Page 14 of Infidelity Rules

Daily Special

African spice-rubbed ahi tuna steaks

Avocado salsa with roasted piquillo peppers and charred finger limes

Cucumber salad with Champagne vinaigrette

Tonight’s special sounds divine and this is a new one for me. And since I have no real idea of the flavor profile (African spice rub?), I will need a taste or two before I can find a good wine match.

“Hey Chef,” I say, finding him in the kitchen, dumping spices into a grinder. “The special sounds fantastic. Can you give me a rundown on the spice rub?”

Chef holds up one finger, advising me to wait and then blasts the grinder for several seconds. “Twelve different spices,” he says, holding the bowl to my nose. “Tell me what you can pick out.”

“Hmmmm. I’m getting coriander, turmeric, ginger and … is that nutmeg in there?”

Chef nods. “Yup. Also dry mustard, cayenne and orange peel, among other things.”

Chef whacks off a small chunk of fresh fish, sprinkles it with the spice rub and sears it quickly in peanut oil.

He lays it on a few fresh slices of marinated cucumber and tops it with a dollop of avocado and pepper salsa.

“Viola,” he says, handing me the plate. “I trust you have something up your sleeve for this.”

He disappears into the walk-in pantry, leaving me to do my job.

The tuna is delicious on its own, but the combination of the soft fish, crunchy cucumbers and creamy avocado really elevates the dish. It’s a riot of texture and flavor — spicy chiles, warm ginger, sweet, dried orange and tart lime.

My red drinkers will likely enjoy a new world zinfandel or Spanish Rioja to amp up the sweetness and combat the heat.

Personally, I would choose a white for this dish and I have just the wine in mind—an unoaked chardonnay with enough body to handle the richness of the plate, but plenty of crispness to slash the spice.

Ah, my work here is done.

.....

The dinner service is winding down so I check on my last table and then wander to the bar to see Julian and let him know to keep an eye out for Dezi.

Simply the sight of the bar with all the whiskey bottles makes me think of Marcus.

Who am I kidding? Everything makes me think of Marcus.

I’m grateful for work and for Dezi’s presence later tonight as I’m whirring inside and need some distraction.

I also need to figure out what to do about Zack on Monday as he’s supposed to be taking me to dinner.

I find Julian behind the bar, as usual, expertly making drinks and nodding thoughtfully as a regular customer spills the most recent details of his life.

I hear snippets about a fight with a brother-in-law and how the ole’ wife brought home yet another cat when Julian catches my eye and gestures over my shoulder.

I turn to see my tiny, blue-eyed and beaming friend make her way towards me, her high heels clacking on the hardwood floors. I duck out from behind the bar and give her a hug.

“Where’s Elliot?” I ask, looking around for this new boyfriend of hers.

“Parking the car.” Dezi jumps up on a stool and smiles at Julian. “It’s been awhile. Do you remember my usual?”

“Already on it,” says Julian, dumping briny olive juice and gin into a silver cocktail shaker. “How dirty do you want your martini this evening Dezi?”

“Positively filthy,” she says, grinning. “And extra olives please.”

Julian slides the murky cocktail towards Dezi and she takes a long sip and sighs. “I needed that. I am wiped. And thirsty. We’ve been dancing for the past few hours.”

“Club Central?” I ask, referring to one of the few dance clubs I’ve been to. “Did you take the lesson?”

“We did. A salsa lesson, but Elliot was doing it just for me. He genuinely knows how to dance. Old-school, lead and follow type dancing.”

“Nice. He knows cheese AND he can dance. You have found yourself quite the man my friend.”

Dezi nods and looks over her shoulder towards the door. “Quinn, before he gets here, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

She takes a deep, yoga-like breath and looks at me. She’s about to speak when Elliot (I assume) swoops in and puts his arms around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her head.

“I’m so sorry my love, parking was a bit crazy. Glad to see you found your favorite drink. You must be Quinn,” he says, turning to me. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Elliot is small but sturdy, sort of like a tall gymnast, if there is such a thing. With his longish, sandy brown hair, big brown eyes and dimples, it’s easy to see Dezi’s attraction.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” I say, holding out my hand for a shake.

“None of that.” He waves my hand away and pulls me in for a bear hug. “I feel like I already know you. And I’m sorry, I know I’ve been taking up all of Dezi’s time. I can’t help it, I’m nuts about her,” he says, wrapping an arm around Dezi’s impossibly small waist.

“Well, that certainly shows you have excellent taste,” I say. “That, and YOUR CHEESE. Holy crap you know your cheese. I love your shop. I have dreams about your cheese.” I glance sheepishly at Dezi and shrug. “Sorry, you knew I was going to have to talk about cheese.”

“It’s okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I warned him.”

.....

An hour later I have thoroughly picked Elliot’s brain about everything and anything to do with cheese.

And now I want nothing more than to dive into a cheese plate.

Or into Marcus’s perfectly form-fitting jeans.

I’m dreaming about gooey goat cheese and Marcus’s sweet ass when Dezi returns from chatting with Julian and sits next to me.

“Quick, Elliot is occupied and I need to tell you something,” she says, gesturing to where her boyfriend and Julian are deep in some dude conversation.

“Shoot,” I say.

“We ran into Elliot’s brother-in-law tonight. At Club Central. I thought Elliot was going to kill him. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“What happened?”

“His brother-in-law, Greg, has been cheating on Elliot’s sister. He essentially blew up the family. It’s been a nightmare for his sister and two young nieces. Greg broke their hearts and now Elliot is pissed.”

I nod, although I’m not sure exactly why she’s telling me this.

She goes on to say that Elliot regrets not beating him to a pulp but has held back because Greg and his sister, Emma, are trying to work things out for their daughters. And yet, Greg was cavorting at a nightclub when he should have been home with his family.

“I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” I say.

“Quinn, he’s enraged over this. He’s so protective of his sister and his nieces. He can’t fathom why his brother-in-law sabotaged his perfectly good family,” says Dezi.

“I agree. He should be angry. I can’t imagine how those kids feel.”

“Quinn,” says Dezi, piercing me with her gaze. “You’re not getting it. He called the other woman a slew of choice words. And then he said, and I’m quoting here, ‘“That fucking homewrecker. How does she live with herself? I can only hope karma is a real bitch.’”

I suck in a breath. Okay. I’m getting it now.

“I know you have your rules and you don’t mess around with men with little kids, but Elliot won’t appreciate the nuance,” says Dezi. “His heart has really been battered by this.”

I don’t know what to say. Except that my dating life is really none of Elliot’s business. So I stay quiet.

“He can never find out, Quinn,” she says. “You know I love you and I understand your motivations for dating married men, but Elliot will never accept it.”

“Never accept what?” asks Elliot, surprising us mid-chat.

“Never accept my offer to provide a dessert cheese cart at Persimmon,” I blurt. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to put together.”

Dezi mouths thank you at me as Elliot grins and nods. “I’d be happy to work with you on that,” he says, delighted. “It would be great for business.”

We say our goodbyes and I engulf Dezi in a hug.

“Relax my friend,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll never tell him. And besides, he’s dating you not me. Why should he care that I date married men?”