I didn’t want to sour the mood, so I avoided the topic of Knox’s family. It wasn’t hard. He asked me about my favorite artists, and he was surprisingly knowledgeable about contemporary art and the influences that had brought me all the way to New York City. I found myself nodding and leaning forward, anxious to hear what he thought about the newest installations in the contemporary art museum.
Silly. It was almost like we were on a date.
A waiter came by with a huge piece of meat skewered on a metal rod. He waited for me to speak, his eyebrows raised.
“Rump roast,” the waiter prodded.
“Uh. Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.
“Yes, a few slices for the lady,” Knox said. The waiter nodded and set the rod on the table. He deftly sliced through the meat. The juicy slices peeled off onto my pl
