"Two B's and an A!" Holly exulted. It was the last day of the spring term, and she and Henry had just received their final grades.
"That's great!" said Henry. "I got two A's and a B. I think we ought to celebrate. How about if I take you to the nicest restaurant in town?"
Holly gasped. "Fiola Mare?"
"Do you know of a nicer one?"
"Well, no, but I am, like, seriously under dressed."
"Dinnertime isn't for a few more hours. You have plenty of time to change."
"But I don't even own anything anywhere near nice enough to wear to that restaurant!"
"What's wrong with that pink blouse you have with the lace around the collar?"
"You really think that's nice enough?"
"I think it's really pretty."
She frowned. "Maybe with my black slacks..."
Henry grinned. "You'd be gorgeous!"
He took more care getting ready for the date than he ever had before. Something told him that tonight would be special. He chose his nicest black slacks and grey polo shirt, and was careful to apply just the right amount of cologne. Right before leaving the house, he squirted cinnamon-flavored breath spray into his mouth. He put his hand onto the doorknob and then, on second thought, returned to the dresser, opened the top drawer, removed a small package, and slipped it into his trouser pocket. One never knew.
Arriving at the Koch home, he felt the familiar wave of pity wash over him at the sight of its dilapidated condition. When Mrs. Koch opened the door to let him in, he saw that Holly was standing right behind her mother and gasped. To him, she'd never looked more beautiful.
"Wow!" he whispered.
She smiled. "You look great, Henry!"
"So do you!" He took her arm and led her to his car.
At the restaurant, he declined valet parking, then dropped Holly off at its entrance and parked a couple of blocks over. By the time he reached the place Holly was standing, he was a bit out of breath but didn't mind, as he figured he could use the exercise.
They entered the restaurant, and he heard Holly gasp. The interior was painted white, and the tables and chairs were also white. The latter were comfortably cushioned, and a row of spotlights had been placed at regular intervals along the outer rim of the ceiling. One wall consisted entirely of floor-length windows.
"Party of two?" asked the waiter.
"Yes, sir," Henry replied. They were led to their seats and handed menus.
Henry watched as Holly scanned the choices and knew she was probably searching for the least expensive option. "Order anything you want," he told her. In the end, she selected a medium-priced meal, and he did the same. He ordered wine for them both, but since he was driving, he planned to have only one glass and nurse it slowly throughout the evening.
When the drinks arrived, he smiled and held his own up. "Cheers." She touched hers to his.
Whether from the effect of the wine or the lighting Henry didn't know, but as he watched Holly eat, he began to notice things about her he'd never really seen before: how long and slender her fingers were holding the fork, how full her lips seemed.
"Your eyes are such a deep, dark brown," he murmured. "I could just lose myself in them."
"You have nice eyes, too." She blushed a deep red as she stared at the table top.
"I'm really glad we came here tonight," he continued.
"It's perfect." At last she raised her eyes to meet his, and he saw that they were shining with happiness. "The food, the wine, the music...everything."
"Perhaps we could go for a walk after dinner," he suggested. "It's such a clear night, and there's nothing I'd love more than to stroll beneath the stars with you." He'd never thought of himself as being particularly romantic before, yet tonight he felt a tenderness, a longing, for Holly that he'd never felt for anyone before. His long-ago teenage crushes and fantasies seemed so silly, so insignificant, by comparison.
After leaving the restaurant, they did just that, feeling the light breeze sweep against their faces as they strolled along. Words seemed inadequate to describe the feelings coursing through Henry: warmth, desire ... passion. On impulse, he took Holly's face between his hands and lifted it to kiss her lips. She responded with enthusiasm, her tongue slipping into his mouth to meet his own. He felt himself harden, pressed against her front.
"Don't take me home." Her whisper was throaty. "Take me back to your place."
He couldn't wait to do just that, suddenly afraid he wouldn't even last that long. The urge to feel her bare skin against his own was maddening.
Somehow he made it back to his car and had to force himself to drive below the speed limit on the way home. He entered the house to hear the telephone ringing. With a groan of frustration, he picked the receiver up.
"Henry! I've been trying to reach you for ages! Where in the world have you been?" Paige was breathless, her words rushing together. "Dad just called me from Russia. Mom's been hurt really bad, and they don't even know if she'll live!"