The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Are You Sure You Want to Know?

"Alright then," said the Titan and started rising, carefully taking Petra off his lap.

She stared at him in confusion. He got up and stretched his hand to her.

"Oh? Are we moving?" she asked and let him help her up.

He escorted her back in her armchair and then stepped back and picked up his jacket from the floor. Apparently, kissing on the library floor was quite alright - while talking in any sort of a disarray simply didn't seem acceptable to the man. Petra snickered.

"Shall I call for tea?" he asked and looked down at his wrist.

"What is the watch that you're wearing?" Petra asked, pulling her mobile out of the pocket of her cardigan.

"Pardon?" The Titan froze, his hands on the buttons of his jacket.

"I want to google it," she said. "So, what watch is it?"

"You are a creature most puzzling, Petra," he said with a chuckle and a small shake of his head. "It's an Audemars Piaguet. Royal Oak."

"Puzzling is good. I wouldn't want to bore you, that's for sure," Petra muttered typing on her mobile.

"Darling, would you be so kind as to pay attention to me?" he asked, and Petra snorted without lifting her eyes from a Wikipedia page.

"I bet this drives you bonkers, not being the centre of attention," she said, locked her screen, and pushed the phone back in the pocket. "It's just so lovely. One can see it has Quality, capital Q. Like in Zen and the Art of the Motorcycle Maintenance, you know? Love the book! The madness of the mind, and the madness of the world, and such." She saw his expression - purposefully patient and considerate - and snickered again. "Do sit down, John. You were saying?"

"I think I need something stronger than tea," he muttered and walked to the drink table.

He poured them drinks and sat back in his chair. Petra took a generous sip and squinted in pleasure.

"Has anyone ever checked your wine cellar for treasures?" she asked, gently swaying the glass, watching the amber liquid roll inside.

"My wine cellars are a treasure," he said.

Petra hummed and took another sip. He joined her, and she ogled how his lips puckered and his throat moved when he savoured his bevvie.

"Carolina Viviani?" she reminded him, and he once again laughed softly.

"One never knows where your mind will lead you," he said and continued after a sigh. "I met Carolina about a year ago. She's a shopgirl in the Abernathy Jewellery Gallery."

"The politically correct term is a sales associate," Petra pointed out.

"I apologise," the Titan said benevolently, but Petra noticed some sort of a glimmer in his eyes that told her this 'professorial' remark of hers wouldn't be forgotten. "I stopped by the Gallery looking for a present for an acquaintance, and we spoke. I invited her to  dinner, and since then we've been in a relationship. Our association has been rather... restricted."

Petra cringed. "If this is your way to tell me it was just sex–" she started.

"It was just sex, but that's not what I was talking about." He took another sip. "There have been strict rules of engagement, and we were both content with them. I'd give her a ring, we'd go for dinner, sometimes perhaps to the theatre, and then–"

He didn't continue, which Petra thoroughly approved of. She lifted her empty glass and waved it in the air. He rose to fill it up again.

"It was all utterly civilised," he said.