully.
He was on the bridge before he realized that he was driving and had
better be careful. He was hungry. Alberta's. Why not? He found a
parking spot, walked into his favorite restaurant, and got the last
open table, in a far corner of the upper level.
"How are we, tonight?" Claudine asked, smiling broadly. She knew
perfectly well. Women always do. Oliver imagined a sign over his head,
visible only to females: "Spent Male."
"Hungry," he said.
"You've come to the right place. Good halibut tonight, lime and ginger
sauce."
"I think it's a red meat night."
"Lamb? Lots of garlic, rosemary and Dijon crust? New potatoes?"
"Sold. I'll have a glass of Kendall Jackson Merlot." Claudine brought
him a large glass of wine, extra full. Oliver was a regular. He ate
there once a week or so on nights when he wanted to think. They left
him alone to make notes and sketches, to stare out the window at the
quiet street.
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