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looking at the brightly lit shop windows, enjoying the last of the sunshine. Many poking their heads into restaurants, planning the evening meal.

    How had he missed this his entire life? A ll this movement and activity, sights, sounds, smells?
    There was a palpable essence in the air he could only ascribe to happy people all in one place and it was something he had never experienced before. Something he had never even known was possible.

    “No pickle at all,” he said absently. He took another sweep, encountering only people minding their own business, with no interest in him whatsoever. If anything, a couple of men took appreciative looks at Grace, then turned their heads when he stared them down.

    “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Grace rubbed her head against his shoulder, the kind of gesture that still baffled him. A gesture of affection, totally unrelated to sex. “Being with all these happy people on a sunny day?”

    “Yes, my love. It is. It is very nice.” By now Drake had grown used to Grace’s uncanny understanding of his emotions. A t times, she seemed to understand him better than he understood himself.

    It would have frightened him, but the one thing he had come to understand this past year, the thing that now formed the bedrock of his existence, was that Grace truly loved him. He was safe in her hands, in every way.

    “I checked the map. The restaurant is not far from here. And the opera is just around the corner.” He gave an exaggerated shudder and Grace laughed again.

    This was all so delicious. So unusual. So… so new. He was getting no danger signals at all. He saw very few security cameras and was certain that their hats and sunglasses were sufficient disguise.

    So. They might be able to do this a few more times.

    It would please Grace and damned if it wouldn’t please him.

    A quarter of an hour later, they were at the restaurant.

    The restaurant was beautiful. La Mer. Modern fusion The restaurant was beautiful. La Mer.
    Modern fusion cuisine with French overtones, or so the restaurant site had told him. He had no idea what that meant, but the food smelled delicious.

    It was a large, modern space filled with light. The entire back wall was plate glass doors looking out over the glorious harbor. The doors were open. Directly outside the doors was a long, narrow infinity pool, artfully situated so that it looked as if the edge of the pool merged with the ocean.

    Instead of air-conditioning, there were big ceiling fans and an ocean breeze wafting through the room.

    Waiters bustled by holding plates of food that looked like works of art. Judging from the pleased expressions of the diners, the food tasted as good as it looked.

    Grace stopped on the threshold, looking around slowly. Her face glowed as she sighed with pleasure.

    “This is fabulous! And the food smells so good! However did you find it when you said you’d never been to Sydney before?” She smiled up at him. “What a foolish question.

    You Googled ‘Most expensive restaurant in Sydney’.” He winced. Actually it had been “Best restaurant in Sydney” and La Mer had come up as first choice on nine out of ten lists.

    He’d checked out the floor plan and the promise of an extra 150 dollars had ensured a table at the far end of the room, close to the doors and the wonderful view.

    Seated, he sat back and watched Grace order for them. He didn’t care what the fuck he ate. It would be good. And it was just so wonderful watching her as she concentrated on the menu with a ferocious frown.

    “I hope you like what I ordered for you,” she said finally, after endless discussions with their friendly, patient waiter. It had taken Drake less time to negotiate a ten million dollar sale of arms to an Abkhazian warlord.

    “All fish,” he said with a sigh. He would have preferred meat, but she had him on a strict meat quota and he’d eaten his quota for the month last week. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” he added