DinnerAtCiprianosA black carriage, pulled by a beautiful, matching pair of black horses, driven by a coachman in all black, with no house insignia, pulled up in front of Cipriano's Restaurant. A young man in a cloak descended and slipped inside as the coach pulled away. The foyer of the elegant restaurant featured two towering statues, one male and one female, in a rich green veined marble, one on either side between the outer doors and the inner. The young man noted that their draperies had been removed, again. It was an ongoing tug-of-war between the management and the patrons whether art or propriety would prevail; who was on which side depended on the whim of the moment and the temper of the times. A host, dressed in a version of a Roman toga, bowed to the young man as he entered and inquired, "How may we serve you, sir?" He slipped the Maitre d' a gold coin and murmured, "I am expecting a lady to join me." He smiled as he said her name, "Miss Dionne. When she arrives I would like her shown to my table." The weight of the coin ensured that it would be a private table. "Certainly, sir." The man led him through the arched doorway into the main dining room, murmurous with quiet conversation and the soft splashing of a central fountain. The fountain was marble, too, the water spilling from a bowl uplifted by intertwined naiads. Paintings and statuary of similar Classical inspiration lined the walls, and the ceiling was decorated with an opulent Birth of Venus. The Maitre d' led the way across the main room to a row of doors along the back wall. He opened one and bowed his customer in. "I trust this will prove satisfactory, sir." Inside was was a small, candlelit room, furnished with a table in one corner. It was also provided with a marble faun playing a flageolet and an oil painting of the Moon and Endymion. "Yes, this will do nicely." Decuma nodded as he glanced once around the small room. He removed his cloak and hung it on the conveniently placed coatrack, before taking a seat to wait for 'Miss Dionne'. Before the Maitre d' left he requested, "Have the waiter bring your best bottle of the Bahlmis Pinot Noir. A 3006 if you have it?" "Yes, sir." The Maitre d' bowed once more before closing the door behind him. It was not long before the wine arrived, along with two graceful long-stemmed glasses. The waiter also presented Decuma with the bill of fare for the evening, which matched the décor in that it was designed like an unrolled scroll with gilded tassels at the corners. Decuma merely glanced at the menu, and put it aside. However, as the wine was presented, he did nod for them to proceed and open the bottle. It would be better if it were allowed to breathe. "I will order dinner when my guest arrives," he informed the waiter, dismissively. During the little ceremony of uncorking the wine, Decuma heard a ripple run through the background murmur of conversation outside, a ground bass of male admiration. Moments later the Maitre d' appeared in the doorway and announced, "Miss Dionne." The vision he escorted was nearly as tall as he was, though more slender. Raven curls, dressed high, framed and set off a fine-boned face and light eyes shaded to violet by a gown of a rich damson color. Coyly, it swathed neck and breast in a cloud of ornamental feathers, while baring shoulders and back, and the floor-length skirt was slit almost to the hip on one side. "My lord," smiled Dionne, and curtsied gracefully. Decuma rose as gracefully, taking two long strides to stand before Dionne. He put out a hand to welcome his guest and help Dionne rise from the curtsy. A long-fingered, chastely gloved hand was placed in his, the move smoothly executed as any dance. Turning, he escorted his guest to the table. "You look enchanting this evening," Decuma said as they were seated. Dionne's eyes twinkled at him. "I wanted to be a credit to my escort... and leave no question in anyone's mind about why he should associate with me." Decuma laughed softly. "The pleasure is all mine." He picked up his menu while the waiter displayed one for Dionne; one he was sure had no listed prices. In all seriousness, he asked, "Would you care to choose, or shall I order for us?" "Well, I've been told one should avoid the seafood since we're too far from the water," Dionne said judiciously, "but apart from that, I'll trust your judgement, my lord. Just be aware that you need have no concern about sparing my waistline." A husky alto chuckle. "It doesn't affect me that way." Decuma brought his napkin to his mouth to cover his laugh with a cough, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Let us begin with an appetizer, shall we?" He turned to the waiter, and pointing to the menu items he ordered, "Tomato Bruschetta, and for soup, I think the Chicken Toscana." Then he looked over at Dionne. "Would you like the insalata? Salad?" "Oh yes, I think so. I favor a cream dressing," the waiter was informed. "I agree, and for the main dish, veal Scaloppine," and Decuma finished with, "Tiramisu and coffee for dessert." He snapped the scroll closed and handed it to the waiter. The waiter took both menus with a bow, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Dionne took a slow sip of wine, and regarded Decuma expectantly over the rim of the glass. Decuma waited just long enough to make sure the waiter would be far enough from the door not to casually overhear their conversation before he spoke. "So... did Mr. T seem interested in the 'special request'?" Dionne shrugged a white shoulder. "You must understand, I don't deal with the man personally. But the boss on my end took the up-front money and told me to have the rest of it ready the day after tomorrow." "Good... good." Decuma nodded. It was then that the appetizers arrived, and conversation