Chapter 54

“Buon appetito,” he said.

“Thanks, Cesare.”

He grinned and went off to see to his other customers, and Mark stared down at the mussels.

However, instead of demanding, “Whose idea was it to order these anyway?” he placed a few on his plate and teased the flesh out of the shell. “Now, suppose you tell me all the things you didn’t mention that happened on the set of The Food of Love?”

I swallowed a smile, reached for some mussels myself, and began to fill him in

X

AUGUST 31 TURNED OUT to be a lovely Sunday. We flew from Dulles to JFK, rented a car—I had to laugh when I saw it was a Dodge—and drove out to the Terryville Inn on the north shore of Long Island. Because we were there for the Bascopolis/Matheson wedding and reception, we were permitted to register early. Mark filled out the form.

“Not going to use Joseph Wells and Charles Reed?” I asked softly.

He gave me a look. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say something so amateurish.”