Christina leads them to the corner table closest to the water, table number 1, also known as “Dirty Harry.” It’s not surprising that this is where they’re sitting, considering that, for JJ, Mario Subiaco ranks right up there with God, Santa Claus, and Clint Eastwood—though now Christina is probably wishing she could pivot and put them at table 24 in the opposite corner or even inside.
Mario pulls out Lizbet’s chair and Christina hands them menus and says, “We have a Whispering Angel rosé fountain here at the Deck. We sell our signature wineglasses for fifty dollars apiece. They’re yours to take home and you may have as many glasses of the rosé as you’d like.”
Lizbet stares at Christina. Is she actually giving Lizbet the spiel when Lizbet was the one who dreamed up the idea for the rosé fountain in the first place, when Lizbet was the one who repurposed a salvaged garden fountain that she bought from Marty McGowan, the Sconset Gardener? That fountain is hers, not Christina’s. How dare Christina do this; she’s either clueless or being catty.
Mario waits until Christina’s finished, then reaches across the table and squeezes Lizbet’s hand. “Thanks for that, Tina. Would you mind giving us a second?”
Christina blinks. “I’m also the sommelier here…”
Lizbet nearly squawks. What happened to Goose? Did JJ fire him so that Christina could take over the sommelier job? She realizes she’s crushing Mario’s fingers and she eases up a bit. She reminds herself it’s no longer any of her business.
“So let me bring by the wine list—”
“Not just yet, Tina, thanks,” Mario says.
Take the hint, Tina, Lizbet thinks. Scram.
Christina lingers and then very distinctly addresses only Mario. She touches the sleeve of his beautiful blue blazer with her French-manicured fingers. Lizbet realizes that it’s not beyond Christina to throw herself at Mario. “I know Chef will want to come out and say hello.”
Mario keeps his eyes locked on Lizbet’s. “Thank you.”
Another few beats pass while Christina tries to figure out what’s going on.
Finally, Lizbet gives Christina a look like a harpoon through the lungs. “Thank you, Christina.”
Christina takes a stutter-step back and Lizbet’s eyes follow, thinking she’s going to fall into table 3, which is occupied by…Ari and Lyric Layton. Ari and Lyric are deep in conversation, and Lyric is upset, wiping at her eyes, so they don’t notice Christina, who rights herself at the last minute, nor do they appear to see Lizbet.
When Christina finally heads back to her station, Mario says, “Should we get out of here?”
“Yes,” Lizbet says, and they go.
Back in Mario’s truck, Lizbet isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Laugh, she thinks—and she does. They walked out of the Deck holding hands, Mario leading the way, Lizbet ignoring all the people calling after her. When they reached the front, they encountered Christina and JJ having a whisper-fight, Christina no doubt saying something to the effect of Mario Subiaco showed up with Lizbet! They were rude to me! Christina’s back was to Mario and Lizbet, but JJ saw them and said, “Whoa, hey…are you leaving, Chef?”
Mario stopped. “We’re going someplace where the service is a bit more polished.” He saluted JJ. “Good to see you again.”
JJ followed them out the door. “Wait,” he said. “Lizbet, come on, don’t be like this.”
Mario held the passenger door of his truck open and Lizbet climbed in. She waved at JJ as they pulled out.
She doesn’t know where they’re going; she doesn’t care. Mario heads into town, where people are out and about in full July revelry. There’s a group of young women having a bachelorette party; families; happy couples and one couple arguing, which reminds Lizbet of seeing the Laytons. Lyric Layton, who is one of the calmest, most Zen people Lizbet knows, was crying at the Deck. Something must have been very wrong.
Lizbet suspects Mario is taking her to the Club Car, but they bump over the cobblestones of Main Street, so then she thinks they must be going to Nautilus. Then they pass Nautilus and Lizbet thinks, Lola? She’s with Mario Subiaco, the former king of the Nantucket restaurant world. They’ll be able to walk in anywhere.
Mario pulls down the white-shell lane behind Old North Wharf and parks in a spot marked RESIDENTS ONLY. He says, “I probably should have checked with you. Is it okay if I cook for you at my place?” He smiles. He’s so fine, Lizbet thinks. Now that JJ and Christina have been properly humiliated, she feels energized—and nervous—for another reason. She’s on a date with Mario flipping Subiaco! He’s going to cook for her!