With the end of my exams for the fall term, I'm free to keep on writing for the next week! Although I have to admit I might be short on time because I just want to relax from doing all my studying. Alas, I had to have this chapter written as a gift of pleasure for my faithful reviewers.

So! Here's a glass of sirop de grenadine for dawnleaf1234 (special thanks), Anime Review's, The Legendary Falcon Fall, and The same honoured guest (Please tell me you were pleased. You seemed happy! Merry Christmas to you too). Also, for QUEENSPELLER67, you get a glass of sirop de grenadine as well, but help yourself to some croquembouche. A credit extends to Yuu. Please join in!

So, The Legendary Falcon Fall... Is Steven falling in love? Perhaps... or not.

It is... December 25th! So here is my Christmas present! A new chapter!

Chapter eighteen: The Stone Open

"So? What's with the splash of wine on this tablecloth?" Cynthia said very, very, coolly to Steven, who was still at a loss for words. "I'd have thought you'd try to greet a guest better than that!"

Steven did not know what to say, but he could feel his heart racing.

"Y – Y – You're…" he couldn't bear to look at her in the eye, as if he somehow felt out of place. "You're not the actress I – we – I was expecting… Er… uh… Would you like something to drink?"

Cynthia picked up the empty glass with one hand, and examined it carefully like an archeologist would to an artifact. Sighing, she placed it down on the table and nodded back. Steven, still partly unsure of what to do and still absorbing the shock of seeing her sitting in front of him, turned around to the same waitress who had poured him his wine earlier.

Still not comprehending the full beauty of what he was seeing in front of him, his mind was going in different directions. But for all he knew he still had to treat Cynthia like a regular guest. "What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"I'll have what you're having." Cynthia's response was immediate.

Steven took a deep breath as if he hadn't registered what she had just said. Silently he turned his head to look at his side. One snap of his fingers, and the waitress returned with the bottle. She cautiously poured Cynthia the same red wine into her glass, but Cynthia could detect shaky hands still. Steven tried to watch the sight warmly, but he really wanted to feel cold for once.

To think I was going to reserve this bottle for our special guest, he thought.

Nevertheless, part of him wanted the sight of Cynthia to make up for it. Once the glass was filled, she picked it up to sip it slowly. Sighing, Cynthia held her glass up to swirl it several times with her wrist before sipping again. In all of Steven's experience with dining in his own restaurant, he had never felt this uncomfortable…

"Mm… This is a very delicate choice of wine. I can taste it," Cynthia complimented. "You really shouldn't have spoiled me, my friend."

Er… Right, as if I intended for you to try it, Steven thought.

He took a deep breath before saying, "I've been told that my guest was supposed to be an actress, but since you're clearly not her, I can't say for certain if you're welcome here."

Cynthia's reply was cool. "I'm that extra guest that actress had reserved notified your receptionists about. Now, I can see you've set aside an extra seat here, so you should have been expecting me. But of course, anonymity is a thing that exists in booking."

Mesmerised by her beauty again, whether it was because of her hair or her eyeshadow, never mind her jewelry or even her choice of dress, Steven turned away so as to not look at her. He had to remind himself that this woman was his chief competition. But – how was it possible to think of her that way when she was a completely different person before him?

"So, while we wait," Cynthia said, apparently not noticing Steven's state, "I've been wondering what sort of dishes you'll be serving me tonight. Oh, and I'd like you to serve them to me, personally. It'll make this dining experience more authentic, wouldn't you say?"

Steven opened his mouth to say something, but no sound out at first. Choosing his thoughts carefully, he then said, "That's not really how I do company procedure, especially on request. But I don't see –"

"Nuh-uh, your first priority is the customer, and in this case, a very special customer," Cynthia said those words as if trying to pierce them into Steven's mind. "You have to make sure this customer is satisfied."

Before Steven could say anything, his words were stopped short by the soft, yet evil, smile the woman across was giving him. Even if her hair was long enough to cover one of her eyes, she was looking splendid.

