Lockout (The Alpha Group 2)
Page 26
"You underestimate me, Sophia. I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve yet."
Linking arms with me, he led me along the pier. I'd expected him to take me into one of the softly lit, glass panelled restaurants that looked out over the bay, but instead he guided me into the back streets. After just a few minutes of walking, we were essentially in suburbia. I kept my mouth shut now, content to just wait and see.
Eventually we ducked into an alley which appeared to be lined with houses. Sebastian stopped and exchanged a few words with a man who was standing outside a fairly unremarkable doorway. After a few moments, we were led inside and down a narrow staircase. The whole thing had a clandestine feel to it, much like that first night we met, and much like that night, I was not disappointed by what I found.
"Wow," I said, as we reached the bottom. "This is awesome."
I had been half right. It was a restaurant, but it was one of the liveliest restaurants I'd ever seen. The room was packed full of people, all sitting at long tables laughing and chatting and passing around colourful plates laden with food. The air was heavy with a million fragrances, garlic and paprika and the sweet bite of fresh chili. The whole place had an amazing vibe, like everyone had a tacit agreement to shed their troubles for one night and just enjoy themselves. I would have been surprised to spot a single unsmiling face.
"Welcome to Mi Casa," Sebastian said.
"My house?" I asked, vaguely conjuring the translation from some long forgotten primary school Spanish class.
He nodded.
"A bit of a strange name for a restaurant."
His smile widened. "It's not just a restaurant. Come on, they're holding a table for us." Taking my hand, he led me up to the front counter. The man there recognised him instantly, and after a few emphatic words, he guided us towards the back of the room.
"This is my favourite place in the whole of Sydney for a night out," Sebastian said, once we were seated. "I don't get to come here very often anymore, but every time I do, I enjoy myself."
"I can see why," I said.
Without us even having ordered, a waiter appeared at our table bearing two glasses and a tall jug of sangria.
"Standard issue," said Sebastian, with a wink. I wasn't complaining. It was delicious, sweet and rich, but with a hint of spice.
After studying the rather intimidating menu, I gave Sebastian leave to just order for the both of us. There were so many dishes that I had no idea where to start.
It was certainly a far cry from the last restaurant he'd taken me to. Quay had been quiet and sophisticated; the epitome of fine dining. This felt more like a well-kept family secret. From the plastic table cloths to the gregarious patrons, to the giant, warming plates of food, it was the kind of place that instantly made you feel at home. At one point, while Sebastian was ordering, he actually had to start yelling because a group behind us spontaneously broke into song.
"Sorry," he said to me, when the waiter had gone. "This place can get a little rowdy."
"Don't apologise. I love it. Who doesn't want a little show with their meal?"
"Well, the meal will be even better than the show. The food here is out of this world. One of the only places that does paella as good as back home."
"I'm looking forward to it." I took a sip of wine. "So you're originally from Spain then? I have to admit, that accent has always confused me."
He nodded. "I get that a lot. I was born there, and my father was Spanish, but my mother was Australian. Growing up, I didn't really watch television or anything, so with just the two of them teaching me to speak, I kind of wound up with a mix of both accents."
"Spanish and Australian, hey? Well, I must say, that's one hell of a hot combination." I thought back to my discussion with Thomas. I longed to know more about Sebastian's past, but I didn't want to push him. He'd already opened up about Liv, I figured the rest would follow when he was ready.
Instead, we played catch up. Finally free to get to know one another, we covered every topic usually reserved for first and second dates; movies, books, music, TV shows. Neither of us had much time for that stuff anymore, but we fit it in where we could. It turned out he was a big horror movie fan, and he loved Jack Reacher books as much as I did.
"He's the kind of practical hero I can get behind," he said.
These were just tiny pieces, almost inconsequential when taken alone, but each one added just a little bit more to the jigsaw puzzle of him that I was slowly assembling in my head.
The food was as good as he'd promised. He'd ordered far too much — enough for a family of five or six — but he waved away my complaints, insisting that I try everything.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked, when we'd about eaten our fill.
"I'm having an amazing time. Although I'm still a little confused as to why I needed comfortable shoes. Are we going to run off our meal later on?"
He smiled like a man who had a secret he was bursting to share. "You'll see soon enough."
About ten minutes later, there was a commotion in the centre of the room. Looking over, I frowned as I spotted the bulk of the floor staff beginning to gather up tables and chairs and stack them to one side. It seemed a little early to be cleaning up, although nobody else appeared to mind. Most of the diners had vacated their seats and were standing to one side watching.
"Kicking us out already?" I asked.
Sebastian laughed. "Hardly. Watch."
The waiters worked with a well-oiled precision, and in a few minutes, all but our corner of the floor was devoid of furniture. I'd had a few drinks by that point, so it still hadn't quite clicked, but a few moments later, the music that had been meandering in the background suddenly grew louder, and the tune went from sedate to bombastic.
"Oh, no way," I said, watching in wonder as the crowd began to drift towards the centre of the room once more, their bodies now weaving in time with the rhythm. The energy in the room instantly spiked through the roof.
"Like I said, not just a restaurant," he replied.
"Apparently not." At that moment, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Oh shit. Are you expecting us to dance?" If I'd been going out with anyone else, that thought might have occurred to me earlier, but Sebastian wasn't the sort of guy I ever pictured going out dancing. The freedom of it seemed so at odds with his iron sense of self-control. I figured it would just make him uncomfortable.
"You look surprised," he said, hopping to his feet.