“Thanks.”
“But…” I started to protest.
“Theo, our waiter is…uh…waiting.” He gave Vince’s companion a nod, “Happy New Year, sir,” closed his hand around my arm, and walked away. Since I didn’t want to be dragged across the room, I hurried to keep step with him.
“Wills, that was rude. What’s up with you?”
“Do you want to get me—” He bit off his words. “Listen to me. You Did. Not. See. Mr. Vincent here tonight, got that? Especially not with that man.”
“What? But…” I shut my mouth. I’d lived in DC long enough to know things weren’t always what they seemed, and just because Wills was living openly with me, that didn’t mean that everyone working for Huntingdon had that option. “You seemed to know the man who was with him.”
“I’ve seen him before.”
“Is he the man who came up to see Vince?”
We reached our table, where Nino was waiting, and I shut up. He was holding out a chair, and Wills gestured for me to take it. I sat down, and Nino snapped out my napkin and placed it on my lap, then moved to Wills and did the same for him. Wills’s seat gave him an unobstructed view of the room. And of Vince and his companion.
“What may I get you signori to drink?” Nino tried so hard to be Italian.
“I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri.”
Wills was staring across the room toward the alcove where Vince and his friend sat.
“Wills?”
“What? Oh, I’ll have a Johnny Walker Black, on the rocks.” He looked up at Nino. “Make it a double.”
Wills rarely drank. Wine and beer, sure, but rarely hard liquor.
I waited until Nino left to get our drinks. “Okay. Are you going to answer my question?” Wills looked confused, and I patiently repeated myself. “Is he the man who came to see Vince when he was living upstairs?”
He reached for his water glass, nearly knocking it over, steadied himself and took a sip, then brought his napkin to his lips.
“He’s someone Mr. Vincent could get can—”
“Vince could lose his job? Because he’s dating another man?” I hadn’t though Huntingdon was that rigid.
“Jesus.” Wills ran a hand over his hair. “It’s one thing if Mr. Vincent’s just fucking him,” he muttered, obviously talking to himself. “If he’s dating him…Oh, Jesus.”
“Can Vince get in trouble for dating this guy?”
“Oh, Theo, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Your drinks, signori.” Nino noticed the unopened menus which were lying on our plates. “Are you ready to order?”
“Not just yet,” I told him.
Wills took his glass, downed a large swallow, and began to cough. Nino pounded his back.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Wills put down the glass and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Very good. I give you some time to decide what you would like this evening. Everything is primo number one.”
“Thanks, Nino.” I waited until he left us. “Are you okay, babe?”
“Yeah.” He coughed again and took a sip of water.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No! If Mr. Vincent thinks…No.”
“Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed and opened his menu. “Let’s just…This is New Year’s Eve, and tomorrow is your birthday. Let’s order, okay?”
“Sure, babe.” I picked up my menu. I’d never seen him so shaken, and I didn’t know what to make of it. Normally the most easy-going of men, I could count on the fingers of one hand—and have fingers left over—the times I’d seen him stressed or pissed. But unless he wanted to talk to me about it freely, I wasn’t going to twist his arm. “The cold antipasto looks good…”
* * * *
My back was to the alcove, so I couldn’t observe without being obvious about it. There were only so many times I could retrieve my napkin from the floor before it started to look as if I had dropsy.
Wills had barely touched his salad, but he finished his Johnny Walker Black.
“Would signore care for another?”
“No, thanks, Nino. I’ll stick to water.”
“But it is New Year’s Eve.”
“No, thanks, Nino.”
“Very good, signore.”
I didn’t try to persuade Wills to have another drink or to switch to something else. I took a roll and buttered it, and offered it to him.
More of it wound up torn to small pieces and left on his bread and butter plate. For once, I was at a loss. Small talk didn’t seem appropriate. Neither did talking about what had disturbed him, which for some reason appeared to have been seeing his boss in a social situation.
“Wills…”
Nino took away our salads and brought out the entrees, veal Marsala for Wills and veal piccata for me, then bustled off.
Wills’s gaze was fastened on something over my shoulder. He put his napkin beside his plate. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the men’s room.”
I didn’t tease him that he hadn’t had enough to drink to make his back teeth float. I just nodded and watched as he walked toward the restrooms. I was able to see that Vince had left his seat and was heading in the same direction.