Lorne smiled at Catherine and nodded. After nosing his wine again, he shook the glass and stared at the rising bubbles. Good God! Where do I go from here? That was a big show stopper. What hells she must have gone through. Still going through them. Need a subject change. To what? He ran his gaze around the room and back to his glass. "Five years now — where's the time gone? Can you believe it's been five years since Lumière closed?"

"Can't be five." Catherine took another sip of wine, then slowly nodded. "But I guess it is. That was while we were on the media junket through Chile and Argentina, wasn't it? God, how shocked we were when we returned."

For most of its sixteen years of existence, Lumière had been the hot spot. It was Zagat's top restaurant in Vancouver, consistent winner as Best French Restaurant in Western Canada, always at the top of the wine list awards. Then it failed.

Catherine and Lorne were sitting at a four-top set for two in the focal window during a promotional pre-opening of La Luce, a new Italian-themed restaurant taking over the space of the recently bankrupt Roberto. Five years previously this prime West Broadway location had housed Lumière.

She examined the details of the room. "Little change. Roberto had continued with Lumière's decor, and now so is La Luce. Odd, isn't it? They were doing so well, then bang! Closed. Both of them, so sudden, so unexpected. Both big surprises."

"But now we should be much less surprised. So many wonderful places have closed since Lumière. Too many, and it's increasing." He paused to pop a stuzzichino into his mouth, followed by a sip of wine. "I'm thinking there's something behind this. There are just too many of them."

"What do you mean, too many?" She looked up from her glass.

"Think of the past five years, the places that have closed. Good places. Great places. Places like Nu and C — Harry was at the top, he had helped create Northwest Cuisine back in the eighties with his Raincity Grill, and he was a leader in the Eat Local movement. His three restaurants were innovative, creative and always pushing the boundaries of fine dining. They were bustling, buzzing, then poof."

"That octopus bacon at C was inspired. I see what you mean. His places went from hot to not — physically not — so quick."

Lorne again studied the fine mousse in his glass. "Others, like gli Conti, Bistro du Midi, Cosecha. Appears now Nuance is about to close their doors. Great cuisine and ambience, well-run and thriving. But other places, hot places, like —"

"Like Roberto here. The food and service were both far beyond just good, and the place was buzzing. Why did it spiral down so fast? It seemed to be doing so well."

"There's something even stranger, though. When I started analysing this a few days ago, I realised the places which had..." Lorne paused mid-sentence and watched Catherine's face light up as they heard Cynthia's familiar voice.

"I'm so pleased you've both come. But you, Catherine, we've not seen you in months. God, when was the last?" Cynthia did a quick inhale. "Such a shock with Nathan. How are you doing?"

"Yes. Fine, I guess. Coming to grips with it. The shock, then the emptiness and..." She turned her head to gaze into Lorne's eyes. Strength. Thank you. Turning back to Cynthia, she continued, "Sorry, I've been ignoring you. Your invitations. I've been terribly unsocial." She winced a smile. "But I've been playing hermit too long now; I need to get on with living."

"I'll be back a little later, after I've finished my welcoming rounds." Cynthia turned and strode across the room, raising her arms in a greeting.

"She's always bubbling with energy and enthusiasm. A great marketer." Lorne shook his glass and nosed it, then took a sip to savour as he watched servers arrive with two dishes for each of them.

"Granseola alla veneziana on your right and Farfalle con piselli, zafferano e capesante on your left. Buon appetito!"

Catherine waited for the servers to leave, then looked at Lorne. "You were saying before Cynthia, you realised..." She paused as the sommelier arrived.

"We think the 2013 Gavi Le Marne from Chiarlo will complement both dishes." She showed them the label, then poured.

"You realised?" Catherine asked Lorne as the sommelier left.

"The places that replaced them. Most took over leases, bought the improvements and the equipment out of receivership, likely for a pittance on the dollar. We've been to their opening promos, their media lunches and dinners."

"I see what you're saying. Nathan was talking of this before..." She paused and closed her eyes for a few moments, then shook her head and continued, "The face they present to us, and for the first few weeks to the public, is wonderful, but —"

"That's it, isn't it? The big but. A few weeks after the opening presentations, the service, the food, most everything else is down a few notches. The only things up are the prices and the five-star reviews. There's too much of this, too much of a pattern here. Someone is diddling. Someone is manipulating reviews."

"A creative way to expand their business — begin by stifling the competition. Target a restaurant, write a series of damning online reviews." She shook her head. "No, not damning, but reviews with subtle undertones of discontent to massage the gullible public. Then plant a few dark seeds among the concierges and watch as the restaurant flounders or fails."

Lorne looked around the room. "They'd have had minimal expenses here. The Art Nouveau decor is from Lumière. I'm sure the kitchen is also unchanged. No need to spend much."

