Her heart momentarily forgot to beat. Damn, if he wouldn’t have used her name – but he did. Feigning strength, she pressed forward. “I wouldn’t do that, Tony.” She could use his name too. “That would be rude, to cancel something at the last minute.”
“I must admit, I’m surprised to receive your call... on my private cell.”
“I presume you are. I wanted to contact you about tonight.”
“Yes?”
“You see, I’ve been living in this area for a while. There’s a lovely French restaurant I believe you’ll enjoy.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, she continued, “I realize you made reservations, but so have I. I’d be glad to meet you at Bon Vivant on Bryant, at 7.”
“Well, there is a car coming to pick you up...”
She interrupted, “I appreciate that. It’s very kind of you; however, I have my own car and am more than willing to drive.” She heard his soft chuckle.
“If that is what you prefer.”
She exhaled, “I do.”
“Very well, I must return to this table of directors and web conference. Until tonight.”
“Yes, good-bye.”
Her next decision involved attire. The outfit he sent was exquisite. She tried it on and expectantly, everything fit perfectly. However, the day before their reunion, she returned it to Neiman Marcus, having the money returned to the purchasing credit card. Claire planned on presenting the receipt to Tony during their meal.
She decided to wear the white dress and Dior sandals she’d worn during her discussion with Phillip Roach, in San Antonio. When considering hairstyle, she purposely styled it in a way she knew her ex-husband liked. She also figured this outing would make at least one or two publications and most likely be plastered all over the internet before she settled down for bed. Claire Rawlings Nichols intended to look the part.
Before she walked to the parking garage, Claire exited the elevator on the ground level. It was 6 PM, and the restaurant was only minutes away. She was ready to go. Her nerves were stretched to an inflexible tautness which didn’t allow her to linger in the condo any longer. Besides, Amber was out of town on business, and Claire wasn’t ready to face Harry as he returned from SiJo. She’d feel better talking to him after the dinner. Until then, she couldn’t stand to see that look in his soft blue eyes. For some reason, the way they looked at her made her feel like she was cheating, which was ridiculous. Especially since she and Harry didn’t have anything official on which she could cheat. Their mutual admiration hadn’t yet progressed to sex. Although when Claire recalled their encounters, she felt like a school girl, warm and aroused, anticipating the next move.
Exiting the front doors of the condominium, Claire walked boldly to Phillip Roach’s inconspicuous grey sedan. She watched him shake his head, as she knocked on his window. Suspiciously, he lowered the pane. “Yes, Ms. Nichols? I see you’re wearing your trapping clothes.”
Claire smiled, “I’m not sure if your employer informed you, but we’re meeting for dinner this evening. We’ll be dining at Bon Vivant on Bryant.” She handed him an envelope; slowly he accepted. “The restaurant is often crowded, and I didn’t want you to miss the fun. There’s a small shadowed table reserved in your name, please accept this gift certificate and enjoy your meal on me.” With her eyes twinkling, she turned and walked toward her building. Claire felt Phillip’s eyes upon her, not an unfamiliar feeling.
What happened in the past that was painful
has a great deal to do with what we are today.
--William Glasser Chapter 16
Arriving thirty-five minutes early, Claire noticed the parking lot wasn’t as busy as normal. She’d only eaten at Bon Vivant once, but found the service exceptional and the food delicious. It was a popular and highly acclaimed destination in Silicon Valley. Her last visit was a weekend, and it had been packed with patrons. Claire reassured herself, this was a week night; many people were still at work.
The maître d' politely greeted her as she entered alone, “Good evening Mademoiselle, do you have reservations?”
Claire looked around the nearly empty restaurant. “Oui, deux pour Nichols.” (Yes, two for Nichols)
“Oui, Mademoiselle. Your table is not yet ready. Perhaps you would like to wait for your companion in our lounge. I will personally inform you when your table is ready.”
“Thank you, I left specific instructions for a conspicuous table, near the center of the main dining room.”
“Oui, we will do everything we can to accommodate you and your companion. The lounge is to the right.”
“Merci.” Thanking the maître d’, she followed the piano music and made her way to the posh lounge. Years before, when Claire accompanied Tony to a French restaurant, she was at a complete loss as he spoke to the wait staff. While in France, she began to pick-up a few words. However, it was while in prison, she had time to study both French and Italian. She wouldn’t be considered fluent in either; however, she could understand what was said around her. Undoubtedly, her speech held a very American accent.
The lounge was beautifully contemporary, mostly white with colored lights, creating an awe-inspiring ambience. She noticed a few other couples at nearby tables. Claire checked her watch, as the other couples were escorted from the lounge. At two minutes before seven, she found herself sitting alone, in the great expanse of the lounge. Maintaining her mask of calm she watched as the archway filled with the man from her past.
