voice answered the call.
“Hey, beautiful. It’s me. Got any plans for the night?”
There was something romantic about the atmosphere, Darwin mused as he took a seat in one of the gray upholstered booths in the Andaluca Restaurant. The room had an old-world feel to it with its rich fabrics, cherrywood accents and the exquisite contemporary designs that decorated the walls. He’d arrived a few minutes early, nudging his way past the blue-eyed hostess with the porcelain veneer smile to say hello to the chef. His friend had been guiding a staff of twelve almost effortlessly as they prepped for the lunch crowd.
As he waited for his brother to arrive he studied the menu, making mental notes about the food choices. The selections were very European, fairly simplistic, with generous offerings of grains, legumes, fruits, vegetables and an incredible wine list. As Darwin mulled over the selections, it was only his brother’s prompt arrival that kept him from racing back to the kitchen to see if he could be of any service.
The commotion at the door caught his eye, the young woman leading Mecan to the table laughing warmly as the two headed in his direction. Darwin could almost visualize the events that had them chatting so comfortably. The confused expression on her round face, her neck snapping back and forth as she did a double take when Mecan had stepped through the door had probably been quite comical. It was a typical reaction when folks saw one and then the other, before realizing there were actually two of them. The young lady dropped a second menu on the table as she gestured toward the empty seat.
“Wow, talk about identical twins! I can’t believe how much you two look alike,” she exclaimed, her head waving from side to side. “Your brother scared me to death. One minute you were sitting here, then the next minute you were standing by my side. I didn’t know what to think at first.”
Darwin smiled. “Well, now that you see us together, you can see I’m the better-looking brother.” He gave her a quick wink.
Mecan shook his head. “He’s not shy, either.” He extended his hand toward Darwin, who came to his feet to give him a quick greeting. The duo bumped shoulders in a one-armed embrace before dropping down into their respective seats. “So, how’s it going, little brother?” Mecan asked.
Darwin nodded. “Can’t complain, big brother.”
“Your waitress will be right with you,” the blonde said sweetly. “If I can be of any assistance please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Darwin winked again. “Thank you.”
The two men paused briefly to watch as she sashayed back to the front of the restaurant, both appreciating the overt side-to-side glide of her lean hips. Mecan shook his head as he turned back toward his brother. Making himself comfortable, he clasped his hands together in front of him, eyeing his look-alike curiously. “You don’t look sick.”
The other man chuckled. “What made you think I was sick?”
“There’s something going on with you. I heard it in your voice last night.”
Darwin grunted, a low growl rising from his midsection. Mecan noted his brother’s avoidance, his eyes dancing around the room, hesitant to meet his.
“Yep. Something’s up with you. Spill it.”
Darwin heaved a deep sigh as he finally met Mecan’s gaze. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, an attractive woman with a rich blue-black complexion moved to the table, a pen and pad in her hand. She smiled warmly, a brilliant row of pearl-white teeth greeting them.
“Hello. My name is Mina. I’m going to be your server today. Would you gentlemen like to start your meal with drinks and an appetizer?”
Darwin nodded, almost grateful for the interruption. “I think we’ll start with a charcuterie plate, please.”
“Very good, sir.”
“And, for the entrées, my brother will have the crab tower salad, and I would like to try the North African risotto.”
Mina nodded as she jotted their orders quickly. “Will that be all, sir?”
“No, why don’t you bring us a bottle of that Bootleg Sauvignon Blanc. And, just to get it out of the way, for dessert we’ll try the cheese sampler with the bûche maître seguin, the fiore sardo and the tomino, and two pots du crème.”
“Yes, sir.” Mina smiled sweetly as she gathered their menus, her gaze sweeping from one dark face to the other.
Mecan moved his head from side to side as the woman made her way to the rear of the restaurant and into the kitchen to place their orders. “You kill me! Have we ever gone out to eat together where I got to order my own food?”
Darwin shrugged, the two men laughing warmly together. “Old habits die hard. Just stop me next time.”
“Don’t worry about it. You must have been reading my mind, ’cause I really wanted to try the crab. Now, what the heck is all that other stuff you ordered? The charcuterie and that cheese thing?”
“Their charcuterie is just like an antipasto. It’s a variety of salamis, pickled peppers, olives, and almonds. On the cheese platter, the bûche maître seguin is a goat’s milk cheese served with a black fig jam, the other is sheep’s milk cheese with paprika and almonds, and the tomino is a soft cow’s milk cheese wrapped in Cullatello and served with fresh honey.”
Mecan shook his head. “Do I dare ask what the cream pot is?”
His brother laughed. “Pots du crème! It’s caramel and mocha custards with Valrhona chocolate and cinnamon.”
Mecan adjusted his napkin into his lap. “Well, it sounds like I’ll be eating well this afternoon.”
“I told you I wanted to show the chef some love. You do that by ordering and eating well.”
His brother leaned back against his cushioned seat. “Now, let’s try this again. What’s wrong with you?”
Darwin cut his eye toward his brother, then dropped his gaze back down to the table. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Says you.”
“Says anyone who knows you.”
The two men locked eyes, Mecan raising his eyebrows knowingly. “I know because it’s not often that you ignore a beautiful woman trying to get your attention and you’ve ignored two of them.”
“What two?”
Mecan shook his head. “I won’t even talk about our hostess, but how could you miss the eyes our waitress was giving you?”
Darwin looked over to the woman at the bar, casting furtive looks in his direction as she stood in conversation with the hostess and the bartender. He shrugged again. “You’re crazy. And how do you know they weren’t looking at you?”
Mecan tossed him a look of annoyance. With his elbows propped against the edge of the table he spun the gold wedding band on his left hand between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. “I think the fact that I wear a wedding band and you don’t might have been the first clue.”
His
