Chapter Text
“I used to come here a lot when I was younger and more stupid.”
Daniel, who had been doing a crossword puzzle and minding his business up to that point, looked up at the man who stood on the other side of the small table, no doubt addressing him.
"And when was that? Two years ago?"
The man gave a soft chuckle, his soft-looking, cupid-bow lips parting to show a hint of straight white teeth.
The young man, who could not be any older than twenty-two, was dressed in an expensive wool coat over an equally expensive, navy blue suit tailor made for him. Daniel looked him up and down, taking in his cool golden-brown complexion and dark brown eyes that reminded Daniel of chocolate M&M's and Bambi's eyes. His curly, black hair was tastefully pulled back to show the regal beauty of his face.
Daniel's eyes trailed back up to meet the young man who was looking at him with an amused, almost smug expression.
"Look, kid," the man raised an eyebrow at how Daniel addressed him, "I am not looking for a sugar baby. Honestly, I only have enough money in my savings for one drink."
The man laughed, and Daniel found that he liked the sound.
"You're funny. I like you."
And that was another thing; he had an accent that Daniel could not place, but his voice had a calming quality to it.
"I can assure you I would not be the sugar baby." His eyes, a dangerous glint in them, blatantly raked over Daniel, desire and lust reflected in them. "It would be the other way around."
Daniel laughed.
"And I am older than I look."
"Oh yeah, and just how old are you?"
"Forty."
Daniel leaned back in his seat, his crossword puzzle forgotten.
"I am calling bullshit. There's no way you are thirty years my junior. You look as if you should be in undergrad."
A small smile appeared on the man's face, as if he had a secret he wanted to share, and Daniel was intrigued to hear it.
The man gestured to the empty seat opposite Daniel.
"May I sit?"
"Sure."
Daniel watched as he pulled out the chair and sat with the grace of a ballet dancer.
"What's your name?" Daniel was intrigued by this stranger. And he wanted at least a name to check out his background. He may be retired, but his investigative journalist mentality wasn't.
"Armand De Fiore."
"Daniel Molloy."
Armand gave a small bow of his head, his smile a bit too sharp when he responded, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Daniel."