Behind His Eyes: Truth
Page 15
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“No. I’d like to wait elsewhere until the restaurant is empty.”
“Very well, I was told to invite you to the back offices. You’re welcome to bring your drink, and we can get you another if you’d like…”
He followed the woman through a doorway and down a hall. After a few minutes, Tony made his way back down the corridor and peered through the small window in the door to the lounge. Time stood still as his peripheral vision muted; through the frosted glass he saw her.
His ex-wife, his Claire, sat alone near the middle of the lounge. The back of her dress dipped low, revealing her tanned skin. Although he couldn’t hear, she appeared radiant as she spoke confidently to a waiter. Until her call, earlier in the day, Tony had wondered if she’d truly come—if she’d follow his instructions. Seeing her, with her hair piled high and ringlets grazing her long, proud neck, he swelled with pride. She was so strong, so proud, and still so obedient.
Tony was so enthralled in the vision that it took some time before he realized she wasn’t wearing the dress he’d sent. His buyer had sent him pictures. She wasn’t wearing any of the outfit. Pushing away his irritation, he softly chuckled. Damn, she was the challenge he needed in his life.
Just before 7:00 PM, Tony took a back hall to the front of the restaurant. Squaring his shoulders, he entered the lounge. The blue lighting that accentuated the chic ambience and the piano music both faded as he focused on the only remaining customer. If there had been others, he wouldn’t have noticed. It was only Claire. As Tony approached, he watched her expression. Though she wore a mask of calm, in her emerald eyes he saw the fire he’d so desperately craved. With each step, he relished the warmth, like a frozen man in the wilderness coming upon lifesaving flames. Her heat radiated throughout the empty room pulling him closer. When he stood before her, her neck straightened. With a nod he said, “Good evening, Claire.”
“Good evening, Tony. Won’t you please have a seat?”
Refusing to lose sight of her eyes, he maintained their gaze and replied, “Thank you.”
As he sat opposite her, he tried to read her thoughts. Before he could evaluate, she said, “It was nice of you to accommodate my change in plans.” Gesturing toward a bottle of wine, she continued, “I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine.”
Lifting the bottle, he assessed the label. “Excellent choice.”
Before their conversation could continue, a waiter appeared at their side. “Monsieur and Mademoiselle, your table is not yet ready. May I open your wine?”
Tony knew that there was one remaining couple in the dining room. As he was about to reply, Claire spoke, “Oui, merci.” Her French was Americanized, but French nonetheless.
Once the waiter departed, Tony said, “My, Claire, you continue to amaze me. I see you’re trying to show me the new, independent Claire Nichols.” When she didn’t speak, he continued, “You don’t need to work so hard. I’ve been observing you from afar and am already impressed.”
“Tony, my goal isn’t to impress. My goal is to show that I don’t need your observation. I’m doing quite well on my own.”
“I believe you have surpassed my expectations, once again.”
“And for the record, I was independent before our encounter.”
“Yes,” he paused. “I can see how you would think that.” He sipped his wine. “Now tell me, what was the point with the change in venue?”
“There was no point. I’ve eaten here before, and I thought you’d enjoy the cuisine.”
“I see.” He continued to sip the wine. “That’s good. I was afraid you were trying to manipulate our visibility—”
Before he could continue, the maître d’ approached their table. “Excusez-moi, but your table, it is ready.”
“Merci,” Tony replied as he stood. While Claire gathered her handbag, Tony politely helped her with her chair.
As they walked through the empty lounge, Tony nodded to the pianist and reached out to direct Claire’s movement. His fingers contacted the warmth of her exposed back, and he fought the urge to explore below the draping material. Oh, it wouldn’t be an uncharted expedition. He knew every inch of her body, but it had been too long. Leaning down, placing his lips near her ear, he inhaled her scent. With every ounce of restraint, he kept his lips from contacting her skin. Instead, he said, “I’m glad visibility wasn’t your goal for this evening. I would hate to disappoint you.”
As they stepped from the lounge into the dining area, Claire’s neck stiffened and she gasped. Meeting him eye to eye, she boldly asked, “What have you done?”
He smirked, “I wanted to spend time with you, without the diversion of others.”
“Where are the other people?”
“I believe they accepted an unbelievable offer. In essence, I rented the entire restaurant. After all, you said it was delicious, and I wanted to enjoy the food and your company.”
“You bought out the entire place?”
He suddenly feared she’d run. Keeping a calm façade, he answered, “Yes, Claire. Shall we sit? I believe you requested this central table.”
Overwhelmed with relief as she settled upon the cushioned seat, he gently pushed her chair under the table. Before they could resume their conversation, the waiter was present, delivering their wine and glasses to their new location. It may only be one person, but they both knew the importance of appearances. Once he was gone, Tony lifted his glass of wine and proposed a toast. “To you, the only person in this world who can keep me on my toes.”
