Lejla's small restaurant closed on Mondays. That week, however, she agreed to prepare dinner for an investor considering a lease on the neighboring premises. His message said he would be coming with a business partner. When he appeared alone, carrying roses and a bottle of wine, the waitress looked toward the kitchen.
"Something came up for my partner," Ognjen said. Instead of leaving the roses on the counter, he held them out to Lejla as though she had already accepted the role of a woman expecting them. She thanked him and placed the flowers in a water jug. Then she showed him the table by the window, set for two.
Ognjen knew that her husband, an architect, was temporarily working in another city. During their telephone negotiations, he had remarked several times that it was a shame such a beautiful woman ate alone. Lejla had replied that she usually ate with her staff. She had thought that was clear enough.
For the starter, she served an onion tart. The main course was roasted vegetables with the same onion, and beside the salad she brought a lightly pickled version. Ognjen tasted the food and praised it. Then he laughed. "All on the same theme? Haven't you got something more exciting for a guest like me?"
Lejla sat opposite him with the lease folder. "The same ingredient can take many forms. Its name still doesn't change." She opened the folder. "This is a business dinner. That doesn't change because you've come alone, either." His smile remained, but he no longer knew where to direct it.
He tried to call it all a joke. Serious women thought too much about harmless attention, he said. Lejla did not defend her seriousness. She called the waitress to bring a third plate and asked her to join them. She offered Ognjen a choice: they could go through the contract, or she could bring his bill. He chose the contract and, for the first time, asked specific questions.
The next day, he sent an offer with a better price and a personal message unrelated to the property. Lejla answered only the business part, declining to work with him. Three months later, a ceramic artist and a bookbinder rented the premises. They made no grand promises, but they paid on time and occasionally borrowed chairs for workshops.
When her husband returned, Lejla told him about the dinner while they shelled peas. He asked what the dessert had been. "He didn't order any," she replied. Her husband took two pears from a bag and began peeling them. The evening continued with ordinary food and a conversation that required neither person to guess what was really on offer.