"This customer expects a first-class dinner," she said as if she was enjoying the speechless face Steven was giving her. "This customer wants top-class service. Even if you must do it yourself! This customer would expect nothing less than the chef being her personal host."

Mortified and defeated, in a way, Steven looked directly into Cynthia's eyes. Those beautiful eyes complimented by eyeshadow.

"Shall I interest you in a salad?" he finally asked.

Cynthia stared back into his eyes for a moment, before she turned to look aside at the glimmering sunset that made this restaurant so well-known. Slowly, she returned her gaze back to Steven and giving a nod at the same time. Steven did not smile, but he acknowledged the order and subsequently stood up.

On the way back, well away from Cynthia, he felt a cold hand clamp onto his shoulder.

"Now, I know you're one for style, my friend, but wow. I am impressed! Any woman would love to make your acquaintance. It seems like all those years searching for one haven't gone to waste!"

Steven hung his head. Why did it have to be him again?

"Wallace. I don't think this is the time –"

"Just wow! You've wowed everyone woman in the city! Or at least you could!" Wallace continued, and went as far as standing in front of Steven so as to get in his way. "How would I know this? Both my niece and Winona have taken a liking to you! Now, if Lisia was your age, you'd be the first on her dating list, but of course I wouldn't allow it."

Steven looked very annoyed.

"Aha, and then there's you and her," Wallace emphasised the 'her' in particular. "I thought you had something of a grudge against her, and now look at you. The truth comes out! Wow, I wouldn't have thought you had the gut to ask her out for dinner in your own restaurant. I'll admit, Cynthia looks marvelous tonight, wouldn't you say?"

He just loved the look he was receiving on Steven's end. The latter was taken aback, severely, looking more like he didn't know what comeback to think of.

"Sure. Maybe she does look stunning tonight –" Steven began.

"YES! Now you're speaking my language," Wallace interrupted, which made his friend all the more annoyed. "This is your big moment, Steven. Don't spoil it. You're the ideal man for the ideal woman, so this is your moment of – opportunity."

"But she wasn't – she's not – she's – she wasn't invited here in the first place!" Steven protested. "Well… in a way."

Wallace's face became smug. "Just try to be the gentleman she deserves. You will do that or I will make it happen. You decide. Oh, and don't worry if you fail, because that's what I'm here for! Moral support, right? Between friends?"

However, Steven suddenly caught wind that Wallace, Winona, and Lisia were here on this floor.

"Wait just a moment," Steven said, suddenly staring into Wallace's eyes. "How did you get onto this floor? It was supposed – I'm told that this floor was completely booked private!"

"My friend, that is a tale for another time," Wallace replied in a manner suggesting he didn't care. "I'll tell you that a mutual friend of mine has kindly –"

The head chef could not have felt more exasperated. So he left.

Cynthia watched Steven approach her table with a plate of salad in his hand. She had to admit, it seemed out of the ordinary that Steven would be serving her food, even though she had kind of forced him into it. However, she had to admit that Steven looked stylish nonetheless. Particularly with the unusual slim white tie and his suit.

"Er… Yes," Steven muttered, bringing the salad plate in front of Cynthia. "Watmel berry salad, if you don't mind. Bon appetit."

Cynthia, though, held up her glass of wine to swirl it several times. After bringing the glass to her lips to savour it slowly, as if she were treasuring the moment, she set the glass down. She noticed Steven had a plate of the same Watmel berry salad before him.

Watmel berry was served, sliced and diced by the cooks and decorated with herbs, pistachio bits, feta fragments, and some traces of greens. It wasn't the picture of a typical salad, with the unusual absence of greens, but it was a salad no less.

As expected, it was served on a stone plate.

Cynthia picked up her fork to spear one of the Watmel pieces. She speared a piece delicately and put the piece into her mouth and, of course, she chewed. Her eyes then fixed on Steven's fork before fixing them on his eyes, as if asking him to join her.

