Beckett's POV
Callie's hand finds my sleeve again halfway through the fourth course, tugging insistently until I lean down toward her.
'What's this one?' she whispers, eyeing the small, artfully plated dish the waiter's just set before her, thin slices of something pale and delicate, arranged in a fan alongside a scattering of pickled vegetables and a bright, citrus-coloured sauce.
'Looks like scallop crudo,' I say, studying my own plate. 'Raw, but cured. It's a bit like sushi, if you've ever had that before.'
Callie eyes it with deep suspicion. 'Raw fish?'
'Try the sauce first,' I suggest. 'If you like that, you'll probably like the rest.'
She dips the very tip of her fork into the citrus sauce, tasting it with exaggerated caution before her whole face brightens. 'That's good!'
‘I’
