Bicycle Built for Two (13 page)

Alex grinned and didn’t leap to defend
himself. Rather, he glanced up at the waiter, who was smiling down
upon them like a benevolent black Buddha. “I’d like some of your
special Caribbean coffee, please, Pierre.”

And that’s another thing, Kate decided
bitterly. How come he knew the names of all these food people?
Stupid question. Because he was rich enough to dine out all the
time. Rich people dined. Poor people ate—when they could afford to.
Kate sneered inside, but didn’t show it because she was feeling
small and unimportant and stupid.

Her stomach took that moment to growl,
embarrassing her nearly to death. Shooting a
you’d-better-not-say-a-word frown at Alex, who pretended he hadn’t
heard the indelicate noise, she forced herself to smile at the
waiter. “Me, too, please.” She hated eating in restaurants. She’d
had no practice. She didn’t know how to go about it. Darn it, they
scared her.

And if there was one thing Kate hated more
than Alex English, it was admitting that so many things intimidated
her. Nuts.

“I recommend our potato cakes, sir and
madam,” the waiter said in a soft, musical accent that appealed to
something deep within Kate’s battling innards. “With one of our
fresh sausages, and a fruit parfait and coffee, it’s the best
breakfast you’ll ever eat.” He kissed his fingers and gestured like
Kate had seen a Frenchman make once. In spite of herself, her smile
became more genuine.

“Sounds good to me,” she said to the waiter,
guessing it wouldn’t hurt her overall state of being as it related
to Alex English if she were nice to this guy. He, after all, was
only trying to make a living. Kate could claim some sort of kinship
with him, as she couldn’t understand or appreciate in Alex. Except
for his kindness to her mother, she amended, because she was honest
even when she didn’t much want to be.

“And me,” said Alex, sounding suave and
man-of-the-worldly.

Not that Kate knew anything about men of the
world except that she’d had to dodge advances from several of them
who’d managed to spot her in spite of her sober attire after
dancing for Little Egypt. The bounders. The cads. The lousy
bastards.

At least, she told herself, she could be
glad that Alex didn’t want her to do anything unseemly in payment
for his generosity to her mother. After the waiter walked away, she
gazed surreptitiously at Alex as she flapped her napkin out of its
folds and placed it on her lap.

He was a good-looking man, darn him. Kate
wouldn’t really mind it if he found her attractive, she supposed,
although she’d kill him if he offered her any lewd suggestions.
Still and all, it was sort of pleasant to know that handsome men
found a girl desirable. With renewed rancor, she pondered the
unpleasant fact that she couldn’t even get that much satisfaction
out of Alex English. He offered Kate nothing at all. Except as it
related to her mother.

Kate called herself at least six bad names
as she considered what a selfish, self-centered person she must be
to want Alex to desire her. Her only consideration should be for
her mother.

Nuts. Alex English drove her crazy, and that
was all there was to it. She couldn’t even think properly around
him.

“Thank you for taking breakfast with me, Miss
Finney.”

She glanced at him, seeking signs that he
was about to spring something on her. She didn’t see any.
Nevertheless, she knew better than to think a man like Alex English
would bother to take a girl like her to breakfast unless he had an
ulterior motive. “Right. What did you want me for?”

He tipped his head slightly and gazed at her
in calm deliberation. If Kate were able to do anything she wanted
to do just then, she supposed she’d first throw a few table
implements at him, then jump up and down and scream, and then run
away somewhere and cry. Then she’d take a long nap. She was so
tired, her eyes felt like somebody had thrown sand in them.

Since she was presently
sitting in a public restaurant and was supposed to be a civilized
adult human being, she did none of those things. Rather, she sat
calmly and without flinching and watched Alex think. Her palms
itched. She
really
wanted to fidget. Darn him.

“I must say, Miss Finney, you don’t believe
in giving a fellow a break, do you?”

She frowned. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how often or in how
many ways I can say this, but I wish we could be friendly
acquaintances. If we can’t be friends. I’m trying in every way I
can think of to help your mother. I’m not doing it because I have
any interest in—in showing you up, I think is the expression.”

“Hmmm.”