Catherine scanned the room as she nodded. "Appears little more than refreshing the chair upholstery and touching up the paint."

"People are wary of buying failed restaurants; the stigma scares them. The receivers have to sell them for ridiculous prices, often for little more than the salvage value of the equipment."

"Remember Lumière's renovation? Ignore the kitchen equipment, the decor alone, cost over a quarter million to install, and it was all thrown in for free when the new owner assumed the lease."

Lorne twisted his lips and nodded. "Yeah, and if someone is manipulating, they wouldn't be concerned by the stigma of a failed place. They'd know damned well why it failed. They need only reverse their tactics and generate a steady stream of glowing reviews, pay-off the concierges and inbound tour operators and —"

"And manipulate us with presentations like this one. Get us writing praises. This crab dish is superb, the scallop one is sublime. I didn't realise Ortello could create like this."

"He can't." Lorne glanced at the plates, then back up to Catherine's eyes. "He's a good line cook; been around the big pubs and chains for years, but he's a technician, not an artist. When I read in the invitation that he's the executive chef, I almost told Cynthia I had a prior."

He shook his head and looked at the plates again. "But this isn't his cuisine; these dishes are artistry. There must be a plant, a ringer in the kitchen to do the promotional openings."

"So who's behind this place?" She took another bite of scallop.

"The owner wishes to remain in the background." He looked into her eyes and shrugged. "That was in the marketing blurb Cynthia sent with the invitation."

"There've been a few like that the past while. Another odd thing becoming common."

"Exactly. Part of the pattern I've been —"

"My God, this is superb. Have you tried the scallops?" She looked up from her plates and nodded toward the kitchen. "I'd love to know who's back there." 

"Let's not spoil this wonderful food." He took another bite of the crab sampler. "Mmph! This is so good. Let's do the heavy thinking later. Let's just be here now. Enjoy the evening." He tilted his head and smiled at Catherine. Enjoy sitting here with her. God, I've missed her. Wonder how she's holding up... Appears to be better now, looks more relaxed. Best I don't mention Nathan. My God, she's so gorgeous, she's so —

"You seem in a trance, Lorne." Catherine smiled. "I've always loved the look in your eyes when you're off on another..."

He heard her pause mid-sentence as Cynthia's voice neared. "Great to see you out again. Hope you're enjoying the cuisine, the presentation, the... God, listen to me. Babbling my marketing. I haven't seen you in so long, and all I can do is dump."

"Delicious. The cooking, the presentation — everything is flawless. I'm beyond impressed. It appears you've another promising place in your portfolio." Catherine paused and glanced at Lorne, then returned her eyes to Cynthia. "So who's behind this one?"

"I'm not sure. It's a company back east — Montreal. I've worked with them before." She scanned the room. "The fellow over there at the end of the bar, Pierre — Pierre Nadeau. He's their marketing person out here. I'm hoping for follow-on this time, not simply another opening promotion."

Catherine swept her eyes around the room. "It's obvious you're starting well. The people you've attracted, the reviewers, the writers, the movers and shakers."

"I have great lists." Cynthia smiled at each of them. "Hey, they must be great — you're both on all of them." She laid a hand on Catherine's arm and lightly patted. "It's so good to see you out again. I'm up to my ears at the moment with these promos and with the public opening. We should lunch next week. I'll text you." She strode across the room toward another table.

They turned back to their sampler dishes and their wine, finishing them a short while before the busboy arrived. The waiter soon followed. "Did you enjoy the shellfish?"

Catherine looked up and nodded. "Splendid. The saffron sauce with the scallops was sublime."

"Next, we have cinghiale con porcini e cannellini, and here," reaching back to the tray held by his assistant, "filetto di manzo con tartufo bianco. My notes say you both like your tenderloin rare — correct?" He saw their nods, placed the plates in front of them and departed to be immediately replaced by the sommelier.

"The 2010 Poggio Antico. We thought a youngish Brunello di Montalcino would do wonders for both dishes," she said as she showed the label, then poured generously into the two fresh Riedel stems. She nodded, turned, and continued her rounds.

"Superbly orchestrated service," Lorne said as he picked up his glass and offered a toast, "To your re-emergence. I've missed you."

"It's strange coming back, getting into the reviewing again. Stranger still doing it without Nathan." She gazed into Lorne's eyes and tilted her head. "Really strange. I miss him, and I don't. Confusing messages, confusing feelings."

"You were a great team." He swirled the glass, which he still held high toward her, brought it to his nose and breathed in the bouquet. "But let's get into these plates. The aromas of white truffles are fighting a battle with the porcini and braised boar, and the Brunello is screaming me too."