for long.”
“Uh-oh. I guess fair is fair.” She led the way to the hostess, who smiled brightly at Natalie and gave her a hug.
“I have a table ready. The best one,” the hostess said, her accent strong. The woman pulled out a couple of menus, but before they moved, Natalie introduced them. The hostess was Mrs. Hanna Evanko—she owned the restaurant, along with her husband.
They were seated in a quiet corner where they wouldn’t be bothered much. A simple round table with white linens. He held Natalie’s chair, which earned him an approving nod from Mrs. Evanko before she slipped away.
He’d been given one of their large menus, but he put it aside for the moment. “Would you like wine with dinner?”
“I would,” she said.
“Anything you recommend?”
“It’s not a big selection, but everything is decent. My preference is red, although I’m flexible.”
His brows rose, but only for a second. Certainly the double entendre was unintentional.
Natalie blushed like a nice rosé, confirming his supposition.
A younger woman wearing the simple black-and-white attire of the staff came to the table with a couple of candles. She looked as if she might be related to the owners. After she lit the candles, she looked at Max and said, “More romantic,” in that same accent.
He caught the end of a sigh coming from Natalie. “Don’t worry,” she said. “They think being single is a disease. But they mean well.”
“I have an aunt Ellen who’s like that, although she’s pretty much given up on me.”
Natalie’s eyes widened, but just for a second. Then she was looking at the menu. “Have you had much eastern European food?”
“No. I don’t know why. What I have had, I’ve liked.”
“If you have any questions, ask away.”
“Am I the first trading-card guy you’ve gone out with?”
Startled, Natalie opened her mouth, but didn’t speak right away. “Yes,” she said, finally, but he got the feeling she wanted to say more.
He leaned forward, as if to tell her a secret, but he was actually checking out the dilation of her pupils, the way her breath caught on an inhale. “I’ll make sure this evening lives up to your expectations.” Then he sat back, picked up the menu he’d set aside and said, “Studenetz?”
Natalie blinked twice as she moved her gaze. She touched her lower lip with her index finger and looked at him again with a smile that might have been wicked if it hadn’t vanished so quickly. “Fish in aspic.”
“Ah. Sounds like that might be an acquired taste.”
“You’re right,” she said, her voice reserved, almost formal. But that blush of hers hadn’t disappeared yet. “I usually recommend the verenyky. Dumplings seem to be popular in every culture.”
“I’ll try those first.”
She nodded. “Good. You can also try my borscht if you’re daring.”
“Oh, I’m daring, all right.” This time he really was talking about food, but watching her swallow gave him a clue where her mind had gone. Then the tip of her tongue swiped that same spot on her lower lip and he wanted to sample that instead.
“I see,” she said. “Brave and daring. That’s quite a combination, and we’ve just gotten started.”
He shifted his gaze to his water glass, but a second later he was drawn back to her lips. He liked their shape. It was easy to imagine how they’d fit against his mouth. “Your turn,” he said, just before he cleared his throat.
“To do what?”
“Tell me about yourself.”
She glanced at him, then away. “The first thing you should know is that this isn’t easy for me.”
“What do you mean?”
After taking a deep breath, she met his gaze again and didn’t waver. “The trading-card thing is an enormous stretch. I’m not what you’d call a social butterfly.”
“What would you call yourself?” he asked, wishing the waitress had brought wine instead of a candle.
“I’m something of an introvert.”
“Really?”
“It’s not that I’m too shy to socialize or go places, but big crowds can be intimidating and sometimes I need time to recharge on my own. The reason we’re at this restaurant is because I felt it would be easier to be around familiar people.”
“That makes perfect sense. Including the part where this is a stretch for you...”
“You have no idea,” she said, with a laugh. “So if it’s all right with you, I’ll start with the easiest question for me to answer. I’m passionate about film.”
Max put his white napkin on his lap and watched her do the same. “Film? I would have guessed books, but film is more intriguing.”
“I do love books, but film caught my attention when I was young and never let go. Old ones. Black-and-white movies from the twenties, thirties and forties. Fritz Lang, Preston Sturges, Frank Capra, Michael Curtiz. I work at Omnibus. It’s an art-film house and conservation center.”
“I’ve been there.”
She smiled, and it was as if he’d said the magic words that allowed her to relax completely. It was a good look on her. “Oh, nice. What did you see?”
“Um, it’s been awhile. The last three years I haven’t gotten out much. Napoleon. The Abel Gance silent film. I’ve been to a couple of short-film festivals, too, and a Buster Keaton retrospective.”
“I was there. For all of those. I help run the programs.”
“You’re a fund-raiser?” He wanted more of this Natalie. She’d been smart to start out with something she cared about so deeply. The light in her eyes and the excitement in her voice were compelling. He could imagine her letting go, getting swept away in his arms. She wouldn’t be quick about it, though, or easy. But she’d be worth the effort.
“That’s only a part of what I do. I’m the librarian but also an archivist. I even teach film restoration and conduct tours of the facility. I’m a jill-of-all-trades, which means my schedule is insane, but I’m very happy. It’s expensive to restore films, to keep the vaults at the right temperatures, buy the equipment. You should become a member.”
He laughed at that. Couldn’t help it. It made sense that she helped with fund-raising. No one would be able to resist her.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks blossomed with a flush that had a slightly different hue. Softer, somehow. “I crossed a line there.
