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“Why?”
I got a laugh out of her.
“You sound like the girls.”
“I learn from them every day, but there's no point in answering just because.”
“Even they don't fall for it anymore.”
“That's right.” I put my hand on her shoulder by reflex, and she moistened her lips, drawing my attention to them. “If you hate the food, I swear I'll find somewhere else.”
“How could I hate food?”
“Exactly.”
“Is that why they call you the devil's advocate?”
“I'm holding back on that part.”
“He said he wanted us to get to know each other better.”
“I'm good at arguing, but it seems you are too.”
“You acquire one talent or another by dealing with ten very clever children every day.”
“I'll remember that when I need to study for a case.”
“You have a good display at home.”
“I have.”
“Mr. Lennox?” The restaurant receptionist approached us. “Are you going in now?”
I looked at Helena, who nodded.
“Please come with me.”
We crossed the large, well-decorated, and refined hall until we reached the table reserved for us. The hostess removed the sign and pulled out one of the chairs for Helena to sit on.
“A waiter will be right with you.” He hands each of us a menu.
“Thank you.” Helena opened the leather folder and then closed it. “Thomas...”
“Ask for what you want.”
“An orange juice?” Her expression made me laugh.
Helena was a different woman from my late wife, who had also come from a wealthy family, and despite the luxury I was offering her, she refused, which attracted my attention even more. Dealing with processes, agreements, and courts for so long, I had to learn to read people, and she was very honest and transparent with me.
“That may be, but do you like wine?”
“A sweeter one... I'm the type who prefers children's drinks.”
“That makes sense, teacher.” Laughs.
“How nice!”
“An orange juice for you, then.”