It was a silent dinner for that part. The only thing that made the moment more unsettling, but romantic, was the glamourous sunset to their side alongside the view of the stunning Kalos coast.

Steven wondered just how much longer he could last. Uncomfortably, he helped himself to some Watmel berry salad too. He loved the flavour of a savoury fragrance blended with the watery sweetness that made the Watmel berry special, but he wondered how Cynthia would react too.

Halfway through eating, Steven decided to engage in some conversation. "So… How was your day? Anything exciting happen? It's only been like three days since you were last here. Oh, and I'm even more surprised that you showed up here. I thought you would have… Never mind."

In truth, Steven was more surprised she showed up here at all. After the debacle with Cynthia's supplier and the disclosure of a secret, he would have expected her of all people to have avoided coming here at all – and especially in such a form! From a business perspective, he had to admit there had to be a catch somewhere. However, as she was a guest, could he really think that way?

Cynthia put down her fork to stare away, deep in thought. She was actually trying what would be the best topic to keep Steven interested, but there wasn't much she could think about. But it didn't take long for her to think of something, on the other hand.

"I just operated my business as usual," she said, finally. "I had some interesting customers who showed up just for chocolate fondue. That reminds me… Steven, look at me in the eye."

He felt frozen when Cynthia's gaze pierced into his.

"Did you stop by my coffee shop?"

"I… No," Steven lied, and discreetly had another bite of salad to take his mind off things.

By the time that only a glimmer of sunshine was above the oceanic horizon like it was eclipsing the sky and sea, Steven saw to serving Cynthia a round of soup. At this point, the Stone Restaurant and Bistro had – as directed by James d'Arc – shifted to nighttime procedure, and therefore dinner hours. The glass windows, spanning a height from floor to ceiling, provided a still-marvelous backdrop as the regular lights dimmed to make way for the nighttime lights. Hanging lights from the ceiling provided a modern air, whereas lights fixed on the ceiling gave the restaurant atmosphere something workable.

Cynthia was a little unsure if she was enjoying herself. Nevertheless, she continued to munch on her salad whilst observing the handsome man sitting across her.

From a distant corner, four heads peeked from behind to spy on the pair. Martine, James, Sophie, and Laurent. Although they were there to primarily spy on their boss, they were divided. Martine and Sophie couldn't help staring away at Steven in his handsome attire. It was worth noticing that the sight of seeing their boss made them blush. James still had a concerned eye for Steven, but he ended up looking in Cynthia's direction once in a while. Laurent's jaw dropped in exactly the same way when he saw Cynthia in the first place.

"It's a shame this woman is the one," Martine sighed. "I'm soooooo jealous."

"Hey, we're not playing matchmaker here," Sophie whispered, though she still eyed Steven with some degree of envy. "Besides, how would you know?"

Martine was about to say why, but realised that it would be best if James didn't know that she had searched Steven's office for the reason. So she kept quiet. The way she was leaning was a bit uncomfortable, but she supposed watching this was worth it.

"Wait. Who's handling the lobby?" James suddenly said.

Laurent and Sophie looked at each other, with Sophie looking up and Laurent looking down into her eyes.

"Uh…"

"I'm not sure. I want to stay!"

Sophie's face became a pout, and looked at Laurent with pleading eyes.

"Pleeeeaaaase? Laurent? Do it for me?"

Whatever was in Sophie's eyes was enough to make Laurent shudder. Not that he was intimidated, but that she was seemingly charming when he looked in her eyes. As if she was trying to charm him!

"Wait, you're not using this as an excuse to keep seeing our boss, are you?"

"What else?"

Realising what she had said, Sophie blushed and turned to look at Steven and Cynthia again. Rolling his eyes, Laurent quietly retreated back to the front desk in order to manage the flow of customers that were coming in. Although, he left Sophie with a request that she continually update him on what was going on between Steven and Cynthia.

