Part 7
It seemed to Ashlyn that every male on the restaurant's staff had made some kind of excuse to be able to walk near their table and stare in their direction. She was beginning to wonder if they were daring one another to see who could get closest without rousing the dangerous beast seated next to her. John was aware of each and every person who came within twenty feet of their table and also knew it was because they were trying to sneak a peek at the very young beauty he was with.
He finally had enough when bold young man grabbed the silver ewer of water and started to approach them, holding the excuse to do so in his hands. However, none of them had actually taken a drink as yet, so it was an obvious ploy that only served to irritate the big man.
"I'll be right back," he stated in a low growl. As he shifted to rise, he let one hand lightly caress the girl's long hair with a reassuring smile. He gained his feet and straightened up to his full height, stepping in front of the advancing busboy that had to look way up to make eye contact. The poor kid only had a moment to register he'd been not only busted but was possibly about to lose his life when John latched onto his shoulder, removed the pitcher from his hands to set on the empty table next to them, pivoted him around, and directed him to a door marked 'employees only'.
Four people looked up as they entered, including a woman in her mid-fifties who was seated at a desk looking fearful and a man a little older dressed in a chef's coat who stood behind her. The other two men were wearing long coats that obviously were meant to hide the guns they were toting and failing miserably.
John rolled his eyes, 'Seriously? I try to go out for a nice dinner with my daughter and end up in the middle of a robbery? Only me.'
One of the gunmen stepped towards the two newcomers aggressively, "This is a private conversation in an employees only room, since you can't read the big sign on the door. You need to get right back out before you find yourself in more trouble than you can handle, buddy."
Turning the boy he still had a grip on, he ordered in a very dark voice, "Go stand in that corner," he pointed, "and don't move. Understand?" When the terrified kid nodded like a bobble-head doll, he gave him a light push in the direction he wanted him to go and turned to look daggers at the bad guys, "Bring it on."
The second man, thinking he might have an advantage, rushed John with a wild swing that he easily ducked under and brought his own elbow up into the man's jaw. The guy hadn't even hit the ground, out cold, before the military man removed the gun from the first one's hand and knocked him flying into the wall, also unconscious. Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, John silently wiped his prints off the gun before tossing it to the floor beside the person he'd taken it from.
"Call the police, tell them these two guys tried to rob you, got into a fight over the money, and knocked each other out. End of story."
The woman rose on shaky legs and whispered, "I can't thank you enough for what you did. If you hadn't come in when you did, they would have robbed us blind; how did you know?"
He shook his head, "I didn't." Turning back to the now petrified busboy he beckoned him with a crook of a finger, "You. Here. Now."
The teen was reduced to a blubbering mess as he huddled in the corner, frantically shaking his head and babbling apologies. John just sighed in annoyance.
"I'm Michael Lebeau, sir, the chef and co-owner with my wife, Elaine," the older man nodded to the lady with him. "She's right, there's nothing we can do to thank you for coming to our rescue, but what's wrong with Daniel there and what brought you in here to begin with?"
Facing the couple the big man explained, "I came here tonight with my family to have a nice quiet dinner out and in less than ten minutes after being seated, we suddenly had a parade of busboys and waiters past our table. We purposely wanted a table in the corner so we wouldn't be disturbed by others and they had no reason to be there." Burning eyes flashed back to Daniel, "I won't have the male contingent of your staff staring at my fifteen year old daughter and making her uncomfortable."
"My goodness! I am so sorry for that, sir, I don't know what came over our staff but you can be sure that we will not only make sure that you're not disturbed during your meal, but your dinner will be free of charge for everything you've done this evening," Elaine Lebeau assured quickly.
"That won't be necessary," John stated, "I only want to enjoy a meal with my family in peace."
"And you shall receive it," the chef promised. "I myself will prepare your food and serve your table. It's the very least we can do for your help."
John shrugged, "If it makes you happy, just as long as the others stay away, but we want Renee to stay as our server, too. She's been very good to us since we came in."
"Certainly," Michael agreed before excusing himself to hurry to the kitchen so he could take over the meal preparation.
Ashlyn and Harold were talking softy about the machine when the girl spotted her father returning, with an escort. When she straightened abruptly, the billionaire turned his body to face that direction and raised an eye brow in question before maneuvering around so he could stand up to greet the lady.
"Elaine Lebeau, owner of Le Palais Jardin, this is my brother-in-law Harold Wren, and my daughter Ashlyn," John introduced.
"Madame Lebeau, a pleasure to meet you," Finch shook her hand politely while casting curious glances at his associate who was in the process of joining the teenager in the booth.
"The pleasure is mine, I assure you, sir. Your brother-in-law was kind enough to help my husband and I out with a small problem in the office a moment ago and I wanted to take the opportunity to meet his family. Please, order anything you wish from the menu, even to take home for later, and it's yours with our thanks." She studied the girl seated beside their savior, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the candles that lit the booth and smiled, "I can see why you've caused such a stir among my staff and I apologize if they've made you uncomfortable, child. It won't happen again."
