CHAPTER TWELVE
Date Four: Real Talk with Ralph
Heaven is a corner table with red checked linen in a little wooden restaurant in Switzerland. In front of me is something called a Fitness Plate, a bafflingly inaccurate description of my dinner. When I read those words on the menu, Ralph shot me a knowinglook which dared me to try it. Turns out that was a good move. . . the plate is bigger than my head and on it sits a GIANT potatoröstiand aschnitzelwith both ham and cheese inside. The tiniest corner is taken up with one slice of tomato and a sprig of cress, but this meal remains otherwise untroubled by the concept of five-a-day. If this is fitness in Switzerland, I’m going to move here.
However, as much as I love my food, I have to say that tonight’s main attraction is my dinner date. Ralph has slung his suit jacket over the back of his chair and has this hugely sexy brooding thing going on. It’s like he doesn’t want to give too much of himself away just yet, which obviously means I am desperate to knock down his walls and find out every single detail about him. He keeps leaning back in his chair, all calm and collected as his eyes basically pierce into my soul. It’s unnerving andveryhot at the same time.
‘I’d love to hear what brings you here,’ I say, nibbling on the bit of cress.
‘Well, I’m Swiss,’ he begins slowly, almost languidly. He pushes the bread basket over to me before I’ve even realised that I’m out of bread myself. This guy is gooooooood.
‘I’ve travelled all over with work, and my last hotel was in Japan, but I always knew I’d come home eventually. The spa opening came at exactly the right time.’
Kerpow. Good-looking, worldly and mysterious? Ralph is giving me all the feels right now. He asks me about my job with actual interest and then says, ‘Let’s play a game. Imagine that we don’t need to work. What would you be doing?’
Um, running my fingers along your ridiculously chiselled cheekbones and then maybe just ripping your clothes off for the rest of days?
I clear my throat. ‘Do you mean because we’re retired?’
‘No,’ he laughs, running his hand along his jaw. I try not to gawp. ‘Because we’re filthy rich. We don’t need to earn any money. We’re billionaires.’
‘OhI like this game!’ By now I’ve persuaded Ralph to order a fondue on the side, even though he assured me that fondues aren’t usually considered a side dish, and his eyes meet mine every time he dips some bread in the molten cheese. It’s making focusing extremely difficult so I nudge my chair back a bit and stare off into the middle distance while I think.
‘I can’t tell you mine. . . you have to go first,’ I say eventually.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s LAME.’
‘Well youhaveto tell me now.’
‘Okay fine. I’d still be a photographer. Sure, I’d probably give myself a few weekends off here and there, but I love what I do. Well, I don’t love working for Violet, I’d definitely not do that anymore. But I’ve been taking more pictures for my own portfolio recently and it gives me such a buzz. I’d just focus on that.’
I’m worried that my middle distance trick is starting to make me look rude. I chance a quick look at Ralph. Yep, still delicious.
‘What about you?’
‘I’d like to own my own hotel one day. It would still be long hours so I wouldn’t get much time off, but it’s my passion,’ he replies.
There’s that word again. Al called my passion for photography an ