Chapter Fourteen

"Hope For the Future"

Whenever Quinn and I wrapped up a case, we always celebrated at Moretti's Italian Ristorante. It was our tradition. So much so, that the entire wait staff and owner knew us by name as well as the reason why we were there.

"What was it this time boys?" the owner asked once he'd come over to our table to greet us. "Thieves? Drug pushers? Don't tell me it was another wife accusing her husband of having an affair! Cosa c'è che non va in queste persone!"

I didn't speak Italian and had no idea what the man had just said.

"No, nothing like that," Quinn ensured Mr. Moretti.

I'd learned long ago that Mr. Moretti was a busy man and didn't have time for long tales. He just wanted the facts. "We stopped a bad man from returning Germany," my boss informed him.

"Ah! I read that in the paper this morning! That was you two? Indeed! He was a very bad man! Buon lavoro! Il tuo pasto è in casa. I tuoi soldi non vanno bene qui stasera!"

Before I could request an interpretation, Moretti had walked off. I gazed at Quinn for an explanation only to receive one from Ami instead.

"He's quite the fan," she told us, smiling. "It would seem your meals are free tonight."

"I didn't know you spoke Italian," I mentioned before grabbing a slice of salami from the bowl in the middle of the table. It seemed as if I hadn't eaten in a week!

"A few fashion shows have taken place in Italy. Whenever I visit a country, I always try to soak up as much culture as I can. For some reason, learning new languages comes easy to me."

She was beautiful this evening in one of the more plain dresses I had ever seen her wear before, and she'd had plenty of time to get dressed. As soon as Quinn had mentioned inviting her to dine with us, I'd phoned her. That was several hours ago. She looked like every other woman in here; well, except for the obvious: She was absolutely the best looking woman in here, and it had nothing to do with what she was wearing. Ami would look good wearing a potato sack.

"Are you finished with the modeling business?" Quinn asked while I continued to admire her.

"Most definitely," came her positive reply. "I've been studying political science at city college. However, my lease on my apartment is up by the end of the month. I'll need to find a job and a new place to live before then."

I wasn't going to say anything. It wasn't my place. But for months, Iris had been complaining that there was too much work to do in the office for just one secretary. She'd mentioned something about being promoted to Quinn's assistant and the need to hire another secretary to do her current job. At the time, Quinn had ignored her. I wondered if he'd be willing to consider it now. Would he give Ami a chance at the position?

The man had a talent for reading my thoughts and I was thinking very hard on the subject while I chewed another slice of salami.

"I tell you what," Quinn began. "I've been meaning to hire another secretary at our office for a while. The one we currently have is overwhelmed and could use the help."

I was ecstatic. It would be great to be able to spend more time with Ami and get to know her better. It was up to her though and a few seconds passed before she replied.

"That's a generous offer, Mr. Quinn," she said while I worried she would refuse. "I'm afraid I'm not qualified for something like that. I barely know how to type."

I held my breath. Quinn had initially hesitated in hiring Iris, not because of her narcotics history, but because she could only type 100 words a minute! What was he going to say about Ami?

"Don't worry about that," he told her instead. "I'm sure Iris can teach you the ropes. It's boring work but will provide you a steady income while you're attending school. Think about it and let me know Monday morning."

Ami smiled at Quinn and then turned to me. She was asking what I thought about it only with her eyes. I wasn't about to say a thing because I didn't want to influence her decision. If only she knew how much I hoped she'd accept it! I disguised my enthusiasm with a timid smile and a nod.

"I don't need time to think it over," she replied suddenly. "I'll take the position."

"Good!" Quinn announced happily just as an enormous bowl of spaghetti was placed on our table. Separate bowls were passed out as well and I dug right in.

"Is your stomach gnawing at your back?" Quinn asked while I slurped the end of one of the noodles into my mouth.

"Sorry," I announced to both of them. "The FBI interviewed us all the way through lunch. I'm starving!"

A sweet smile directed at me revealed she had already excused my behavior. Or was she just happy about working with me? Time would tell.

We ate and talked throughout dinner, mostly about Quinn's time in the war, his brothers, and my efforts to stop the plane. Quinn actually went on and on about it, as a matter of fact – something he never did.

"Scheid would've gotten away if it wasn't for Ben," he was saying. "We are sitting in the presence of a very brave young man."

I looked at my mentor with a skeptical eye. That sounded like a compliment. What was he up to?

Instead of cluing me in, he smiled and threw his napkin on top of his empty plate. "I don't know about you two, but I'm full, I'm tired, and I'm going home to go to bed. Miss Berrie, I will see you at eight o'clock sharp Monday morning."

"I'll be there," Ami replied. "And thanks again for the opportunity."

"Don't mention it," he responded before standing to leave. "You two have a pleasant evening. Ben, may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure," I told him, standing to follow him a few feet away. This was it. He was going to tell me he'd made a mistake and wasn't going to hire Ami after all. Either that or we picked up another case – something he knew I wouldn't like, and he was going to assign it to me. "What is it?"

"She's no longer a client. You realize this, don't you?"

I was confused. "Yes," I stuttered back. "Why are you.."

An eyebrow shot up just as a grin spread across his face. I knew that look. It typically appeared whenever he was doing his best to set me up on a blind date - something I'd promised myself to never allow again. Just how many nieces did he have anyway?

But this time, it wasn't about his niece. This was about Ami. Ami Berrie was no longer a client, which meant I was free to date her if I wanted to.

Of course, I wanted to.

"Thanks," I told him. "Go home and ice that ankle. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, doctor," he replied before hobbling off, leaning heavily on a cane and waving goodbye to the staff with his other hand on his way out.

I returned to the table and scooted my chair closer to Ami. She didn't seem to mind.

"What was that all about?" she asked me.

I might as well tell her the truth before Quinn embarrassed me about it come Monday morning.

"It's always been an unspoken rule in the office not to date a client," I explained. "Quinn was just reminding me that you are no longer our client."

I gazed at her to study her reaction. She was an intelligent young woman. Surely, I wouldn't have to explain this any further.

"Why Mr. Noble, are you asking me on a date?"

"Not if this one counts," I teased. "Because if it does, in a way, I already have."

"It doesn't," she teased back with a sparkle in her eye. "I'm not letting you off that easy."

"Very well," I replied, inhaling and releasing a deep breath to calm my nerves. I never was very good at this sort of thing. "Miss Berrie, would you honor me by accepting an invitation to possibly go see a movie or maybe take a walk in the park?" Anything would suit me fine, just as long as I was with her.

"You can call me Ami," she continued playfully before becoming quite serious. "Ben, I'd be happy to spend an evening with you. Shall we say, tomorrow night? Seven o'clock?"

"It's a date," I confirmed.

I had expected our evening to end after we'd had dinner and left the restaurant. However, neither of us was ready to say goodbye and we ended up walking around the city and talking together until the wee hours the following morning.

As the sun was beginning to rise on the city, we found ourselves in front of her apartment building.

There was one thing I was sure of: I was going to be a gentleman at all times with her. Which is why I refused her polite invitation to go up to her apartment. Instead, I'd say my goodbyes here on the sidewalk, as awkward as that might be.

"I had a great time tonight," she told me while looking at me through her lashes.

I might be able to bring down an airplane with a .38 caliber revolver, but I wasn't very good at reading women. Was she waiting for something? Perhaps a kiss? Did she want me to kiss her? What would she do if I tried? Should I ask her first or be spontaneous?

While I was contemplating all these things, apparently Ami became impatient since she was the one who tiptoed up and kissed me. She'd caught me by surprise, although I quickly regained my focus and returned the gesture. She tasted sweet like strawberries and the skin of her upper arms felt like silk.

I'm uncertain how long the kiss lasted but were both out of breath by the time it ended. We'd spent the entire evening getting to know one another and yet there was so much more I wanted to discover.

What I had learned so far was that I was looking forward to a long future together: Make no mistake about it.

/End