“Oh! We can call him back, then, babe.” I raised my hand, knowing he would stop me. It would look like he couldn’t afford it, and he would hate that, especially here.

As predicted . . . “No, no, it’s fine. A special night, like you said. How are you, babe? How was your week?”

“So good, Alexander. So good.”

He smiled, not picking up on the venom in my voice. “Well, it’s great to see you. I hope you can stay a few nights. I’ll be in town for four days. We could have a lot of fun. The Guggenheim has a new show, and—”

I stopped listening.

He had made a pass at another woman. He wanted to sleep with her in the hotel where we’d had sex. That image of him kissing her on the neck . . . it was kind of a specialty of his.

I wished Gillian had kicked him in the nutsack.

When the waiter came back, I was ready. “I’m starving!” I announced cheerfully to both men. “It’s been a tough couple of weeks, Luciano, and I haven’t been in the city in ages, and I think I want a bite of everything! How about the sea urchin with pickled fennel, the Chinese caviar, maybe . . . hmm . . . the red prawn antipasto, and the garden salad, and oh! That lobster risotto sounds great! And for my main course, the sirloin, please. With the roasted potatoes, please. And heck, throw in those wild mushrooms, too.”

Luciano was in love with me now. “Excellent choices, signorina. For the signore?”

Alexander looked incredulous. “Are you sure you can eat all that, babe?”

“I’m super hungry, babe.” Sparkle sparkle. “Plus, you know how these Michelin-star places are. Every plate is basically two bites of food.”

Luciano chuckled warmly. “Signorina, you are correct. Just enough to whet the appetite for the next course, si?”

“Si,” I said, beaming.

“Signore? For you?”

“I’ll have the sea bass,” he said.

“Oh, come on!” I said. “You can’t let me sit here and eat all those courses and just have one! This is an Italian restaurant! To eat is to love, right, Luciano?”

“Si, signorina. The beautiful lady is correct, of course.”

I winked at him. Alexander had flaws, but being a shitty tipper was not among them, and Luciano would leave here with hundreds of dollars from our meal alone.

Alexander ordered a pasta course and the grilled octopus. I would also be ordering dessert. Possibly a dessert martini. Carter had already been notified about my romantic drama as I drove to the New Haven train station, and had ordered me to sleep over tonight, bless him.

I drank the cocktail, wincing a little at the taste but appreciating the warmth.