When they stopped in front of their destination, Christine almost asked Erik if he had the right place. It was quaint and classic, bearing a family name and crest on both the sign and the door, a signifier of the reputation of the restaurant they were about to step into. Not only did it look expensive, but it felt expensive, and Christine realized that she was completely out of her element. When he had said dinner out, she expected pizza, perhaps a cafe. Nothing like this.
When a waiter called Erik's name, she realized that he had made reservations, and they were led to a beautifully set table for two in a cozy corner of the restaurant. They were right against the window, allowing Christine to peer at the pedestrians on the street and the way the fading light glinted off of the sidewalk. In fact, she wasn't paying attention when their waiter approached their table, asking Erik if there was an occasion to be celebrated as a way to start a conversation.
"Occasion enough to call for a bottle of your best vintage," he replied smoothly, handing the waiter the wine menu without a glance at it. The waiter nodded politely and walked away, leaving Christine slightly reeling from the exchange.
"This is a beautiful restaurant," she had the mind to say, her voice a little softer than it normally was in conversation. He chose not to comment on this, instead allowing her to settle into the luxury around her on her own. He had enough to tell her that night.
"It is, isn't it?" Erik followed, taking a moment to look around. He then realized that he had absolutely no idea what to say to her, instead commenting on the first thing that he saw. "Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"
She shook her head, and instead of replying she chose to glance down at the menu in front of her. Although it was a rather small selection, limited to steaks and French dishes of classical origin, she still had no idea what she wanted. Just as she was about to give up - when in reality it had been no more than a few seconds - the waiter returned to the table with a bottle of wine. After setting two glasses on the table, the waiter opened the bottle with a customary flourish, first beginning to pour Erik's glass. Christine was just about to refuse wine, as she knew she should, when she found that Erik was smiling at her quite strangely. When the waiter poured her glass, she didn't protest, and neither did he, and when Erik ordered the menu of the night, she did as well. That was easy enough, she thought pleasantly.
When Erik found that Christine was staring perculiarly at her wine glass instead of drinking it, he gave a small chuckle, leading by example by taking a sip from his. "Enjoy it. You have showed self-restraint for a good while, and it should be rewarded."
Erik watched as she acceded, taking a first sip from her glass with little sigh of pleasure. It was absolutely delicious, and disappeared easily over the span of a few courses and light conversation. He allowed the food and wine to settle, watching her visibly relax under the dimmed light of the bistro. He wanted to wait until just the right moment, not wanting to spring the surprise too early, not when delayed gratification was so sweet.
That perfect time came in the lull preceding the main entree, when the second course was finished and taken away. Erik poured himself a second glass of wine, but Christine abstained, for the first had already given her cheeks a little redness and she did not want to inebriate herself. It was then that Erik shifted their natural conversation, his velvety baritone becoming a little firmer as he took hold of the subject.
"Actually, Christine, there is a reason I brought you here tonight."
"Oh?" She replied curiously, flashing him that adorable little smile that always served to turn his heart to putty. For a split second, she imagined that he might propose, but she quickly convinced herself that was not going to happen. Erik thought of saying more, but he wanted to surprise her completely, which would only be ruined by a lengthy explanation on his part. He simply reached into his coat, taking out the first stapled packet of paper - his contract - and setting in front of her gently.
Her brow furrowed in the way it always did when her curiosity was peaked, and she peered down at the cover page of the packet with a critical eye. After scanning the first few lines and being met with nondescript lawyer jargon, she then looked to the man across from her for an explanation.
"Christine, do not take this lightly when I say that you are in for an astounding career," he began, doing his best to look pleasant and reassuring, but serious all the while. "Though, forgive me when I say that you are very young and inexperienced, and therefore it is a poor idea to trust you with the bureaucratic nightmare that is organizing your life as a performer. This contract - should you accept - gives me permission to take care of all of that for you. In short, I would like to manage you."
For a few moments, Christine sat stock still, looking at Erik almost as if he grew a second head. It was not of any ill will, as Erik understood entirely, but from the pure shock of receiving such an offer. As Erik had expected, she was completely unprepared for such an exchange, and it almost made him laugh to see clearly how deeply honored and surprised she was.
"I… I have no idea what to say," she admitted truthfully, looking terribly lost in the midst of processing all of her emotions. "I'm so honored that you would do something like that for me."
"I would do anything for you, my dear." To say that he was telling the truth in that moment would be an understatement. In reality, if it would make Christine smile, he would cut out his own heart with a letter opener. But for now, the least he could do was pull out a pen from his jacket. "Though, there is more I have to discuss with you, but it requires you signing that before I do so."