was quelled while these were served. After the waiter had left Decuma continued. "I also have an address that I'd like you to investigate." Decuma had rewritten the address Jack had given him on a plain piece of paper in a nondescript handwriting. He passed this across the table to Dionne. Despite having a mouthful of bruschetta, Dionne made the paper disappear with the skill of a prestidigitator. "I believe it is near Hangover Square. I'm not sure of the residence inside, but you may recognize someone from the Club. I don't need to tell you to be careful." "I'll check it out. Wait... Hangover Square?" The paper reappeared briefly in Dionne's hand. Its perusal caused a furrow to appear between penciled brows. "Actually I know this place. It's the 'Agency.'" Decuma raised a questioning eyebrow. "Agency?" The salad arrived before he could receive his answer. The wine glasses were refilled, as well. As soon as the waiter had left Decuma resumed, "So, what is this 'Agency'?" "You didn't think they conducted employee interviews there, did you?" Dionne replied, with a familiar emphasis on the word "there". "Most of the hiring is done through the Agency, and ... I think ... other prep work as well. Things the patrons wouldn't want to soil their hands with." Decuma nodded in understanding, as if he'd guessed that's what Dionne had meant. "And this is also a residence? The person known as Geryon is presumed to live there...." Dionne frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone actually lives there, though it does have ... bedrooms." Decuma frowned. "Do individuals being interviewed actually meet those doing the interviews -- or are they ..." He stopped himself from saying 'masked' and instead more delicately said, "disguised." "Anyone who's disguised at that end doesn't appear barefaced at the Agency either," said Dionne. "Or use their real names. Anyone who's uncomfortable with it need not apply ... assuming they have a choice." "Then the one I know as Geryon might be using his real name at the Agency. He knows Tonio, personally, from what I gathered." "I think he'd have to," Dionne agreed. Decuma picked up his wine glass and stared into it thoughtfully. "We might be closer than we realize... bedrooms.... I'm wondering if any of them are housing any guests at present." Dionne's penciled brows went up. "That's an idea. Worth looking into, anyway." "Yes, I think we must." Decuma looked up from his wine glass with concern in his dark eyes. His glance met that of Dionne across the table, as he thought aloud, "Would you have a friend in need of employment that you could introduce to someone at the Agency? Would it be safe to wander while that person is being 'interviewed'?" Dionne's eyes mirrored regret. "They don't encourage wandering. That was made quite clear when I interviewed there the first time." "Hmm. Then we might have to be... creative; come up with some sort of distraction so someone can get through and check out the bedrooms." Decuma smiled. "I'm sure we can manage that. I might have a few friends who could help with that." An irrepressible answering smile quirked Dionne's mouth. "If you're going to send someone in to check all the bedrooms, it had better be someone who isn't easily shocked." Then more soberly, "You do realize that would be very bad for business." "I think they'll survive," Decuma answered dryly, and perhaps with a touch of sadness. "Where there is a demand there is a supply." "And where there's money, there'll always be people who are happy to supply it," responded Dionne, "even when there aren't... other reasons to do so." The door opened to admit the waiter with their dinner. After the solicitous questions and refilling of wine glasses, once again they were left alone. "So, we have a few avenues to explore. At this point I'm not sure what more we can do." Decuma clearly felt the press of time. "Shall we schedule to meet again? Or shall I just plan to see you at the 'Club'?" "I'll be there," Dionne confirmed. "If I hear anything in the meantime...?" One brow rose questioningly. "I am not hard to find," Decuma replied. "A scented letter from Dionne should get an immediate response." Dionne's lips twitched. "To Blackheath?" With a dramatic, injured look, Decuma asked, "Do you think Dionne would be the only woman to have ever sent 'love letters' to Blackheath?" "Oh, surely not." There was definite amusement in the husky alto. "And I don't suppose anyone dares to read your mail...?" "Not the scented ones..." Decuma laughed. "Aha. I'll use lilac," Dionne informed him. "Purple's my favorite color." "I couldn't have guessed." Decuma took in the purple gown Dionne was wearing with appreciation. Dionne responded with a flutter of eyelashes. "As for the note; may I suggest you word it as if we had already met at the location. I'll know you are setting up a meeting for the future and I'll be waiting for you." His companion nodded comprehension, then broke into a smile as the waiter arrived with dessert. "I'm very fond of tiramisu," Dionne stated, then proceeded to demonstrate this despite having managed to put away generous portions of all the previous courses. "Would you care to finish mine?" Decuma asked. He was, himself, rather full, and had only taken a few forkfuls of the tiramisu and sat back to sip his coffee. "It's a pleasure to see a girl with a good appetite," Decuma commented, for the waiter's benefit. "You're too kind, my lord," Dionne purred, and unblushingly exchanged plates with him. The next comment, and the look that accompanied it, may or may not have been for the waiter's benefit. "I have a keen appetite for ... many things." His eyelids drooped and a slow smile spread across his face, as Decuma answered, "I know. On that, I think we are in agreement." |
