Chapter 474: New York, NY
Tuesday, February 14th, Evening
The UBER dropped her off in front of the restaurant; Fallon stepped out and settled up. She gracefully glided to the front door, which someone held open for her. Stepping through the vestibule, she walked in and looked over to the bar. Grant sat at the bar with a tumbler in his hand. Fallon walked over to him and took a seat next to him.
"I don't normally do this, but do you come here often?" Fallon asked.
Grant took a sip of his amber liquid and gently swallowed it. "Does your husband know you're here?" Grant asked.
"How are you sure there's a husband?" Fallon asked.
"With a pickup line like that, there's always a husband," Grant said.
"How are you not sure? I'm just nervous?" Fallon asked.
"The dress you're wearing, the perfume, the way you walk, you're a woman out on the prowl," Grant said and took another sip of his drink.
"Maybe, I'm tired of being alone," Fallon said.
"Your husband leaves a beautiful woman like you alone? I can see why you're out on the prowl," Grant said.
"No husband to leave me alone," Fallon said.
"It's not so easy to live a double life," Grant said and sipped his drink.
Steady Fallon echoed in her ears; it's just part of the game we're playing. This is entirely a separate thing. "But I'm not living a double life," Fallon said.
"With the dress, the shoes, and your bag," Grant said, "You'd have to have someone with money behind you."
"I work hard, and when I can, I treat myself. These are also older designs," Fallon said.
"Still, says you have money," Grant said.
"Are you a detective or something, Mister?" Fallon asked, trying to channel her best film noir femme fatale voice.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," Grant said.
"How can I trust you if you won't answer me?" Fallon asked.
"The question is, how do I trust you?" Grant asked.
"You see what you get, nothing more, nothing less," Fallon said.
"I didn't get ahead by trusting every woman I've met in a bar," Grant said.
"Neither did I," Fallon said.
"So, of all the places on this island, what brings you here?" Grant asked.
"I heard the food and atmosphere were delightful," Fallon said.
"I see, and you came over to me in the bar," Grant said and sipped his drink.
"You interest me," Fallon said.
"I'm just down on my luck me," Grant said and finished his drink.
The Matre d'hôtel walked over to Grant. Grant put his tumbler down on the bar and looked up at the matre d'hotel.
"Your table is ready, Mister Coyle," The matre d'hotel said.
"Thank you," Grant said, stood up, left some bills on the table, and turned to Fallon. Grant held out his hand, "Shall we go eat, Fallon?"
Fallon smiled, took his hand, stood up, and leaned forward, putting her mouth by his ear. "Of course," she whispered.
Grant nodded, and they intertwined their arms. Fallon took a moment to kiss Grant's cheek. Grant and Fallon followed the matre d'hotel to the table. Once there, Grant held Fallon's chair as she sat down. Eventually, Grant took a seat across from her. The menus were passed out; they looked through them.
"Have you ever eaten French Cuisine?" Grant asked.
Fallon nodded, "I believe I have, once," she said.
"If you have any questions, just ask," Grant said.
"Okay, I will," Fallon said.
The server walked over and was about to say something to Fallon. Fallon looked up with a severe ye which ended what the server was about to say. Grant observed the reaction then turned to the server.
"Are you ready to order?" the server asked in shock.
"Yes, I'll have the Duck Confit," Fallon said.
Grant looked at the server, "I'll have the Steak Frites," he said, and ordered a bottle of wine for the table.
Once the server walked away, Grant turned to Fallon. Fallon looked back at Grant and smiled.
"So, how was your day?" Grant asked.
"Busy," Fallon said, "A lot of paperwork crossed my desk."
"Did you get the package I sent you?" Grant asked.
"Yes, yes I have," Fallon said.
"Did you look at what I sent?" Grant asked.
Fallon shook her head, "No, I've not had the time yet," she said.
"Okay, I think you like what I had sent over, and I promise it's not more than a year old," Grant said.
"I'm sure it will be perfect," Fallon said.
Grant took a sip of his water and put it down. "This will be the first time you've met my mother," he said.
"I met her not long ago when I passed out on our date," Fallon said.
"Oh yeah, that's right," Grant said and took another sip of his water, "I mean more formally."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Fallon said.
"I'm sure it will be," Grant said.
"One of the things that crossed my desk today," Fallon said.
"What?" Grant asked.
"A notice for the Met Gala," Fallon said.
"Anything exciting?" Grant asked.
"Not much, I believe one of the co-chairs is Alex Dupree, and the entertainment will be Anya Wolfle," Fallon said.
Grant nodded, "Hmm, who is the sponsor?" he asked.
"Davis Enterprises," Fallon said, also knowing Brooke would be one of the co-chairs. The sponsorship had all the hallmarks of Sabrina Cohen.
"So, how does that affect you?" Grant asked.
"The foundation is a big supporter of The Met, and more than likely they will send our patron," Fallon said.
"Hmm, I don't believe I've ever seen nevermind met Ms. Stafford," Grant said.
"Me either," Fallon said.
Grant nodded, "What's the theme?" he asked.
"Carnival of Venice, I believe," Fallon said.
Grant smiled, "You would look ravishing in a Colombina Mask," he said.
"I'm not one for wearing masks," Fallon said.
"Most people wear masks," Grant said.
"So, I am told," Fallon said.
The server arrived and presented Grant with the bottle he had ordered. After the customary ritual, the server poured them, each a glass. After her first sip, Fallon held up her glass and studied Grant, wondering what game they were playing now.
