Chapter Six

Xavier

I arrived at Zorollos ten minutes early and went inside to speak with the owners of the prestigious, award-winning restaurant—Jarod and Penny, who were good friends from school. The place was located in Casantra, a few minutes' drive from my home in Fritton, a suburb on the other side of the mountain.

Home was a three-bedroom period cottage that had been built in 1860. I'd bought it as a neglected, dilapidated ruin but it was on a large plot of land and what remained of the building had good bones.

I searched the internet and eventually found a company who prided themselves on period rebuilds using authentic materials and there hadn't been a bad review amongst the hundreds published. It had taken six months to meticulously reconstruct Butternut Cottage, a name it had been given when the original owners had painted it a yellowy orange color. The final results had been outstanding and worth every penny. The company had also taken care of furnishing and decorating the interior, taking direction from me on every detail of the property. I'd been conscious of the potential to be overdemanding and our relationship had been an amenable one.

"Xavier," Jared greeted me with an outstretched hand, and we shook as soon as I stepped inside, while he peered over my shoulder. "Not your usual evening to dine here. Penny said you were bringing someone, that it wasn't Cillian, and to set a table for two. I must say the information shocked me and I thought Penny must have misheard your request."

"Penny heard correctly. I will have a lady joining me in a few minutes, but I'm early so came in to say hi."

"Xavier!" Penny rushed forward and crushed me in a hug before pressing a kiss to my cheek and taking a step back. She glanced around, none too subtle and no doubt looking for my plus one. "I thought you said you were bringing someone?"

"I am, she should be here in a few minutes. I just wanted to say hi before I go back outside to wait for her to arrive."

"What's her name?" Penny asked, always the curious one of our group and not hesitant in inquiring about what she wanted to know. I often said she would never die wondering about something or someone.

"Otsana, and she's a lady I met earlier this afternoon."

Penny and Jarod's eyebrows shot up in unison and I barked out a laugh. "I wish you two could see the looks on your faces."

"You met today?" Jared asked, somewhat confused.

The couple knew me as a standoffish man who had been unwilling to ‘put myself out there' and take a risk where women were concerned. For twenty years I'd been happily single, but Otsana had me questioning whether or not I'd stay that way now I'd met her.

"Yep. We had a meeting at 2 pm this afternoon." I shrugged. "What can I say? I spent around three hours with the lady, and she attracted me like no one before."

"I cannot wait to meet this woman who appears to have cast some kind of magical spell over you. I've never seen you so content and relaxed. Is she a witch? Someone from an alien world?" Penny grinned.

I shook my head at Penny's ridiculous comment. "Behave yourselves and don't embarrass me or her over dinner."

The pair snapped their heels together and saluted, causing me to laugh.

"I'm going outside to meet her when she arrives."

I headed back outside and waited on the driveway where two old gas lanterns on posts, that had been converted to electric, illuminated the entry steps.

The restaurant was a dark stone building with a medieval feel. Highly polished walnut wood framed the windows, and the entry door was also a thick slab of walnut with black iron decoration. Tables and chairs were made from the same timber and the legs were intricately carved. Four chandeliers, suspended from the ceiling with thick black chains, were turned low to create a romantic atmosphere which was further enhanced by large candles in the center of each table that flickered as the flames danced. Red tablecloths matched the color of the velvet on the seats and backs of the chairs. White napkins were a stark contrast to the dark colors as were the finest quality silverware and glassware.

The circular driveway led to a parking lot for diners, and it was where one of my few indulgences—a 1960 red Chevrolet Impala convertible was currently parked. Like my house, it had been carefully restored. The exterior was red with splashes of white and a white top and white-wall tires complimented the large expanse of red. The interior boasted houndstooth red and white upholstery, a red dashboard, and carpet.

The car had been a wreck, and Cillian had insisted there were much better buys, but I'd insisted on a three-speed manual transmission because I liked to ‘drive the car' and the rumbling V8 motor was what dreams were made of as far as I was concerned. My other indulgence was a vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle and on bright, sunny days there was nothing better than taking her out on the highway, opening the throttle, and feeling the wind in my face.

I loved vintage vehicles I could work on myself rather than the computer-controlled cars of the day that were not only temperamental, but one needed an advanced computer science degree to fix anything on them. Just my opinion of course and something modern day cars did have in their favor was they were cleaner and kinder to the environment. It was the reason I owned a small Mercedes hybrid for getting to work and back every day.

