Chapter 31

Marc wasn’t sure whether he was slightly tickled at the awkwardness of the dinner, or a little annoyed. Of course, he acted the polite guest and gave Sinead her due compliments on the dinner - the steak was good, and the potatoes were nice and crisp, but the bacon around the asparagus had gone a little tough. Both of the women also seemed to relax a great deal once the wine was uncorked. Jules in particular raised her eyebrows at the first sip.

Marc sat back for the beginning of the meal, letting Sinead weave her little tale of partnering with him. He noticed that she didn’t tell any overt lies to her former partner, and apparently very good friend, but she understandably downplayed the arrangement as a whole. By the time Jules seemed mollified, Marc was helpfully offering his own insights into what they had discovered so far.

“Alright, fine,” Jules finally said, gesturing with her steak knife in a concerningly cavalier way considering how sharp it was. “I’ll make this whole thing disappear in the background, at least for as long as I can. But, I have a serious question.”

“What?” Sinead asked.

“Are you two fucking?”

Marc chuckled softly, but the look in Sinead’s eyes of momentary panic concerned him. Moreover, he was annoyed by her response.

“Are you kidding me?” Sinead asked. “This, us two? That wouldn’t ever work. Way too different, and it would be super weird. Seriously, I’d rather go on a date with your cousin again.”

Marc clenched his teeth, just once, and then smiled. “Pardon, Detective, but I can assure you that the Detective and I have not engaged in sexual intercourse.”

“I had to ask,” Jules said with a shrug.

If Marc didn’t like how Sinead had reacted in the moment, he really didn’t like her satisfied sigh at having pulled one over on Jules at the expense of Marc’s ego. She seemed to have forgotten who exactly was wielding the leverage and power between them, which meant a lesson was in order.

“Detective, I was wondering what your ancestry is?” Marc asked Jules. “Usually I am fairly astute at identifying Asian heritage, but your striking features illude me.”

“Please, drop the Detective crap,” Jules said. “I’m off duty. Just call me Jules. And my family is Japanese-Canadian.”

“日本に旅行したことがありますか?” Marc asked.

Jules’ eyes widened a little, and Sinead’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, I’m very rusty at Japanese,” Jules said. “Did you ask if I’ve travelled there?”

“I did,” Marc said. “And it was likely my accent. I’ve done business with some Japanese firms and dabbled on Rosetta Stone, but I’m certainly not conversationally fluent.”

“I should probably hop on that myself,” Jules sighed. “My parents have been bothering me to take a vacation and go back with them to see extended family. Have you been?”

Marc put on a charm offensive. He had been, twice, though hadn’t been able to explore nearly as much as he would have liked. He talked about the streets of Tokyo, and some of the interesting restaurants he’d eaten at. That led to talking about travel in general and he really took control of the conversation. And he could tell that, at first, Sinead was just happy things were going well and that she wasn’t in deep shit with Jules.

But then Sinead started to notice other things. Her eyes widened a little when Jules touched Marc’s arm. She noticed that he was paying most of his attention to Jules. Her eyes lingered when Marc took Jules’ hand and traced a map on it, describing the time that he was diving around a wreck in the Mediterranean.

The first bottle of wine disappeared, and Sinead poured herself a large glass from the second. She suggested they move to her little living area to relax, but Marc insisted that he help by cleaning up, and Jules agreed, and soon the three of them were in the kitchen together washing dishes.