Chapter 11

Artemas glanced down at the pan, which now contained nothing more than some strings of mozzarella and a few smears of pizza sauce. “Would you like an espresso?”

“It’s too late in the day for me. The caffeine will keep me up all night, and that’s the last thing I need. But you go ahead and have one.”

He raised his hand to call Claudio over.

“Would you gentlemen like to order dessert?”

“No, but I’ll have an espresso, and bring a hot chocolate for my friend here.”

“Yes, sir.” Claudio bustled off.

“Won’t the caffeine in the cocoa keep me up?”

“This is Italian hot chocolate, you young philistine, and no, not in this drink.”

Claudio brought our beverages, along with a plate of biscotti and a mini jug of anisette. Artemas poured some of the liqueur into his espresso and stirred it with a tiny spoon. The cup was equally tiny, and it should have looked a little ridiculous held in his large fingers, but it simply struck me as hot.