“What?” she had asked that morning, when he had texted to tell her where they were going. “The place with truffles that cost an arm and a leg?”
“Yes, and whatever you wear will be uniquely Orchid, as always!”
They met in her lobby. She saw how his eyes grew wide, sending a jolt through her. The Art Deco lamp near the entry cast a yellow glow around him. He ran his hand through his hair, a move she’d seen many times. And yet that simple gesture caused her chest to well, as if she were drowning in this man. Even if her eyes were closed, she could only see Phoenix. A hundred echoes of Phoenix in every corner.
From him, she had learned about grace under pressure, and that leadership meant doing the right thing, even if it cost you. This man, the one who waited for her with cheeks that couldn’t stop grinning, filled the room with his presence.
A woman he didn’t heed stuttered her gait over the sight of him as she pushed out onto the street. His gaze never wavered from Orchid’s.
He took two long strides towards her and said her name.
They walked to the door and he held it open for her, while keeping his distance.
Outside, she tried to shake off the chill, the fabric of her dress suddenly thin for nighttime temperatures.
“Would you like my jacket?” He began to shrug out of his blazer until she waved off his efforts.
She knew that her willpower would crumble under the scent of his coat. The heady mixture of musk, spice and Phoenix might unravel the ribbons threading her dress. She imagined the fabric pooling at her feet. Right there on the sidewalk.
A cold wind shoved them towards the brown brick buildings that lined the sidewalk. Her teeth clacked from the shiver that ran through her.
She saw how a corner of his mouth twitched at her fib.
“Okay, fine, you can block the wind, but keep your jacket, no sense in both of us freezing,” she said, edging closer to him.
He smelled even better than she’d imagined, like freshly laundered linens sun-dried in a field of blackberries and vanilla.
There was no sense of time as they walked. She never wanted this to end.
Inside, Phoenix answered the hostess’ greeting. “Reservations for two, under Kai Lan.”
Orchid convulsed with merriment. He attempted to maintain a straight face.
Those two words were the golden ticket that unlocked a little round table, one with a view to the outside.
They were handed menus.
“So many choices,” she said. And then, “Wait, is this place vegetarian?” She looked up at Phoenix.
His eyes glistened with delight.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve walked by here dozens of times. I knew I could never afford it, but even so… I thought I knew every vegetarian place within ten blocks of my place.”
“It isn’t normally,” he said simply. “Vegetarian, that is.”
Orchid felt her jaw fall open. He not only had wanted to celebrate her success, he’d convinced a Michelin-starred restaurant to produce a meatless menu.
“This is the best day ever,” she said, the sentiment traveling from her heart to her lips.
“You deserve it,” he told her.
She looked at the menu. No one had ever done such a thoughtful thing for her. Memories wound through her teenage years, where the frozen end of a Sara Lee pound cake marked her special occasions. Those were the days when it was easier to pretend she didn’t matter. Today, she did.
Their waiter approached. He was an older gentleman whose dark eyebrows and kindly manner resembled her dad. That is, her dad who had been filtered through an aging app. As if she needed more nostalgia to push her emotions over the edge. She dabbed a finger under each eye.
“Bonsoir, I am Edward. I hope the chef’s choices are to your liking. Do you have any questions?”
Orchid smiled at him. “I’m having a hard time choosing. What do you recommend?” She handed him the menu.