Upon reaching the lobby, Laurent found that a crowd had amassed before the front desk. They were mostly made of… not-so-ordinary people. The thing was that everyone was holding at least one camera, or lights, or microphones. It was as if a movie crew had decided to show up.

"Can I help you with anything?" he cautiously asked. He wasn't one to judge, but based on the unsettling behaviour of the crowd, they were not here to eat.

"We have a reservation for a party of sixty," a photographer went up to him. "It should be on the third floor."

Finding it odd that Steven and Cynthia were eating on that floor, Laurent ran through the details on his computer. "I have no records indicating a reservation of that kind whatsoever."

"Your system must have a problem," a second photographer joined the first. "Very well. In that case, we want to see your boss."

Now thinking of Steven, who was clearly busy, Laurent tried to think of a solution. Perhaps that's what James was for. Rather than responding directly to the photographers, Laurent reached for the phone beside him to call for James… and Sophie. There was an excuse to get her here now and focus on working! Oh, if only there were similar excuses for the others too. Then again, he wouldn't mind switching places with Sophie at the moment.

From the looks of it, it was as if a riot could start at the drop of a glass.

By the time Laurent put down the phone, he saw to investigate this aggressive behaviour from this photographer. To be safe, Laurent made sure that a Pokémon was deployed to maintain order. He was no Trainer, but he kept a Hawlucha with him just to keep him company at home. On the other hand, he would initiate phone calls with Sophie from time to time, as having her as a co-worker provided him with a local friend.

"I will require your name and number, just to ensure if what you say can be verified," Laurent demanded. "You can do this while we wait for my manager to arrive."

A waitress had arrived to collect the empty salad plates from Steven and Cynthia. It wasn't before long that Steven returned with two cups of soup. A bowl was optional, but Steven thought it was best that his intended guest enjoy smaller portions of the meal, as these were meant to be appetizers. Now, with an unintended guest taking the intended guest's place, Steven was less sure.

"So what do you do in your spare time?" Cynthia asked. She tasted the soup, which she found surprisingly good.

It was difficult to talk to her still, when she seemed just so…

Steven could not describe her still. For starters it was difficult to describe his own feelings right now, whereas his eyes were hypnotised by Cynthia's jewelry or the dress that left her arms and shoulders exposed, and it wasn't helping that Wallace was here. Speaking of which, he better think of something fast to avoid having Wallace commit some sort of disastrous intervention.

He also felt self-conscious of how handsome all the other women – Lisia and Winona included – perceived him. Would he have the same effect on Cynthia? That could be advantageous, but then again, the thought of Wallace intervening was the last thing he wanted. In a way, Wallace was his executioner unless he got things right.

Putting a spoonful of creamy soup into his mouth and gulping it down after, Steven replied, "You know me. I'm something of a rock maniac. I adore rocks, so whenever I'm not busy, I'll just head out of the city to nearby Route 8 and the Connecting Cave to explore."

She studied him carefully as if trying to detect any suspicion that he was lying, but in her eyes she was distracted by the handsome face and the fine suit he wore. Was he trying that as if to influence her, or was it just because he was in the mood? She assumed the latter, as his intended guest wasn't due to arrive for a while.

"What about you?"

"Oh?" Cynthia perked. "I'm just happy with reading history books, you know? While I'm here, I thought I'd study some Kalos legends here, but only in my downtime, mind you."

She went on helping herself to more soup, and even so, Steven found it difficult whether to take this as a welcome sight or an unwelcome one. Silently, he joined her in taking in more soup too. And, regarding his new recipe, what was he to do about it? It was completely prepared and everyone, or at least the cooks, expected him to serve it to the invited guest. Of all people, it had to be her.

He looked into her shadowed eyes, as beautiful as they were. "Would you be interested in the entrée tonight? It's not my trademark Accolade, but I hope it might suffice?"

