Ririko said to Jeremiah pointedly:
"I remember only asking your brother out. Since he isn't here, it shouldn't matter if I ask someone else."
A mechanical smile hung on Jeremiah's face. He knew perfectly well that Ririko was deliberately trying to provoke him.
He leaned back in his chair, showing no intention of getting up.
Dick stood there, considering the quickest way to throw the shameless bastard out.
Afraid they really would start fighting, the waiter had no choice but to add a chair and a fresh set of cutlery beside Jeremiah.
The three of them held three menus, like three flags planted on the table.
After the appetizers arrived, the lights came on over the restaurant's stage.
An elderly gentleman in an old-fashioned waistcoat sat in an armchair at center stage, holding a little wooden puppet in a suit.
The old gentleman cleared his throat:
"Good evening. I'm Arnold Wesker, and I'm delighted to bring you a little performance-with my partner, Scarface."
He tilted his head slightly and addressed the puppet in his arms. "Scarface, tonight's audience looks rather nice. What do you think?"
The puppet's head turned slightly, and his mouth opened, producing a dry, raspy voice:
"They look like people who'll actually listen when someone talks. At least they're all looking at us right now."
Arnold smiled. "You always expect too much of the audience."
A scattering of applause rose.
Offstage, a subtle distance remained between the three people at their table.
Jeremiah cut off a small piece of steak and put it in his mouth, lightly nudging Ririko's leg with his knee beneath the table.
Ririko raised her wineglass and looked up to glare at him.
Dick kept his head down as he cut the food on his plate. He quickly finished one steak and asked