The familiar rumble of a V8 engine, something not often heard these days, reached my ears and I stepped forward and craned my neck in the direction of the sound, searching the inky blackness for the vehicle. Headlights shone in my direction when the driver turned into the restaurant driveway and a black Porsche928 2 Door came to a stop, just missing my toes.

A young woman stepped from behind the wheel, moved to stand at the bonnet of the car and grinned, probably at the expression of adoration on my face.

I unglued my eyes from the car to run them over the lady. She was tall, probably only a couple of inches shorter than me and in the tightly fitted white dress she wore, I could see she had a body similar to a female bodybuilder. Silvery white hair cascaded around her shoulders and her eyes were the palest blue I'd ever seen. I turned my attention back to the real object of my interest—The Porsche, and an involuntary groan escaped my mouth when I noted it was the edition where the engine had been moved to the front.

"Are you going to stand there making sounds like you're having an orgasm over my car or step back out of the way so your dinner date can get out?"

My eyes snapped to the passenger door that I stood blocking since the woman driving had almost run over my toes. I stepped back, reached for the handle, and opened the door, offering my hand to assist Otsana to climb out of the low-slung vehicle.

Once she was standing before me, I raked my eyes over her and was rendered mute. Otsana wore a pink number that fit her like a glove and showed every one of her delectable curves. Her hair was swept up on one side and held back with a jeweled comb that glittered beneath the lights. Her hair tumbled almost to her hips and I wanted to tangle my fingers in the gorgeous curls. Her friend was beautiful but didn't hold a candle to Otsana who was breathtakingly stunning.

Otsana tilted her head, and I noted her eyes twinkled with mischief. She must have known how I'd be affected by her beauty. I unglued my tongue from the roof of my mouth and willed my over-interested dick to stand down.

"What did I tell you?" The nameless woman, who now stood beside me, asked Otsana.

She glanced down at my crotch, and I dropped a hand over the defiant package.

"If his dick's interest is any indication, he thinks you look as spectacular as I said you did."

I snapped my attention to the woman, who it appeared had a mouth with no filter, and offered my hand. "And you are?"

"This woman, with a brain totally divorced from her mouth, is my now ex best friend, Zarina Templeton. Zarina, meet Xavier Bennett."

"Isaac Templeton's daughter?" I asked.

Isaac was a local senator who came from old family money and was extremely influential. Rumors swirled about him not being who he appeared but fuck if I knew what his detractors were alluding to and hadn't really given it any thought since I voted for his opposition.

"One and the same. You know him?"

"Not personally, only by name like most other people around here." I inclined my head back at the car. "1978?"

Zarina shook her head. "Close…1979. You know your cars, there is very little difference between the two."

"Classic vehicles are my passion. Why not the more popular red?"

She shook her head almost violently and I grinned. "Black…Porsche should always be black."

Die-hard tragics that loved the 911 and 928 would only ever consider black.

"I agree with you." I turned to Otsana who had been somewhat ignored as Zarina and I spoke. "Ready for dinner?"

"Lead the way." Otsana pierced Zarina with a glare. "I'll speak with you later, stay out of trouble tonight, and thank you for the ride."

"Pleasure. Have a good evening. I'm sure Xavier will be happy to take you home, especially if he thinks there is a reward involved."

"Zarina!" Otsana shouted and I watched as pink tinged her cheeks.

Zarina waved a hand in the air, totally unperturbed by Otsana's visible annoyance. "I'm leaving. Night Xavier, it was nice meeting you."

"Night Zarina. Drive carefully."

Zarina tossed a hand over her shoulder, dismissing my advice. I had a feeling the lady was a force to be reckoned with and did things her own way. Otsana and I waited while she climbed behind the wheel and brought the engine to life before rumbling out of the driveway and into the night.

"Sorry, Zarina can be rather outspoken," Zarina apologized.

I gathered her hand, noting how soft the skin of her palm was against mine. "It's rather refreshing to meet someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind. Most people dance around me because of my wealth and the fact they usually want something."

"Still, she could be a little more tactful."

We talked while climbing the stairs to the entry door.

"I suspect it wouldn't be Zarina if she was forced to consider what she was saying," I mused.

I pulled open the door and Otsana stepped into the dim light of the restaurant. And yes, my eyes did drop to her very shapely ass.

Penny and Jared noticed the moment we stepped inside and headed straight over to where we stood. I introduced Otsana to them both and they shook hands.