“Rather, the fact is that I met your mother,
I like your mother, and I’m sorry she’s so ill. I thought when I
met her, and I still think, that she deserves better than the
Charity Ward.” He held up a hand as if to ward off an attack from
Kate. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the Charity Ward. It’s
a swell place for people who have no other choice, and I donate a
lot of money to the hospital on a yearly basis in order to keep it
running. Your mother, as of the day she met me, acquired a choice.
I have the money to help her, and I’m doing it. I’m sorry if you
don’t want your mother to receive the best medical care—”

“Nuts!” That stung, darn it. “I do, too,
want Ma to have the best medical care!” How nice it must be to have
so much money you could afford to toss heaps of it at a hospital on
a yearly basis. She bit her tongue so as not to say so.

He nodded. “But you can’t pay for it, and I
can. Therefore, I don’t understand why you persist in being so rude
to me.”

She couldn’t, either, although she feared it
had something to do with wanting to be his equal and knowing she
wasn’t. Which wasn’t her fault. Or Ma’s. Or Bill’s. Or even his. It
was her father’s, she guessed, although she wasn’t even entirely
certain about that. Maybe they’d have been poor even if her mother
had married a decent man. She almost laughed when that thought
crossed her mind. If Ma had married a decent man, Kate, Bill, and
Walter wouldn’t exist today.

She heaved a sigh, thinking that would
probably be better for the world and her both. She gazed at Alex,
wondering what to say to him. She knew she shouldn’t be rude to a
man who was being of such benefit to the person she loved best in
the whole world. Because she felt obliged, and a little guilty for
giving him such a hard time, she mumbled, “I don’t mean to be rude.
I’m not used to people doing stuff for me. I—I don’t know how to
take things, I guess.”

He nodded, folded his hands together, and
put his elbows on the table. Kate was surprised to see him do that,
since she’d always assumed rich people were taught proper manners
from the cradle and would, therefore, never put their elbows on a
table. He didn’t speak, and she got nervous so she fiddled with the
napkin in her lap.

After several seconds of fiddling, her
nerves started snapping like the electrical current she’d seen in
the Mechanical Hall. Darn it, why didn’t he say something? She’d
apologized to him. Sort of. Darn it, maybe it hadn’t exactly been
an apology, but it was as close as Kate generally got to one.

And still he didn’t speak.

Finally, Kate decided it was either speak
herself or leap up from the table and bolt out of the restaurant,
so she decided to speak, since it would be less humiliating than
her other option. “Er, what’s a parfait?” She’d never eaten a
parfait before, but she guessed if it was made out of fruit, it
couldn’t be too bad.

Alex gazed at her for several more seconds
before he lowered his hands to the table and spoke. Kate would have
sighed with relief, only she didn’t want him to know how unnerved
she was. “I imagine this one is going to be a mixture of different
kinds of fruits.”

She nodded. “Ah.” That sounded all right.
Kate liked fruit. She didn’t eat it very often, because fruit was
expensive unless you got it outside the fruit stalls before the
markets opened for the day or after they shut down. Since she was
currently working two jobs and visiting her mother in the hospital
morning and night, she didn’t have time to do that, but she still
liked fruit.

The waiter showed up with the coffee, and
Kate thanked him with genuine gratitude for delivering her from
having to be in company with Alex English and not knowing how to
behave. “Thank you.”

Alex didn’t offer his thanks aloud, but he
smiled at the waiter. Kate guessed it was okay to have spoken her
thanks aloud. Darn it, she was going to have to visit the new
public library and see if she could find a book on etiquette.

“And here are your parfaits,” the waiter
said after pouring the coffee. He set pretty stemmed glass bowls in
front of Kate and Alex.

“Looks delicious,” Alex murmured as he picked
up a spoon.

It looked kind of strange to Kate. She
dipped her spoon into the glass, scooped up some fruit, leaned
over, and peered at it. She discerned bits of orange and apple.
Those were easy. There was another fruit in there, too, and Kate
thought she recognized it. “Is this a piece of banana?”

Alex, who was chewing, lifted an eyebrow,
which made him look astounded. Instantly, Kate bridled. Before he
could swallow, she said sharply, “People in my neighborhood don’t
eat this kind of stuff all the time, you know.”