Ashlyn looked to her father in confusion and he just nodded to the woman, "Thank you."
Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, Elaine turned to see Renee approaching with a tray of drinks, "I will leave you in Renee's capable hands and if you need anything, please have her come get one of us." She then hurried to the door to meet the police officers who were just coming through them.
The middle aged woman began placing their drinks before each person, "Here you are; is there anything else I can get for you while we wait for your appetizers?"
John shook his head while his friend reseated himself, "We're fine for now, thank you." She nodded and slipped away.
"So, John, what 'small problem' did you vanquish for the owners of the restaurant that resulted in our meal being taken care of?" Harold inquired.
He stretched one arm out over the back of the booth behind the teenager as he smiled down at her reassuringly, "A couple of idiots came in trying to rob the place and I pointed out their stupidity for them."
"Dare I ask with what?"
He met his partner's gaze and shrugged negligibly, "My elbow and the butt of one of their guns." He could feel the girl next to him stirring slightly and was shocked when she gradually eased into his side, head coming to rest lightly against his shoulder as she looked up at him.
"Did they hurt you?" she whispered.
The arm behind her dropped slowly to wrap around her slender form as he lowered his head to press a tender kiss to her forehead, "Of course not, sweetheart. Those two buffoons didn't know what hit them."
She nodded and stayed nestled up to him, much to his delighted pleasure, until their appetizers arrived; and even then she stayed fairly close. Michael the chef arrived at their table with Renee and, after she handed out small plates, he served each person himself: fresh fried calamari, steamed mussels, barbequed shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, crab stuffed artichoke hearts, and steak tartar.
Having eaten such foods regularly over the years, Finch knew what to expect and enjoyed everything placed before him. His tablemates had slightly different view points, however. Ashlyn loved the calamari that melted in her mouth, the stuffed mushrooms, and shrimp, but she took only a bit of the steak tartar, mussels, and artichokes before discretely nudging them to the side of her plate. John wasted no time in spearing them from hers to add to his but he also replaced what he took with his own helping of calamari and shrimp.
Almost as soon as they had finished the appetizers, Michael and Renee appeared again; she whisked their empties away while he handed out Ashlyn's fruit and yogurt, Harold's greens, and John's soup. When the girl's curiosity and keen sense of smell had her sniffing a bit in the direction of the soup, her father lifted a spoonful, blew a bit to cool it, and offered it to her to taste. Unsure at first, because something like this was certainly never allowed at the table growing up, she gradually edged closer and took a sip. When her eyes brightened at the deliciousness, he made a mental note to order a large bowl to take home with them.
When the chef appeared once more, this time with the main courses almost overflowing the plates where he'd given them far more than they would normally have received, Harold requested some smaller plates so they could share a bit of each meal with one another. They were quickly provided and Michael whipped out a sharp knife to carve a couple of small pieces of lamb from Finch's plate to set out before using a spoon to scoop out a couple of Ashlyn's scallops for each small plate. He then demonstrated his expertise with lobster by breaking John's whole one down in record time and placing portions aside for the others. Small bits of side items were put on the plates and then handed out so the group to try a little of everything.
The teenager ate far more than she should have, even knowing she'd regret it later, but it was all so delicious she just couldn't resist. The former military man also crammed in a couple of more bites than normal before regretfully asking if they could have some boxes to take extras home in. He also asked Renee if she would add a large order for the soup so they could eat it the next day for lunch.
When she returned with boxes for them to pack things up in, she also set what looked like a covered bucket on the table and announced it was their soup. Harold stared at it for a moment before asking, "And will you be feeding the rest of the block at lunch tomorrow with that, John?"
"No, Harold, we expect you to join us after our appointment so we can all eat ourselves into happy oblivion."
Renee grinned at the two men as she set a large bag on the table as well, "Chef Michael decided to send you home with several desserts to enjoy as well. There's chocolate bread pudding with chocolate sauce and fresh berries. Vanilla bean Crème Brûlèe, also with fresh berries and homemade whipped cream. And a banana cream pie with caramel sauce, whipped cream and chocolate shavings."
Ice green eyes wide at the dessert list, Ashlyn whispered, "Oh, I'm going to be so sick."
Her father chuckled at her, "You and me both, sweetheart; but we'll enjoy it while we can." He looked across the table, "Now you definitely will have to join us tomorrow, Harold, because I'm going to hold the desserts hostage until you do."
"Very well, John, I certainly cannot allow you to deprive your only child of sugary sustenance so I will make an appearance at your place tomorrow afternoon."
"Excellent, Harold, I knew you'd see it my way," John teased.
The other man snorted at him while Ashlyn studied the bags and murmured, "Death by sugar."
A strong arm wrapped lightly around her again, "Yeah, but what a way to go."