Tell Me No Secrets
“They sat near the back and, at Jess’s insistence, on an aisle. They said little on the short drive to the movie, nothing at all once seated, and only a few words as they walked to the restaurant afterward. They never touched.
The restaurant, located on North Lincoln Avenue, was small, dark, and noisy, specializing in roast beef. They sat at a tiny table for two near the back, and only after they had given their orders to the waiter, who wore a thin gold earring through his nose, did they make a... few tentative stabs at conversation.
“I read somewhere,” Jess said, “that when they started filming Casablanca they didn’t have a finished script, and the actors were never sure who they were or what they were supposed to be doing. Poor Ingrid Bergman apparently kept asking the director who it was she was supposed to be in love with.”
Adam laughed. “Seems hard to believe.”
Silence. Adam’s eyes drifted toward the deep wine-colored walls. Jess grabbed a warm roll from the bread basket, tore it in half, stuffed it into her mouth.MoreLess
The restaurant, located on North Lincoln Avenue, was small, dark, and noisy, specializing in roast beef. They sat at a tiny table for two near the back, and only after they had given their orders to the waiter, who wore a thin gold earring through his nose, did they make a... few tentative stabs at conversation.
“I read somewhere,” Jess said, “that when they started filming Casablanca they didn’t have a finished script, and the actors were never sure who they were or what they were supposed to be doing. Poor Ingrid Bergman apparently kept asking the director who it was she was supposed to be in love with.”
Adam laughed. “Seems hard to believe.”
Silence. Adam’s eyes drifted toward the deep wine-colored walls. Jess grabbed a warm roll from the bread basket, tore it in half, stuffed it into her mouth.MoreLess
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