She nodded, taking a moment to breathe before she took the pen from his offering hands. Normally, she would have opted to read something of this nature thoroughly before she signed it, but this was Erik, who she trusted implicitly. And so, as he requested, she added her signature to his at the bottom of the last page, handing the contract back to his waiting hand before he continued. To her further shock, he pulled out yet another packet, setting it in front of her to scan before he said anything. Her face, which had turned rosy from the wine, drained of all color when she read the letterhead at the top of the page: Paris National Opera.
"You remember Dr. Greene from the gala last month, do you not?" He asked simply, waiting patiently until she lifted her head and nodded before he continued. "Well, he has recently been appointed as the new artistic director for the Paris National Opera. And you made quite the impression."
He waited another few moments to allow her to process these words, taking care not to overload her with too much at once. She was already in shock as it was, poor dear. "The next production of the season is currently casting, and he reached out to me, naturally. I do think Gilda in Rigoletto would make quite the debut, don't you?"
Erik almost gave into the urge to chuckle when Christine's only reply was the silence of her shock, the full impact of the news hitting her like a tidal wave. It was only when her breathing became quite shallow that he became truly concerned, choosing to pour her another glass of wine instead of watch her suffer.
"Christine, as much as I would love to carry you home, watching you pass out in the middle of a crowded restaurant is not my idea of a good evening," he joked lightly in an attempt to calm her down. "Drink that, it'll help."
In an attempt to stem the flurry of emotions that threatened to swallow her whole, Christine did exactly as he instructed, taking a sip of the wine that was offered to her as she tried to remember how to breathe. When she finally managed it, she then looked for the strength to talk, knowing that she probably wasn't reacting in the way that he had originally intended.
"You're joking, right?" She asked, her expression clearly giving away the fact that she was stunned. "You have to be joking, this can't be real."
"I assure you whole-heartedly that it is," he promised, looking at her with his customary fond gaze. "Rehearsals begin after the New Year."
The fact that she could hardly breathe was evidence enough to how overwhelmed she was, but Erik could see that it was a good feeling. She couldn't express it then, but there was no end to how deeply honored she was to have the opportunity, even if she personally believed she didn't deserve it. After all, who else had the chance to perform their debut with the Paris National Opera, during their first year of conservatory no less? It was simply unreal.
"I just… I just don't know how this happened." She repeated her sense of absolute shock, leaving Erik entirely amused at how much he managed to surprise her. He was not able to reply right away due to the arrival of their main course, but they were soon alone once more to continue their conversation.
"I really don't think you know how talented you are, my dear," Erik commented, after which he took a moment to look down at his plate. "Filet mignon - suitable for an occasion such as this, hmm?"
"I suppose so," Christine replied sweetly, still wholly unfamiliar with the concept of such luxurious dining, even for celebrations. Of course, Mamma Valerius and her lived comfortably with a decent amount of money, but it was never frivolously spent on activities such as this. In fact, Christine's childhood was filled with memories of home-cooked meals, movie nights at home, and other such activities between her and her beloved guardian. And, once those memories were brought to the surface, they were met with the pooling of tears.
"I'm sorry," she immediately murmured, quickly wiping the tears away from her eyes. She knew that she didn't offer an explanation of her thoughts before she began tearing up, and he was probably very confused and flustered. "I should be happy, and trust me I am -"
"It's difficult, I know," he cooed, immediately understanding where her thoughts were going. "And you wish that she was here."
"More than anything," she agreed, taking a breath to compose herself and taking another sip of wine. Surprisingly to Christine, he did not grow overly concerned at her little outburst, and she assumed that he probably became used to her more emotional side over the last few weeks. Either way, he allowed their dinner to continue without much intervention. "Though, everything happens for a reason, I suppose."
"Indeed," Erik replied simply, choosing to change the topic of conversation to something more pleasant, lest Christine grow upset again. "Rigoletto is a stunning opera, and I look forward to teaching it to you."
"I have seen it a few times now, and listened to it more," she commented. "It is beautiful, but there is so much that can go wrong… Gilda's Act One aria is difficult."
"It is nothing that you cannot get through. I would never have you perform something that would potentially damage your voice. The last thing we need is for you to become injured."
She nodded, though a bit nervously at the thought of what was to come, but assured him wholeheartedly that she believed him. The rest of the dinner was spent in conversation about tomorrow's audition, the classes she would return to, and the like, general topics that Erik knew would not cause emotional upset. After a course of crème brûlée, which just so happened to be one of Christine's favorite desserts, the bill was placed in front of Erik by their waiter. Christine cringed internally upon wondering how much the bill was, but Erik simply placed his card in the sleeve without a second glance. Instead of bringing up this fact, knowing full well that it was entirely within Erik's budget, she chose to thank him.
"Dinner was wonderful," she told him earnestly as they stood from the table. In a move that surprised him entirely, she took his arm, allowing him to lead her into the Paris night like a gentleman. "Thank you for tonight, and for everything."
"The honor is mine," he replied, in the fashion of a true gentleman. "We shall make wonders together, Christine, you know that by now."