Chapter Five
No one had mentioned how long the trip to Toronto would be by helicopter, and Drina wasn’t wearing a watch, so couldn’t check, but it didn’t seem to take long. Though that might have been because she was busy gazing wide-eyed down at the passing lights. She’d expected they would land in another schoolyard once they reached Toronto, so was a bit startled when they set down on the top of a building.
It obviously wasn’t their destination, however. After riding down in an elevator, Harper led her through a huge, majestic lobby and outside to the curb, where a car waited. Drina sighed as she settled against the warm, cushioned seats. She listened absently as Harper spoke to the driver, and then they were moving.
“The Night Club doesn’t do much in the way of food,” Harper explained as he settled back in the seat next to her. “So I booked a table at a restaurant for supper. I hope that’s all right?”
“Of course,” Drina said with a smile. “Actually, now that you mention it, I am rather hungry.”
“So am I. Now we just have to hope that this restaurant is good,” he said wryly. “I called my vice president for suggestions of where to go, not thinking that as an immortal he doesn’t eat. He assured me this place is good, though, for what that’s worth.”
“Your vice president?” Drina asked curiously.
“I have a frozen-food business,” he admitted with a self-deprecating grimace. “Silly, I suppose, for an immortal to run one, but I was a cook when I was much younger, and while I eventually lost interest in eating, I never really lost interest in food itself,” he admitted, sounding embarrassed. “So my business down through the centuries has always been in some area of food service or other. Pubs, restaurants, and finally, frozen entrees. We’ve branched out to wine as well the last decade or so.”
“Oh, well that’s—” Drina paused and glanced out the window as the car slowed and pulled to the curb.
“It wasn’t far, but I thought with it being so cold tonight, a car might be the better bet,” he explained, and then leaned forward to say something to the driver. She caught what sounded like there was no need for the man to get out and get the door, and something about calling when they were done here, and then Harper opened his door and slid out. By the time Drina slid across the seat, he had turned back and was holding out his hand.
Smiling, she clasped his fingers and lifted one booted leg and then the other out to the sidewalk, trying not to panic as she felt her skirt slide up her legs. That concern was forgotten, however, as she felt the slippery surface of the sidewalk under her boot. Holding her breath, she stood up, relieved when her feet stayed under her, and she didn’t do anything as unglamorous as fall on her butt on the icy concrete.
Harper ushered her a step away from the door, and then turned back to close it. The moment he’d turned away, she gave her skirt a quick tug to put it back where it belonged. By the time he turned back, she had finished and was smiling calmly.
He ushered her inside, and Drina glanced around as he spoke to the maitre d’, noting the low lighting, the crisp white linen, blood red candles, and what she would bet was real silver on the tables. Almost all of which seemed occupied. Then Harper was taking her coat and handing it along with his own over to a smiling young man in a black tux who whisked them away as another young man, similarly outfitted, led them through the quiet restaurant to one of the few unoccupied tables she could see.
“Thank you,” Drina murmured, accepting the menu offered to her. She then glanced around again as the fellow left. The restaurant was busy, but the atmosphere subdued, soft music playing unobtrusively in the background and the dinner guests speaking in soft tones. A far cry from the restaurant where they’d had their lunch that day. There the music playing had been some form of rock or pop, played loudly enough that people had to speak up to be heard over it. This was nicer, Drina decided, and smiled faintly as she turned her attention to her menu.
“So,” Harper said moments later, as their waiter left with their orders. “You know about my little business. How about you? Have you always been a hunter?”
Drina smiled wryly at the “little business” bit. She doubted men with little businesses had helicopters, BMWs, and diamond-encrusted watches like the one Harper was wearing this evening. But she didn’t comment on any of that, and merely said, “No.”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “No?” he asked with disbelief. “That’s it?”
“No, Harper?” she suggested mildly, but knew her eyes were twinkling with amusement and gave up teasing him. “Okay. Let’s see . . .” She considered her past, and then smiled wryly and shook her head. “Well, I was a perfume maker, Amazone, concubine, a duchess, a pirate, a madam, and then a hunter.”