tiger?”
Connor smiled. He knew who the voice belonged to before he saw her. He elected to omit the run in with her brother from the night’s conversation. Turning in the direction of the voice, he wasn’t prepared for what met his eyes.
Laren was wearing a short, shoulder-baring black dress with a green sash tied behind her in a sleek bow. She held a small black purse in her hands that displayed a name brand Connor had never heard of. Her high-heeled shoes were the same color as the sash on her dress. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly. Her long brown hair fell perfectly down her shoulders and back. “You clean up nice, Mr. Moore.”
“So do you. Have you ever considered giving all this up and running away to be a model? I could always be persuaded to be your photographer.”
Even as Connor said this he knew it was a lame response, but he had nothing else. Laren had literally left him speechless.
She rolled her eyes and motioned to him to follow her. “Come on, smooth talker, dinner’s waiting.”
Arm in arm, they approached the restaurant entrance. Entering the foyer, the two were greeted by a thin, elderly gentleman wearing a black tuxedo. He looked up with a pleasant expression but as soon as he saw Laren, his face changed to an ear-to-ear smile. Showing far too many teeth, he approached the two. “Oh, Miss Abelardus, how good it is to see you again. And so elegant. You don’t look a day older than when I saw you last.” He had a subtle French accent that reminded Connor of the candlestick character in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast . Walking around the small wooden stand, he approached Laren and gave her a quick kiss on each cheek.
“Hello, Cyril, it’s nice to see you again as well. This is my friend, Connor.”
Cyril tuned his attention to him. “Oh, sir, it is a pleasure to meet you, and in such fine company.” Cyril had a way of making you feel good about yourself. Connor realized it was his job, but still, it was nice. The way he drew out syllables when he talked and was so animated helped make Cyril one of the best at what he did.
Cyril feigned a look of hurt and turned again to Laren. “Miss Abelardus, it has been too long. Why do you not come and see your friend Cyril more often?”
“I know, Cyril, I tried to come sooner, but you know my father. It’s very hard to have personal time with him as a boss.”
Cyril nodded understanding, “Well, you are here now, yes?” Cyril didn’t wait for a response and instead answered his own question. “Yes, and we shall celebrate. I will personally serve you tonight. Come to the best table in the house!” Cyril yelled the last part in excitement and started to march into the interior of the restaurant.
Connor and Laren smiled to each other as they followed Cyril through the maze of tables. It was the nicest place Connor had ever been, period. The lights weren’t bright, but not so dim as to be annoying. Laughter from other tables accompanied the lone violinist, who provided elegant background music.
Their table was located at the back. It was separate from the rest of the restaurant with curtains on either side of its alcove, for diners that wished for a more intimate meal. The table was covered with a spotless white cloth and there were more glasses, china, and silverware on the table than Connor had ever seen.
Cyril motioned them to sit, placed Laren’s napkin on her lap, and began to recite the menu by heart. They both decided on soups and salads. Connor chose the veal on Cyril’s recommendation, cooked medium well, and Laren opted for her favorite, a shank of lamb prepared rare. With orders memorized, Cyril disappeared.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think you’re spoiling me; surprise runs in the forest, dinners fit for a king, what’s next—a trip to Europe? A race around the Autobahn?”
“I just want to show you how much I appreciate you and—how much I like you.”
Connor was a bit taken back with her
Connor smiled. He knew who the voice belonged to before he saw her. He elected to omit the run in with her brother from the night’s conversation. Turning in the direction of the voice, he wasn’t prepared for what met his eyes.
Laren was wearing a short, shoulder-baring black dress with a green sash tied behind her in a sleek bow. She held a small black purse in her hands that displayed a name brand Connor had never heard of. Her high-heeled shoes were the same color as the sash on her dress. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly. Her long brown hair fell perfectly down her shoulders and back. “You clean up nice, Mr. Moore.”
“So do you. Have you ever considered giving all this up and running away to be a model? I could always be persuaded to be your photographer.”
Even as Connor said this he knew it was a lame response, but he had nothing else. Laren had literally left him speechless.
She rolled her eyes and motioned to him to follow her. “Come on, smooth talker, dinner’s waiting.”
Arm in arm, they approached the restaurant entrance. Entering the foyer, the two were greeted by a thin, elderly gentleman wearing a black tuxedo. He looked up with a pleasant expression but as soon as he saw Laren, his face changed to an ear-to-ear smile. Showing far too many teeth, he approached the two. “Oh, Miss Abelardus, how good it is to see you again. And so elegant. You don’t look a day older than when I saw you last.” He had a subtle French accent that reminded Connor of the candlestick character in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast . Walking around the small wooden stand, he approached Laren and gave her a quick kiss on each cheek.
“Hello, Cyril, it’s nice to see you again as well. This is my friend, Connor.”
Cyril tuned his attention to him. “Oh, sir, it is a pleasure to meet you, and in such fine company.” Cyril had a way of making you feel good about yourself. Connor realized it was his job, but still, it was nice. The way he drew out syllables when he talked and was so animated helped make Cyril one of the best at what he did.
Cyril feigned a look of hurt and turned again to Laren. “Miss Abelardus, it has been too long. Why do you not come and see your friend Cyril more often?”
“I know, Cyril, I tried to come sooner, but you know my father. It’s very hard to have personal time with him as a boss.”
Cyril nodded understanding, “Well, you are here now, yes?” Cyril didn’t wait for a response and instead answered his own question. “Yes, and we shall celebrate. I will personally serve you tonight. Come to the best table in the house!” Cyril yelled the last part in excitement and started to march into the interior of the restaurant.
Connor and Laren smiled to each other as they followed Cyril through the maze of tables. It was the nicest place Connor had ever been, period. The lights weren’t bright, but not so dim as to be annoying. Laughter from other tables accompanied the lone violinist, who provided elegant background music.
Their table was located at the back. It was separate from the rest of the restaurant with curtains on either side of its alcove, for diners that wished for a more intimate meal. The table was covered with a spotless white cloth and there were more glasses, china, and silverware on the table than Connor had ever seen.
Cyril motioned them to sit, placed Laren’s napkin on her lap, and began to recite the menu by heart. They both decided on soups and salads. Connor chose the veal on Cyril’s recommendation, cooked medium well, and Laren opted for her favorite, a shank of lamb prepared rare. With orders memorized, Cyril disappeared.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think you’re spoiling me; surprise runs in the forest, dinners fit for a king, what’s next—a trip to Europe? A race around the Autobahn?”
“I just want to show you how much I appreciate you and—how much I like you.”
Connor was a bit taken back with her
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