“I must admit, I’m surprised to receive your call... on my private cell.”
“I presume you are. I wanted to contact you about tonight.”
“Yes?”
“You see, I’ve been living in this area for a while. There’s a lovely French restaurant I believe you’ll enjoy.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, she continued, “I realize you made reservations, but so have I. I’d be glad to meet you at Bon Vivant on Bryant, at 7.”
“Well, there is a car coming to pick you up...”
She interrupted, “I appreciate that. It’s very kind of you; however, I have my own car and am more than willing to drive.” She heard his soft chuckle.
“If that is what you prefer.”
She exhaled, “I do.”
“Very well, I must return to this table of directors and web conference. Until tonight.”
“Yes, good-bye.”
Her next decision involved attire. The outfit he sent was exquisite. She tried it on and expectantly, everything fit perfectly. However, the day before their reunion, she returned it to Neiman Marcus, having the money returned to the purchasing credit card. Claire planned on presenting the receipt to Tony during their meal.
She decided to wear the white dress and Dior sandals she’d worn during her discussion with Phillip Roach, in San Antonio. When considering hairstyle, she purposely styled it in a way she knew her ex-husband liked. She also figured this outing would make at least one or two publications and most likely be plastered all over the internet before she settled down for bed. Claire Rawlings Nichols intended to look the part.
Before she walked to the parking garage, Claire exited the elevator on the ground level. It was 6 PM, and the restaurant was only minutes away. She was ready to go. Her nerves were stretched to an inflexible tautness which didn’t allow her to linger in the condo any longer. Besides, Amber was out of town on business, and Claire wasn’t ready to face Harry as he returned from SiJo. She’d feel better talking to him after the dinner. Until then, she couldn’t stand to see that look in his soft blue eyes. For some reason, the way they looked at her made her feel like she was cheating, which was ridiculous. Especially since she and Harry didn’t have anything official on which she could cheat. Their mutual admiration hadn’t yet progressed to sex. Although when Claire recalled their encounters, she felt like a school girl, warm and aroused, anticipating the next move.
Exiting the front doors of the condominium, Claire walked boldly to Phillip Roach’s inconspicuous grey sedan. She watched him shake his head, as she knocked on his window. Suspiciously, he lowered the pane. “Yes, Ms. Nichols? I see you’re wearing your trapping clothes.”
Claire smiled, “I’m not sure if your employer informed you, but we’re meeting for dinner this evening. We’ll be dining at Bon Vivant on Bryant.” She handed him an envelope; slowly he accepted. “The restaurant is often crowded, and I didn’t want you to miss the fun. There’s a small shadowed table reserved in your name, please accept this gift certificate and enjoy your meal on me.” With her eyes twinkling, she turned and walked toward her building. Claire felt Phillip’s eyes upon her, not an unfamiliar feeling.
What happened in the past that was painful
has a great deal to do with what we are today.
--William Glasser Chapter 16
Arriving thirty-five minutes early, Claire noticed the parking lot wasn’t as busy as normal. She’d only eaten at Bon Vivant once, but found the service exceptional and the food delicious. It was a popular and highly acclaimed destination in Silicon Valley. Her last visit was a weekend, and it had been packed with patrons. Claire reassured herself, this was a week night; many people were still at work.
The maître d' politely greeted her as she entered alone, “Good evening Mademoiselle, do you have reservations?”
Claire looked around the nearly empty restaurant. “Oui, deux pour Nichols.” (Yes, two for Nichols)
“Oui, Mademoiselle. Your table is not yet ready. Perhaps you would like to wait for your companion in our lounge. I will personally inform you when your table is ready.”
“Thank you, I left specific instructions for a conspicuous table, near the center of the main dining room.”
“Oui, we will do everything we can to accommodate you and your companion. The lounge is to the right.”
“Merci.” Thanking the maître d’, she followed the piano music and made her way to the posh lounge. Years before, when Claire accompanied Tony to a French restaurant, she was at a complete loss as he spoke to the wait staff. While in France, she began to pick-up a few words. However, it was while in prison, she had time to study both French and Italian. She wouldn’t be considered fluent in either; however, she could understand what was said around her. Undoubtedly, her speech held a very American accent.
The lounge was beautifully contemporary, mostly white with colored lights, creating an awe-inspiring ambience. She noticed a few other couples at nearby tables. Claire checked her watch, as the other couples were escorted from the lounge. At two minutes before seven, she found herself sitting alone, in the great expanse of the lounge. Maintaining her mask of calm she watched as the archway filled with the man from her past.
