"The seafood's great here," said Abbey.
He peered over his menu.
"You've eaten here before?" Yet another surprise—Abbey didn't seem like the right sort of clientele.
"Many times." She suddenly dropped her menu. He momentarily caught her gaze in his and held it before she glanced away. She shrugged casually. Too casually.
"Once or twice a long time ago. I can't afford this sort of place anymore." Her face disappeared behind her menu again.
She was a mystery, this one. A real mystery.
They ordered and continued sipping wine and chatting. The evening was turning into quite a pleasant one, and he was surprised at how easily he could talk to Abbey. And laugh with her.
She asked him about Sydney, and he saw no reason not to tell her which restaurants he liked. She seemed eager to hear about the best galleries in town, something else he wasn't expecting. When he asked her what sort of art she liked, hoping to catch her out, she quickly rattled off some of her favorites.
