Jesse had taste. She definitely had good taste.
The restaurant she chose was a
classy sort of outdoor café like the type seen on the French Rivera, complete
with smartly dressed waiters and phony French accents. It seemed strange to find such a classy
place in this tiny town, but I was glad Jesse had found it anyway.
I was curious, though, that she had
chosen a place called Le Amore Chateau—it
seemed to me like a romantic-type restaurant catering to couples. I knitted my eyebrows in puzzlement. Why would Jesse pick a romantic outdoor
café? My heart jumped hopefully. Could there be something she was getting
at? Was this perhaps a casual sign that
she was…?
A nervous shiver went up my
spine. No, it was impossible. The name had to be a coincidence—she
probably hadn't even noticed it. She had
probably only picked it for it's classy French style.
Still…I watched her closely for any
signs that she might be up to something. Whether she had intentionally picked the café for it's romantic
atmosphere or not, perhaps this would be my chance to make another move.
I felt her watching me expectantly,
and turned to her. She smiled brightly,
disarming and innocent, or at least it appeared so. I had learned in the past never to judge Jesse by her cover.
"What do you think?" she inquired
expectantly, leaning her elbows on the small two-person table and leaning her
chin on them comfortably. Momentarily
lost in her eyes, I mentally shook myself, smiling back casually and hoping she
hadn't noticed the partial slip. It had
been an embarrassment when she had caught me gazing at her back at the theater,
and I reminded myself to be more cautious, hoping her suspicions weren't
already up.
"This place is great!" I replied
truthfully, turning to enjoy the balcony view of the boardwalk so as not to
slip again under her blue-eyed gaze. My
stomach was fluttering nervously, sick with controlling my emotions for such a
prolonged period of time. The delicate
scent of her perfume wafted towards me on the breeze, making me heady with
it. I wanted to feel her in my arms
again, stroking her hair, breathing deeply of her scent, tracing the line of
her cheekbones with my fingers. It
would be like heaven to kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips against my
skin—lost in the sweet oblivion of her taste.
I saw her nod out of the corner of
my eye, sighing gently in relaxation.
"It's like being in Paris," she commented,
following my gaze and staring out at the crystalline blue waters of ocean
beyond the balcony. I watched her
profile, admiring its perfection and the dreamy look on her face.
I wished that she would turn that
look of longing and serenity on me.
"I feel a bit under-dressed,
though," I commented self-consciously, finding the silence to increase my
discomfort and longing. She laughed
lightly, musically, and turned to me again, smiling benevolently.
"You look fine just the way you
are," she commented, turning away quickly after the compliment to study the
waves with sudden fascination.
Almost too quickly.
My mind balked. Was that the trace of a blush on her face?
The silence was becoming
increasingly uncomfortable. Why, I
could only wonder at. How could two
such close friends who had never found it hard to be around one another before
suddenly find it so hard to strike up a conversation?
I told myself I had to break the
silence.
"I wonder where our waiter is?" I
remarked out loud, searching the fairly full patio for some service. Jesse finally seemed to lose her strange
fascination with the waves, turning in her seat to search the outdoor
restaurant with an irritated scowl.
"I certainly can't say much for the
service," she muttered, putting me more at ease with her return to character.
As if on cue, one of the phony
French waiters wandered over to our table purposely, smiling with over-enthused
cheesiness.
"Ah, monsieur, mademoiselle! Bonjour! Welcome to Le Amore Chateau," he greeted brightly in a heavily forced
French accent, inclining his head politely to us both. "I am Frederick, and I will be your waiter
for ze afternoon. Would you care for
something to drink before you order?"
Jesse began to shake her head
politely, remarking that water was fine, but I cut in abruptly, sitting forward
in my chair with sudden interest.
"Do you have a wine list?"
Frederick smiled charmingly, glad to
find a customer to rack up his liquor sales. "Why yes, monsieur. Would you
care to see it?" he offered politely, presenting the small red menu to me.
I took the menu from him, scanning
the list quickly for something appropriate for the occasion.
"Ah, how about a bottle of your
finest white wine," I requested finally. Frederick smiled charmingly again.
"A fine selection, monsieur. We have a wonderful Chateau Ste Michelle
that should suit you and ze lady."
Checking our I.D.'s (both fake and
issued from Rocket headquarters) he thanked us again and disappeared to
retrieve the selection. I caught Jesse's
curious glance out of the corner of my eye, turning back to her again with a
slightly smug grin.
"Wine?" she asked, surprised by my
boldness. I couldn't help but notice
the pleased look she was trying to hide.
I shrugged casually, hoping I
appeared as confident as I felt, and leaned back in my chair.
"Why not? It's not like we're going to be paying for this meal anyway—we
might as well make the most of it."
She looked impressed, like I had
hoped she would. "Hmm, why not?" she
repeated softly, suddenly leaning across the table and surprising me. She was so close; I wanted to touch her more
than anything.
Her lips curled into that familiar
smile of self-confidence, incredibly enticing from her nearness. If I had leaned just a bit forward in my seat
across the small table, I was sure our lips would have met. I forced myself not to think about it,
controlling the urge to do so with painful difficulty.
"You know, we haven't done anything
together, just the two of us, for so long," she pointed out suddenly, turning
her blue eyes up at me in the most perfect way so as to appear innocent and
longing. I shook myself inwardly,
telling myself I was seeing things.
With increasing boldness, I rested
my arms on the table across from her, hoping she wouldn't back down in the
sudden invasion of personal space. We
were so close, I could smell her perfume again, beckoning me even closer. I stayed my ground, however, afraid of her
backing down if I pushed my luck.
"It has been a long time," I replied
evasively, wishing I had the courage to close the gap between us and touch her
lips with mine.
She stared into my eyes for a
moment, an unreadable expression on her face, then suddenly backed away,
returning to her seat as if nothing had happened.
"I wonder what happened to Meowth,"
she commented hastily, opening her menu casually and avoiding my eyes.
I watched her for a moment, feeling
my heart sink in my chest, then sat up slowly in my chair as well, picking up
my own menu.
"Yes," I answered, unable to tear my
eyes from the suddenly fascinating menu and trying to hide the deep color
rising in my face. I hoped she couldn't
hear the strain in my voice.
She nodded behind her menu,
apparently just as engrossed in it's contents as I pretended to be with my own.
"I hope nothing's happened to him,"
she continued blandly, not really into the subject, simply trying to strike up
a conversation.
I nodded absent-mindedly, deciding
to search the menu for the most expensive meal. A part of my mind felt a bit guilty that I wasn't worrying over
my friend's two-day absence, but I was too absorbed into trying to get through
the meal without letting Jesse know something was up to linger on the subject.
To my relief, the waiter finally
returned with our wine, pouring us each a glass and inquiring whether we were
ready to order. Jesse nodded, finally
looking up from her menu to face him.
"Yes, I'll have the champagne
lobster," she replied, and I looked up at her suddenly, surprised she had
picked the same thing as me.
Frederick nodded, a surreptitious
grin touching the edges of his mouth, and jotted her order down on his
pad. He turned to me.
"And for ze monsieur?" he asked
politely. I caught Jesse's eye, who had
turned to look at me expectantly, and smiled knowingly.
"I'll have what she's having," I
answered simply, not taking my eyes off of hers.
I was not going to back down this
time. I hoped she wouldn't either,
hoped she would see my meaning in her eyes.
I needed this meal to amount to more
than a gigantic bill.
* * *