“I’m so sorry,” she said as one of the people who’d come with her whisked the martini glass away and replaced it with what actually looked like the drink Beckett had ordered. “One of our… waitstaff,” she said, turning for a moment to glare at Todd, “mixed up a Roy Rogers and a Rob Roy. And as an apology, and in the hope that you won’t mention this to the press or the police or… the liquor board…” Even in the restaurant’s dim lighting, I could see her grow paler. “We’d like to cover your meal, of course, and we’re going to be sending over some complimentary appetizers. With our apologies.”

I exchanged an incredulous look with Beckett. Just how bad was it to serve alcohol to minors? It was probably a good thing that Kat wasn’t here. She would have milked this for absolutely all it was worth. “We won’t tell anyone,” I assured her, and Beckett shook his head.

This woman looked so relieved that her whole posture seemed to change. “Oh, good,” she said, nodding a few too many times. “That’s—wonderful. Here is my card,” she said, taking a creamy piece of card stock and sliding it across the table. “If you would like to visit us another night, please just call and I’ll make it happen. And my apologies again. Todd?” she snapped, raising her voice just slightly, and he stepped forward. “Do you have anything to say?”

“Um, sorry,” Todd said, looking sincerely miserable. “But they both have Roy in the name, so…”

“Thanks, Todd,” she said crisply, and he slunk away.

“There is your Roy Rogers,” she said to Beckett, gesturing at the drink in front of him. “I’m sorry, again.” She gave us a smile, then backed away quickly, the other serious people trailing behind her.

We waited until they had left before I stopped fighting my urge to laugh. “Oh my god.”

“Do you think we should have mentioned to her that we still don’t have menus?” Beckett asked, taking a sip of his replacement drink. “Much better. Sorry your plan to spend all your dad’s money was foiled.”

I shook my head in mock annoyance. “Everyone wants to buy us dinner tonight, it seems.”

“Yeah, I have no compunction about charging the restaurant a lot of money,” Beckett said with a grin. “Should we push the boat out?”

I smiled back. “Let’s.” I looked at him for a moment, then took a breath, feeling like it was finally time to talk about the elephant in the room, the one who’d been patiently biding his time in the corner, just waiting for us to finally talk about him. “Why did you come here tonight?” I wasn’t sure what I wanted the answer to be. It felt like we were somehow balanced, precariously, on a turning point.