Okay, so maybe being a hussy isn’t so bad. Mebel gives herself a mental shake of the head. “Thank you, you look nice also.”
Alain looks over Mebel’s shoulder, and his mouth stretches into a small smile. “Your friends?” he says with a nod.
Mebel turns around and sees Bella and Gemma standing in the doorway, waving and grinning. “Don’t stay out too late!” Gemma calls.
“Bring her back in one piece,” Bella says.
Alain raises his hand to them, smiling, then he opens the car door for Mebel. It’s a small gesture, but it touches Mebel all the same because she isn’t used to it. Opening the car door or any door in general isn’t part of the culture in most Asian countries, and Mebel can’t help but be charmed by this simple act. The only times Henk opened doors for her were when she had her hands full, and he certainly never did it with the magneticcharm and the intense gaze that Alain is now radiating. Aiya, if Mebel were watching another woman going through this right now, she would smack her over the head and tell her to keep her feet on the ground. So what if a handsome Frenchman is opening the car door for her? Are her standards so low that this is all it takes to sweep her off her feet?
Apparently so, because Mebel finds to her horror that she’s having to bite down on her lip to keep from smiling.
Alain closes the door with a soft click, then goes around the car and slides into the driver’s seat. He raises his eyebrows at her. “Ah, a beautiful woman in my car and a delicious meal to look forward to. What more can a man ask for?”
Mebel could have sworn that the tips of her ears have burst into flames. She manages to say, “You are too much smooth for your own good,” in a mock stern way.
Alain chuckles and maneuvers the car onto the road. “How are you liking the culinary school?”
“It’s okay. I never really like cooking. Is something I hire people to do.”
Alain throws his head back and laughs, a deep throaty sound that affects Mebel in a very inappropriate way. “Mebel, you are a breath of fresh air.”
“Because I don’t like cooking?”
“Yes.” Alain stops at a red light and turns his full attention to Mebel, making her insides flush. “Being a chef and a restaurant owner, I’m surrounded by people who idolize chefs. All day, every day, I am having to turn down requests for jobs or interviews or an endorsement for their restaurants.”
“Oh,” Mebel says. She ponders this for a moment. “So, you like me because I see you as helper?”
Alain’s roar of laughter fills the car. “Yes, I suppose you could put it that way. I like you because you don’t want anything from me. People always want something from me.”
“Hmm. When you put it like that, I am thinking maybe I should ask for something from you.”
“You can always do that. What would you like, ma chérie?”
The term of affection sends a tingle down Mebel’s spine. “I think about it first. Because I have everything I want already.”Except Henk, she thinks, but unfortunately Henk is not something Alain can give her.
Alain finds a parking lot in the heart of Oxford, and again, he opens the door for Mebel. This time, though, he also holds out his hand for her to take as she steps out of the car.My goodness, she thinks. She could get used to this, she really could. When she wins Henk back, she is going to ask that he does this for her all the time.
The night air is crisp, and there is a slight fogginess hanging low, which makes the city look dreamier, like something out of a fairy tale. Looking around at the antique architecture in the damp light, Mebel almost feels like she is stepping into an oil painting. As they walk, she leans into Alain and tells herself it’s because she needs help to maneuver along the uneven cobblestones in her Louboutins, but she can’t deny how much she enjoys feeling his sturdiness, the knowledge that he is propping her up.
“Here we are,” Alain says as they reach a place that, to Mebel, looks like a literal castle. It even has a high stone wall surrounding it, including slots in the wall, probably for ancient soldiers to shoot arrows through. “This is Pemberton College.”
They step through the large wooden gate and are greeted by a porter. The porter is dressed in an old-fashioned black suit with long coattails, and the look is completed with a tall black hat. “Good evening, sir, madam,” he says, touching the brim of his hat.
“Good evening,” Alain says to the porter. “We are here for a private dinner. I have arranged it with the head of the college.”
“Mr. Alain Moreau?”
“Yes.”
“Why yes, I have your name on the list. Go right in through that door and past the quad, last door to the right.”
“Thank you.”
Mebel looks around as they walk deeper into the college. “What is this place? What is Pemberton College? Are we in Oxford University?”
“Ah, you haven’t been told about the oddities of the Oxbridge system. Oxford and Cambridge universities are divided into multiple colleges. There isn’t actually a college called Oxford, Oxford itself is the collection of colleges. When students apply to the university, they have to choose which college they want to attend. Not all colleges are built equally, some are much harder to get into than others. Pemberton is one of their oldest and most prestigious, so it is very challenging to get a spot in here. Of course, I am biased because this is my alma mater.”
“Oh!” Mebel says, completely taken by surprise. “They have culinary school in Oxford?”
