The restaurant was alive and bustling with waiters scurrying back and forth and the hubbub of diners' voices rising above the background music. Abandoning my attempt to figure out why the place looked so familiar, I reexamined the greasy mess on my fork, wincing at the thought of another bite. "This is gawdawful, Nathan – similar to the quality at Dalliance last week."

"Yeah, I thought it might be, Kate. That's why I brought you here."

"Hunh?" I snapped my head to stare at him. "What the eff for?"

"To follow a hunch."

"And spoil our evening."

"No, not spoil. We have the new menu event at Pearl's in half an hour."

"Ooh! That's tonight? Good thing you keep track." I looked again at our appetiser plates and curled my lip. "So, why waste our time here?"

"To analyse why they're getting all the high reviews. I suspect somebody's diddling the online sites."

Swivelling in my seat, I scanned the crowded room again. "Yeah, with high prices for crap like this, there has to be another reason they're so busy."

Eyes wide, Nathan nodded in time with a rapid, "Yup-yup, yup-yup, yup-yup, yup-yup," before he caught himself, calmed and continued, "After last week's encounter at Dalliance, I began digging."

Oh, dear! Overexcited by another rabbit chase – need to play along and allow him to relax. "And what did you find?"

"Remember Dalliance used to be Bluestone? Renamed when it was bought out of receivership last month."

"Bluestone? That's why it looked familiar. But receivership? It was doing so well."

"That's another puzzling bit. Similar to here at Zack's – this was Cosecha before it failed."

"Hmmm." I looked around at the decor, finally connecting its familiarity. "What a sudden collapse that was."

Nathan squirmed in his chair, head bobbing. "Another red flag, Kate. Part of the pattern I'm seeing."

Oh, God! Is he off his meds? Building to another outburst? Need to cool him. I smiled and tilted my head toward the entrance. "Let's quietly pay and leave, Nathan. Ignore this and go enjoy Pearl's."

"No, I need to sort this out. Dinner at Nuance on Friday was also gawawful, to use your expression, and I smell a scam. Too many red flags to ignore, and I need to dig further."

I blew a deep breath. Why is he always attracted to red flags? "Dig further?"

"To analyse." He dry-washed his hands and fidgeted. "Remember the superb cuisine and impeccable service at the media dinners? Those at Dalliance and Nuance and the one here – Michelin-star-worthy. Now, they're down to this heat-and-serve crud misrepresented on the menu."

"Ummm, yeah! The grand opening here was outstanding, and I was so looking forward to this evening." I worked my mouth, still trying to get rid of the salty greasiness of the first bite. "But I didn't have your Friday's experience at Nuance as a warning."

"Hah! Because you played the editing deadline card again. You always use that excuse to stay home."

"Whoa, Nathan! Whoa, whoa, whoa. You know fricking well that my writing is why you don't have to work – the reason you can play restaurant reviewer and wannabe sherlock with no concern about expenses, about time."

"Let's not get into that one again, Kate."

"You brought it up."

"What? How?"

"By saying I use my writing as an excuse."

"Umm, okay. Truce?"

Why do I feel like Sisyphus? I sighed. Once more up the mountain. "Okay, but only if I can get us out of here without you causing another scene. We don't need a repeat of last week's kerfuffle."

After I had paid the tab and we headed out the door, I chuckled. "Only one bite out of yours and two out of mine, the second still on the fork. They'll likely thumb the mess around, micro-zap again and serve them to the next dupes."

"To the hypnotised masses, as you call them."

"Yeah, those who blindly belly up wherever the bloggers tell them is hot." I pointed along the street. "The rain has stopped; let's walk."

"Hmmm! Seven or eight blocks. A cab would be easier."

"We've lots of time." I tilted my head toward his belly. "Besides, you need to work on that."

"Don't start on this again, Kate." Nathan clenched his jaw in a grimace, and we headed along the sidewalk, thankfully, without further confrontation.

Setting a brisk pace, I listened to the increasing heaviness of his breathing, and when it became similar to the end of his two-minute quickies, I sighed and slowed a bit. Maybe Lorne'll be there tonight to cheer me up. 

A quarter-hour later, the hostess ushered Nathan and me into the larger of Pearl's private dining rooms, and when I spotted Lorne among those already gathered, I breathed a contented sigh. Thank God! Directly into a less stressful conversation.

Nathan mopped his brow with his crumpled handkerchief, then nodding toward the door, he said, "Back in a bit. Need to step out and cool down from all that exercise."

I pursed my lips. "And likely to toke, trying to loosen your head."

He shrugged.

"Fine. I'll mingle." I greeted other wine and food writers as I worked my way across the room toward Lorne, enjoying his smile at my approach. "I was hoping you'd be here."

"Same." He took my offered hand and lifted it to his lips. "Been a while."

"Yeah, missed a few events haggling with my editor on a rewrite."

"Again?"

"Still." I winced.

"If he wants the story the way he sees it, he should write his own."

"Yeah, true." I grimaced. "Most frustrating this time, though, is after rearranging scenes and adding and deleting characters, we ended up essentially how I originally had it. I'm now drafting a letter to my publisher, requesting a different editor."

"Why don't you self-publish?"

"The need for marketing."

"You need none now. With eleven books, your name sells."

"Hmmm, yeah. It's now more prominent than the title, isn't it?"

Lorne kissed my fingers again, then gently squeezed my hand as he lowered it. "Might be wise to examine the contract – look at the termination clauses. Consider their consequences."

"Will you help me with it? You understand legal bafflegab."

"Be delighted to. And if it makes sense to terminate, I could do some editing and proofreading – God! I still remember some of the steamy stuff I edited for you in that creative writing course."

"Those were love letters to you, Lorne." I felt my face warm.

He snapped his head back and screwed his face. "What?"

"Passionate pleas for you to look at me as more than a friend."

"Oh! How did I miss that?"

"Hah! So focused on your post-grad. I was surprised to see you in Creative Writing."

"The prof suggested I take it to soften the edge of my legal bafflegab, as you call it." Lorne tilted his head and smiled. "So, you had the hots for me?"

"Still do." I shrugged.

Lorne winced. "Yeah, friend-zoned you, didn't I? One of the aspects of seeing things from an asexual perspective."

"Oh! You're ace?" I gazed into his eyes and pondered. "Never suspected. I thought it was because you were interested in someone else. You were always so popular."

"Never anyone else, Kate." He smiled and sighed. "What delightful times we had growing up. Whenever I see you, my mind flashes to our blanket forts, to all our frolicking and adventuring, to our besties forever pledge. Then as you blossomed through puberty, I questioned my lack of –"

Nathan interrupted as he approached. "I figured I'd find you with Lorne. You never miss a chance, do you, Kate?"

"Cool down, Nate. You know Lorne and I have been friends since we were toddlers."

"And lovers behind my back. About time this came out. I've been quiet about it for far too long."

"Chill! Now!" I turned from Nathan and gazed up into Lorne's eyes. "Would you be comfortable if I told him? The ace up your sleeve?"

Lorne pursed his lips and nodded. "Indeed. Well evident that this needs clarification. But it might be better that I explain it, rather than you."

"Fuck you! Save the pompous tongue-wagging for your whore." Nathan turned and stormed out of the room, cursing us as he went.