[There is such an irony in the fact that the Devil Frank knows is truly the better one. Telling them apart is easier after speaking. Then again Mike usually goes out of his way to differentiate. He's got his own burner phone. They have this steady stream of contact. This is all going somewhere. Fast.

Which is why he hasn't flinched from indulging in the time they share alone. Feelings like this were gunned down in a park or so he thought. He's going to roll with it.]

After dinner. You'll spoil your appetite.

[He doesn't mind that they sit side by side. Makes it a bit better that way.]

It's called ambiance, you swine.

[A waiter brings glasses of water and garlic bread with balsamic and oil. The menus are placed down.]

Well, shit. I didn't think about that but uh you got anything in mind? Standard Italian.