handshake.
“What brings you here?” the country music legend asked.
“I got married,” Mick announced with a broad grin and held up his bride’s left hand, clasped in his right.
The singer’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with speculation. “She’s lovely, congratulations. Not in your usual style.”
“No, she’s way too good for me. I had to snag her before she realized what a bad bet I am,” Mick joked.
“Well, again, congrats. I’ll be sure to send a housewarming gift.”
“That’s kind of you, but no puppies, please.”
“Would I do that?” the singer asked with feigned innocence.
“Yes, you would and did,” Mick laughed. “See you in September.”
“What’s in September?” Sonia asked.
“The band’s got a three week gig out here, at Caesar’s no less. Then we’re on tour for six months and it’ll be back to Vegas for another three-week stint.”
“Wow, that’s a lot.”
“The tour is actually on the short side. Iron Falcon isn’t big enough yet to merit an extended gig like Rod Stewart or Celine Dion. We’ll get there.”
Sonia hoped not, but did not say so. Thus far, she found Las Vegas overwhelming and—dare she admit it—tawdry. They took their seats and a waiter soon arrived to take their drink orders. Mick ordered champagne.
“We’re celebrating,” he explained to Sonia as he drew her left hand across the small table and kissed her knuckles. She could find no words to argue when the tip of his tongue flicked over her skin.
The waiter arrived with menus and recited the day’s specials.
“Why don’t you order for us?” Mick suggested.
Excited by the opportunity to sample the celebrity chef’s reputedly exquisite cuisine, Sonia quickly scanned the menu and asked the waiter to repeat the specials. Then she placed their order. The waiter looked a little surprised, but nodded and retreated to relay the order to the kitchen. The chef himself left the kitchen to inquire as to the special request on the entree.
Without stammering, Sonia quickly explained that she meant no insult to the chef, but that the lighter sauce she requested would better complement the champagne they were drinking. The chef paused a moment to consider her reason, then nodded his acceptance.
“Very perceptive of you, miss,” Oliver Augustin said. “Apparently, you have an educated palate.”
She smiled faintly and replied, “I’m a chef, too.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, I just graduated from the CIA,” she replied with justifiable pride.
“And you are here seeking employment?”
“What? Oh, I wouldn’t suggest changes to your menu and then ask for a job.” Sonia was genuinely horrified by the very idea.
“Where are you working, then?”
“Er, I’m not right now,” she admitted sheepishly. “My internship finished a couple weeks ago and I’ll be on the job hunt come July.”
“We’re on our honeymoon,” Mick interjected, raising her left hand so that the wedding band sparkled under the discreetly dim lights.
“Ah, young love,” Joseph said with a curt nod and a faint grin. “Come back tomorrow at eleven o’clock in the morning. I want to see what you can do in the kitchen.”
“I … er …”
“We’ll be here,” Mick said firmly. Turning his attention to Sonia, he commented, “I can’t let you pass up this incredible opportunity, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” Sonia said to them both. It was all she could say.
The chef retreated back to his kitchen while wait staff stared in amazement after him. Sonia took a deep breath and felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat. She hurriedly took a sip of champagne to swallow it back down.
Soon their appetizers arrived, followed by their entrees. They shared a light dessert. Mick kept the conversation easy, lulling his bride into a sense of comfort with him. It wouldn’t do to spook her.
About ten minutes before they were ready to return to the hotel, he called their chauffeur.
“What brings you here?” the country music legend asked.
“I got married,” Mick announced with a broad grin and held up his bride’s left hand, clasped in his right.
The singer’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with speculation. “She’s lovely, congratulations. Not in your usual style.”
“No, she’s way too good for me. I had to snag her before she realized what a bad bet I am,” Mick joked.
“Well, again, congrats. I’ll be sure to send a housewarming gift.”
“That’s kind of you, but no puppies, please.”
“Would I do that?” the singer asked with feigned innocence.
“Yes, you would and did,” Mick laughed. “See you in September.”
“What’s in September?” Sonia asked.
“The band’s got a three week gig out here, at Caesar’s no less. Then we’re on tour for six months and it’ll be back to Vegas for another three-week stint.”
“Wow, that’s a lot.”
“The tour is actually on the short side. Iron Falcon isn’t big enough yet to merit an extended gig like Rod Stewart or Celine Dion. We’ll get there.”
Sonia hoped not, but did not say so. Thus far, she found Las Vegas overwhelming and—dare she admit it—tawdry. They took their seats and a waiter soon arrived to take their drink orders. Mick ordered champagne.
“We’re celebrating,” he explained to Sonia as he drew her left hand across the small table and kissed her knuckles. She could find no words to argue when the tip of his tongue flicked over her skin.
The waiter arrived with menus and recited the day’s specials.
“Why don’t you order for us?” Mick suggested.
Excited by the opportunity to sample the celebrity chef’s reputedly exquisite cuisine, Sonia quickly scanned the menu and asked the waiter to repeat the specials. Then she placed their order. The waiter looked a little surprised, but nodded and retreated to relay the order to the kitchen. The chef himself left the kitchen to inquire as to the special request on the entree.
Without stammering, Sonia quickly explained that she meant no insult to the chef, but that the lighter sauce she requested would better complement the champagne they were drinking. The chef paused a moment to consider her reason, then nodded his acceptance.
“Very perceptive of you, miss,” Oliver Augustin said. “Apparently, you have an educated palate.”
She smiled faintly and replied, “I’m a chef, too.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, I just graduated from the CIA,” she replied with justifiable pride.
“And you are here seeking employment?”
“What? Oh, I wouldn’t suggest changes to your menu and then ask for a job.” Sonia was genuinely horrified by the very idea.
“Where are you working, then?”
“Er, I’m not right now,” she admitted sheepishly. “My internship finished a couple weeks ago and I’ll be on the job hunt come July.”
“We’re on our honeymoon,” Mick interjected, raising her left hand so that the wedding band sparkled under the discreetly dim lights.
“Ah, young love,” Joseph said with a curt nod and a faint grin. “Come back tomorrow at eleven o’clock in the morning. I want to see what you can do in the kitchen.”
“I … er …”
“We’ll be here,” Mick said firmly. Turning his attention to Sonia, he commented, “I can’t let you pass up this incredible opportunity, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” Sonia said to them both. It was all she could say.
The chef retreated back to his kitchen while wait staff stared in amazement after him. Sonia took a deep breath and felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat. She hurriedly took a sip of champagne to swallow it back down.
Soon their appetizers arrived, followed by their entrees. They shared a light dessert. Mick kept the conversation easy, lulling his bride into a sense of comfort with him. It wouldn’t do to spook her.
About ten minutes before they were ready to return to the hotel, he called their chauffeur.
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