“I beg your pardon? I didn’t say a thing,
Miss Finney. Why are you snapping at me now?”

“Oh, nuts.” Kate felt like crying. Again.
Darn it, why was she always assuming the worst of this man? “I’m
sorry.” There. She’d out-right apologized to him. “I didn’t mean to
be rude.”

“I accept your apology, and thank you for
offering it,” said Alex. “Yes, that’s a piece of banana. Try it,
Miss Finney. It’s really quite good.”

He didn’t sound sarcastic, although Kate
couldn’t imagine why. He was probably storing up a trainload of
sarcasm and would hit her with it later. “I will.” She did. It was
very good. “I like it.”

“Good.” He smiled at last. “Have you eaten
bananas before, Miss Finney?”

She nodded. “Ma and I used to go to the
produce market early in the morning when the stuff was coming in.
You can get some great bargains then, because the grocers are
selling off their produce from the day before. Every now and then,
Ma would find a banana or two. I like them when they’re not soft
and squishy.”

“Mmmm,” agreed Alex, chewing.

Kate dipped into her parfait dish again.
Thus far, she’d identified the banana, the orange, and the apple.
She thought the other orange fruit was a peach, but there was some
white stuff in there that baffled her. Holding up her spoon, she
said, “What’s that white stuff?”

Alex leaned over and perused her spoon’s
contents. “I think you mean the coconut.”

Kate was genuinely surprised. “Coconut? You
mean that white stuff is what’s inside those round brown things
with all the hair on them?” Interesting.

With a chuckle, Alex nodded. “Yes indeed.
Astonishing, isn’t it?”

“I had no idea. Since neither Ma nor I could
figure out what you’re supposed to do with one, we never bought
one. They’re hard as rocks, though.” She grinned, feeling the
tiniest bit more confident. “I know that because I dropped one
once. On my foot. It hurt for a week. My foot, I mean.”

“They grow on palm trees in the tropics.
Like dates. Have you ever eaten a date?”

She shook her head. “No. Too exotic for the
likes of me, I guess. Like coconuts.”

“I doubt that.”

She glanced at him. “Beg pardon?”

“I don’t think either coconuts or dates are
too exotic for you. You’re an Egyptian dancer, don’t forget. If
anything’s exotic, I’d say that is. Not to mention telling
fortunes. That’s pretty exotic, too.”

“Guess I never thought of it like that.” She
was glad he had, however, because she liked the notion that she was
at least equal to an exotic fruit. Which was pretty silly, she
supposed.

The waiter brought the rest of their
breakfast. The succulent aroma made Kate’s mouth water. She guessed
she hadn’t eaten a whole lot lately. She didn’t have time, what
with two jobs—sometimes three—and running to the hospital a couple
of times a day. It took a lot of restraint for her not to gobble
her food, which was the most delicious breakfast she’d ever eaten,
but she managed. She really didn’t want Alex to think any worse of
her than he already did. Her mother had taught all her children
good table manners, and Kate used them.

“This is delicious,” Alex muttered after
polishing off most of his eggs, potato cakes, and sausages.

“Yes.” Kate dabbed at her mouth with her
napkin, a linen number that was probably laundered after each use.
She hated even to think about the soap and laundry bills this place
must have to pay. The coffee was good, too. Kate lifted her cup to
her lips and sipped a little more of it.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss
Finney.”

Kate’s cup hit the saucer with a loud clink.
Her head jerked up. “You what?”

Darn it all, if he was going to prove
himself to be a rat just when Kate had almost decided he wasn’t,
she didn’t know what she’d do. Throw something at him, probably,
thereby causing a public scene and disgracing herself.

He held out a placating hand. “Now don’t get
all upset, please, Miss Finney. My proposition is a purely—pure
one.” He frowned. “A person really has to watch his step around
you, doesn’t he?”

She scowled back. “When men
offer women propositions, they usually aren’t pure. I know you’re
real high class and all, but even
you
must know that.”

His lips thinned. “There’s no need to be
ugly, Miss Finney. I am not the type of man to make an impure
proposition to any female. Not even you.”