Chapter Three
The Troll Within
The restaurant Vivian selected for dinner was a popular bistro, perched on a bluff overlooking the river that divides Slateville between east and west.
I’d gone back to my apartment, gotten dressed, and then waited for Vivian, so she could drive us to the restaurant in her car. When she got me, she nodded approvingly at my clean, and neatly kept though spartan apartment.
I am something of a neatfreak, I’ll have you know. It’s a part of my Troll nature. Before we headed out, I looked in the mirror, and adjusted my necktie, straightening the knot.
“Don’t fuss with your necktie, Darwin dear. Places want us to go to them.”
“Yes, Vivian.”
Though the restaurant was on the less fashionable east side of the river, it commands a dramatic view of the city lights
