Natasha put on a shy smile and gracefully accepted the business card Foggy Nelson offered her.
“Thank you.” She glanced uneasily at the two enormous wolves.
“I had no idea those dogs were so aggressive.
Why do they want to attack me?” Foggy opened his mouth to answer.
Before he could speak, the blind man beside him tapped him in the lower back with his white cane.
“We’d better hurry,” Matt Murdock said.
“Alvin only makes fifty sizzling steaks a day.
If we’re late, we’ll miss out.” Foggy’s eyes widened.
“Right.
You’re absolutely right.” He flashed Natasha an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, miss.
Our late dinner is calling.” Without another word, he hurried to the entrance and pushed the door open.
“Come on, Matt!
I’m not missing Alvin’s steak.” The pair disappeared inside.
For the second time that evening, Natasha found herself being casually ignored.
Nothing about today had gone according to plan.
Oddly enough…
That only made her more curious.
Just what kind of place was this?
Forcing her way past the wolves clearly wasn’t an option.
Fortunately, spies rarely relied on only one plan.
Natasha pulled out her phone and dialed.
When the call connected, her voice instantly transformed into frightened panic.
“Hello?
911?” “I’m in Hell’s Kitchen, Block Thirty-Four.” “There are two huge wolves here.
I think they’re about to attack me.” “Please hurry!” About fifteen minutes later, a patrol car rolled to a stop outside the restaurant.
Two police officers stepped out.
The older of the pair approached Natasha.
“Ma’am, were you the one who called?” “You reported dangerous wolves?” Natasha stared at him.
He’d walked straight past the two massive animals without so much as a second glance.
Even stranger, the younger officer had wandered over to greet them like old friends.
“They’re right there.” She pointed toward the restaurant entrance.
“They almost attacked me when I tried to go inside.” The older officer smiled patiently.
“Those aren’t dangerous wolves.” “They’re the owner’s dogs.” “They’re registered with the department.” “As far as we know, they’ve never attacked anyone without cause.” He looked at her thoughtfully.
“As for why they don’t like you…” He shrugged.
“Maybe they’re reacting to a scent.” As he spoke, he found himself studying Natasha a little more carefully.
Years on the force had sharpened his instincts.
There was something about this woman that didn’t feel ordinary.
Natasha nodded slowly.
“I see.” She tilted her head slightly.
“So if I decide to go inside…” “You officers won’t simply stand by and watch me get attacked by these…
pets?” She emphasized the last word with a faintly amused smile.
The older officer forced a wry smile of his own.
He had a few guesses about who she might be.
“You’re free to go inside.” “I’ll make sure Thor and Doom don’t bother you.” His expression became more serious.
“But let me offer one piece of advice.” “The owner…” “Alvin’s a good man.” Natasha merely smiled.
She ignored the warning entirely and lifted her chin before heading toward the restaurant.
The inside of Peace Restaurant was surprisingly small.
Six dining tables.
Two booths against the walls.
Every seat was occupied.
Foggy and Matt slipped onto the last two stools at the counter.
“Matt,” Foggy whispered, “why were you in such a rush?
You don’t run into women that gorgeous every day.” He paused dramatically.
“…Right.
Sorry.” “I forgot.” “You can’t actually see her.” Before Matt could respond, a petite young waitress approached carrying two glasses of fresh lemonade.
She had just started placing them on the counter when she overheard Foggy.
Without hesitation, she redirected one glass.
Instead of handing it to Foggy, she set it in front of a boy sitting in a wheelchair inside the service area behind the counter.
The boy grinned broadly, two front teeth missing.
“Thanks, Jessica!” The second glass went to Matt.
The waitress gently tapped the rim with her fingernail.
Ding.
“Your lemonade.” “The steaks are running a little behind tonight, so you’ll have to wait.” Then she shot Foggy an unimpressed look before walking away to settle a nearby table’s bill.
Foggy looked personally offended.
“Hey, Jess!” “That’s discrimination.” “Why doesn’t the handsome lawyer get a drink?” He turned toward the wheelchair-bound boy.
“Listen, kid.” “I’m pretty sure that lemonade was meant for me.” “If you hand it over…” He puffed out his chest.
“Mr.
Foggy Nelson will personally write you a glowing letter of commendation.” The boy stuck out his tongue.
Then, with exaggerated elegance, he swirled the lemonade like a glass of expensive wine.
He sniffed it.
Nodded approvingly.
And took the tiniest, most theatrical sip imaginable.
Foggy clutched his chest in mock agony before baring his teeth and pretending to lunge across the counter.
The boy burst into laughter.
The two immediately began playing around.
Matt simply shook his head with a quiet smile.
Foggy’s ability to turn absolutely everything into a joke never ceased to amaze him.
At the far end of the counter sat an oversized steel grill fitted with ten separate burners.
Alvin stood behind it wearing a black apron.
Ten sizzling steaks cooked simultaneously, filling the restaurant with the mouthwatering aroma of butter, garlic, and pepper.
Without turning around, he spoke over the sound of the grill.
“Foggy.” “If you keep interrupting Mr.
Nick Castle’s reading, you can forget about dinner.” “Our friend here brought home a D in math yesterday.” “Hey!” Nick threw both hands into the air.
“We agreed you weren’t going to tell anyone!” Still facing the grill, Alvin chuckled.
“We also agreed you’d stay upstairs and finish your homework.” “Instead, you’re back in the restaurant.” Nick instantly looked guilty.
“I only came down because you stepped out.” “Jessica was working by herself.” “I wanted to help.” Then inspiration struck.
He held up the book in his lap.
“And I’ve been reading!” He puffed out his chest with exaggerated pride.
Alvin finally laughed.
“Of course.” “Our scholarly Mr.
Castle.” He flipped another steak.
“Can Batman teach you how to earn an A?” Using a pair of custom steel tongs, he lifted a finished sizzling steak onto a thick pine serving board.
Without missing a beat, he placed the board onto a tray attached to Nick’s wheelchair.
“Take this to Old Stan.” “And while you’re at it…” “Talk Batman with him.” “Maybe you’ll earn yourself a tip.” “Alvin!” Foggy protested.
“Nick’s just a kid.” “Not everyone is good at school.” “You can’t force him.” “That’ll only make things worse.” Nick rewarded Foggy’s concern with a spectacular eye roll.
Another customer waiting at the counter laughed.
He was a heavyset white man with an exceptionally round face.
Resting his chin on one hand, he glanced admiringly toward Alvin.
“Foggy…” “You really think you’re going to lecture an Asian parent about education?” He shook his head solemnly.
“That’s a losing battle.” “My old teachers used to swear Asian kids were born geniuses.” “I even heard someone claim they knew some kind of secret that made their children smarter.” Foggy snorted.
He clearly wasn’t fond of the man.
“Tell me something, Sheriff.” “Why do I only ever see you here once a month?” He leaned on the counter.
“What brings the famous owner of Sheriff’s Auto Garage all the way over here every single month?” “Don’t tell me…” “It’s just for the steak.” “Hey.” Sheriff frowned.
“You could show a little respect.” Despite sounding annoyed, he carefully avoided using any profanity.
Everyone who frequented Peace Restaurant knew Alvin had one firm rule.
No foul language.
Especially not when children were around.