“Very well, I was told to invite you to the back offices. You’re welcome to bring your drink, and we can get you another if you’d like…”
He followed the woman through a doorway and down a hall. After a few minutes, Tony made his way back down the corridor and peered through the small window in the door to the lounge. Time stood still as his peripheral vision muted; through the frosted glass he saw her.
His ex-wife, his Claire, sat alone near the middle of the lounge. The back of her dress dipped low, revealing her tanned skin. Although he couldn’t hear, she appeared radiant as she spoke confidently to a waiter. Until her call, earlier in the day, Tony had wondered if she’d truly come—if she’d follow his instructions. Seeing her, with her hair piled high and ringlets grazing her long, proud neck, he swelled with pride. She was so strong, so proud, and still so obedient.
Tony was so enthralled in the vision that it took some time before he realized she wasn’t wearing the dress he’d sent. His buyer had sent him pictures. She wasn’t wearing any of the outfit. Pushing away his irritation, he softly chuckled. Damn, she was the challenge he needed in his life.
Just before 7:00 PM, Tony took a back hall to the front of the restaurant. Squaring his shoulders, he entered the lounge. The blue lighting that accentuated the chic ambience and the piano music both faded as he focused on the only remaining customer. If there had been others, he wouldn’t have noticed. It was only Claire. As Tony approached, he watched her expression. Though she wore a mask of calm, in her emerald eyes he saw the fire he’d so desperately craved. With each step, he relished the warmth, like a frozen man in the wilderness coming upon lifesaving flames. Her heat radiated throughout the empty room pulling him closer. When he stood before her, her neck straightened. With a nod he said, “Good evening, Claire.”
“Good evening, Tony. Won’t you please have a seat?”
Refusing to lose sight of her eyes, he maintained their gaze and replied, “Thank you.”
As he sat opposite her, he tried to read her thoughts. Before he could evaluate, she said, “It was nice of you to accommodate my change in plans.” Gesturing toward a bottle of wine, she continued, “I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine.”
Lifting the bottle, he assessed the label. “Excellent choice.”
Before their conversation could continue, a waiter appeared at their side. “Monsieur and Mademoiselle, your table is not yet ready. May I open your wine?”
Tony knew that there was one remaining couple in the dining room. As he was about to reply, Claire spoke, “Oui, merci.” Her French was Americanized, but French nonetheless.
Once the waiter departed, Tony said, “My, Claire, you continue to amaze me. I see you’re trying to show me the new, independent Claire Nichols.” When she didn’t speak, he continued, “You don’t need to work so hard. I’ve been observing you from afar and am already impressed.”
“Tony, my goal isn’t to impress. My goal is to show that I don’t need your observation. I’m doing quite well on my own.”
“I believe you have surpassed my expectations, once again.”
“And for the record, I was independent before our encounter.”
“Yes,” he paused. “I can see how you would think that.” He sipped his wine. “Now tell me, what was the point with the change in venue?”
“There was no point. I’ve eaten here before, and I thought you’d enjoy the cuisine.”
“I see.” He continued to sip the wine. “That’s good. I was afraid you were trying to manipulate our visibility—”
Before he could continue, the maître d’ approached their table. “Excusez-moi, but your table, it is ready.”
“Merci,” Tony replied as he stood. While Claire gathered her handbag, Tony politely helped her with her chair.
As they walked through the empty lounge, Tony nodded to the pianist and reached out to direct Claire’s movement. His fingers contacted the warmth of her exposed back, and he fought the urge to explore below the draping material. Oh, it wouldn’t be an uncharted expedition. He knew every inch of her body, but it had been too long. Leaning down, placing his lips near her ear, he inhaled her scent. With every ounce of restraint, he kept his lips from contacting her skin. Instead, he said, “I’m glad visibility wasn’t your goal for this evening. I would hate to disappoint you.”
As they stepped from the lounge into the dining area, Claire’s neck stiffened and she gasped. Meeting him eye to eye, she boldly asked, “What have you done?”
He smirked, “I wanted to spend time with you, without the diversion of others.”
“Where are the other people?”
“I believe they accepted an unbelievable offer. In essence, I rented the entire restaurant. After all, you said it was delicious, and I wanted to enjoy the food and your company.”
“You bought out the entire place?”
He suddenly feared she’d run. Keeping a calm façade, he answered, “Yes, Claire. Shall we sit? I believe you requested this central table.”
Overwhelmed with relief as she settled upon the cushioned seat, he gently pushed her chair under the table. Before they could resume their conversation, the waiter was present, delivering their wine and glasses to their new location. It may only be one person, but they both knew the importance of appearances. Once he was gone, Tony lifted his glass of wine and proposed a toast. “To you, the only person in this world who can keep me on my toes.”
