“Sounds good,” said Luca. “I’ll have the same. And maybe a bottle of something?” He looked at me as if I had a suggestion.
“I’m fine,” I said tersely. I’d noticed that Luca’s account at the restaurant had been growing recently, including an outrageous order for a bottle of Dom Perignon last week. I knew he liked to show off to his buddies—all less successful than him—but I thought it would be good for both of us if we had a clear head. “Let’s just have water,” I said when Cherise came to take our order.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “You can’t have lunch without wine.”
“One glass,” I said.
“’Lex, ‘Lex,” he said, chuckling. “You treat me like a kid sometimes, huh? When are you going to let me make some of the big decisions? I’m the same age as you, huh? Don’t I deserve to be making my own bil