In the time Steven had gone, Cynthia merely picked up her glass of wine to sip what was left in it. Sighing, she signalled the waitress to have her pour a little more. The waitress did indeed return with the bottle but she seemed more edgy than ever.

"Ooh… I can't believe how lucky of a girl you are!" she squealed, as she poured the bottle's contents into Cynthia's glass so it was quarter-full.

"Wha…? What's that supposed to mean?" Cynthia questioned. She was annoyed, but no less anxious.

"Oh, please," she said sarcastically. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed! Well, your loss."

Even with that tone, the waitress wore a smile as she left Cynthia. Now, Cynthia knew she was exhibiting something of political behaviour – that she could try to manipulate some of her competition by saying mere words, but in this case it seemed to have backfired on her. However, she could tell that she had flattered her rival, and was fine with just that. After all, this was meant to be a formal dinner. Relaxed, she picked up her glass to sip more wine.

There was much to appreciate for Diantha having booked the entire floor off. Had anyone noticed that it was just her and Steven dining together would be a real embarrassment for herself. At the same time, it could be used to embarrass her rival too. While she was enjoying dinner, there were some political motives for coming.

Plus, she had a surprise planned for Steven if Diantha actually showed up to the restaurant.

Many minutes later, Steven returned to the table with a single dish on a square stone plate, which was baked hot. He decided that given he had his partial fill of the recipe from much earlier, it was better to just serve the one dish on its own to his guest.

Cynthia raised her eyebrows when the dish was placed in front of her. It smelled wonderful.

"Impressive." That was her coolly-stated remark. "Tell me, what would you call this dish?"

On the stone plate was nothing more than a sandwich, but it was open-faced, so it had ingredients piled on it such that it would be difficult to eat with bare hands. A fire-roasted beefsteak cut into pulled shreds lay piled on top of the hot baguette, with a blend of the spice of Tamato berry and sweet onions, and the creamy LaBrie cheese that was molten flawlessly and drizzled all over the bread.

"I haven't thought of a name for it," Steven admitted. "This is a brand-new recipe that only a select few could try out first."

"You mean that I'm the very first to taste it," she whispered. "I like your shoes, by the way."

Steven couldn't help but peek at his shoes. They were still smoke-white in colour. Was Cynthia being honest? Or was she playing games here? However… he became conscious of his actions; that by serving her the newest dish in his arsenal, it would be like serving her out of affection. Wait, would she see that the same way?

At the same time, Cynthia picked up her knife and fork to begin to eat. He watched her delicately cut out a piece of baguette with a little of LaBrie, beef shred, and onion on it, and popped it in her mouth. He wasn't jealous of her, as the dish was his own creation, but he still carried that same feeling that this dish wasn't for her.

Another side of Steven, however, seemed happy that a customer was enjoying this dish.

"You still haven't answered my question," Cynthia said to break Steven's thoughts. "What do you call this entrée?"

As Steven had not given her an immediate answer, and given she was first to taste the new recipe, Cynthia deduced that Steven had no idea. She picked up her glass to sip from it, and putting it down and brushing her hair to cover her left eye again, as if to infatuate him.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm sure you'll have a name for it."

Steven took a deep breath. He tried to avoid her gaze but failed. "I call the Stone Open. It'll probably be the successor to my flagship dish, I assure you, since this has been my best idea in months."

"I'll toast to that," Cynthia said, picking up her glass once more.

Steven wasn't too sure of what to do, as she had her glass held up in front of her so it was in between his eyes and hers. Was it a show of friendship here? Or was there political motive? Then again, it wasn't every day that he dressed this nice for dinner, and with a very beautifully dressed woman sitting across from him.

Still holding his breath, Steven picked up his glass of wine too. Their glasses clinked.

Now what do you think of these circumstances? Heh, now dinner is served, with a delicious serving of the Stone Open, with Watmel berry salad, and soup. Please review to place your order! And Merry Christmas!