"Wow, I can see why Xavier was taken with you and wants to get to know you much better," Penny stated.

I looked down at Otsana who was blushing. "You're not the only one with a friend whose mouth doesn't have a filter."

"I suggest they are introduced to each other. I can only imagine the conversations that would take place," Otsana laughed.

"Ignore her," Jared stated, earning him an elbow to the ribs.

We were shown to a table for two and I pulled out a chair for Otsana, waiting for her to be seated before sitting opposite.

***

We placed our order and Otsana opted for a glass of white wine while I had my usual red. I took a sip and settled back to learn more about the intriguing woman.

"You look beautiful, Otsana. Thank you again for agreeing to join me for dinner."

"Thank you. Do you come here often?" Otsana asked, glancing around at the interior.

"Penny and Jared, the owners, are close friends from school so I usually come every second Thursday and we catch up on each other's news."

"Do they always keep a table available?"

"Not outside my usual nights. Fortunately, they had a last-minute cancellation tonight, but Jared would have fitted an extra table in for us if necessary."

"Do you often bring someone with you?"

Ah…Otsana was fishing. "I have never invited anyone to join me until now. This place is special and until I met you earlier tonight, I had no desire to share it with a woman. Every few weeks Cillian dines with me but he's usually too busy chasing women. Most nights I cook for myself at home. I find it relaxes me after a long day."

"You cook for yourself?" Otsana was clearly surprised.

"I do almost everything for myself. I have no full-time staff in my home, but I do have a cleaning lady come in every week and she also does my laundry."

"That surprises me, I thought you would have quite a few staff. I'm flattered you chose me to be the first to share dinner here with you."

"My turn to ask questions. Are you seeing anyone?"

Otsana sipped her wine, placed the glass on the table and looked into my eyes. "No…"

When she didn't continue, I asked, "What happened?"

I waited while our server placed bowls of crab bisque in front of us and left to return to the kitchen before expecting an answer.

"I had been seeing someone until about two years ago. We had been together for a little over six years and I had been hoping he would ask me to marry him. I arrived home early from work after our case was wrapped up and found him in bed with a woman I'd thought was a friend."

"Ouch. So your comments at the office about not trusting anyone outside family now make sense. I'm very sorry you were hurt."

"Best I discovered the deception before we married."

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm thirty-six, thirty-seven in March next year. Now it's my turn. How old are you, it wasn't included in your profile?"

"Thirty-nine, forty in September. I have managed to keep my age and a few other personal details away from the vultures in the media."

"Relationships?"

"Nothing long term. I'm usually far too busy and no one has caught my eye until now." I looked deep into Otsana's mismatched eyes and watched as her cheeks pinked.

"Why me?"

"Honestly?"

"It's what I'd prefer," Otsana answered before taking a mouthful of bisque and a bite of fresh, crusty bread.

"I have no idea, but when we first met, I felt an overwhelming attraction that I still cannot explain. Something in me insisted I reach out and grab the opportunity to know you better. A bit other worldly and strange, but…"

"I felt something also which is why I agreed to dinner."

We ate in silence until the bread and bisque were finished. The server materialized and whisked the dishes away.

"How long has Cillian been seeing Maria Aladrotti?"

"I'll answer this question but no more shop talk."

"Sorry, we'll discuss it tomorrow."

"No, it's fine. Cillian and I were frustrated with so many dead ends and decided to do some more investigations of our own. We thought Maria, being the daughter of a mafia boss who has his fingers on the pulse of everything happening everywhere, might spill on something her father might have said that could be relevant to our insider trading. Cillian drew the short straw on spending time with her and Evan said it was worth a try. After a week, Cillian realized she either knew nothing or wasn't as dumb as we'd hoped, and last night, he called it quits."

"When my team and I read the file we were wracking our brains, trying to figure out why Cillian would jeopardize the security of the company by seeing the daughter of a criminal mob boss."

"Mystery solved. How did you come to be on the force and why corporate fraud?"

"The old story of always wanted to join the force to help people and when I made detective, I was seconded to the major crime squad, a coveted position. The corporate fraud squad had one of their detectives killed in a parachuting accident and I was asked to fill in on a case they were halfway through. I found I enjoyed delving into corporate business and had good instincts for weeding out fraud. After the case was solved, I requested a permanent transfer. The bosses were gob-smacked because major crime is a coveted squad and positions are easy to fill, while corporate is considered the lesser team and no one wants to be there. They agreed when I insisted, and I've been there ever since…About eight years now."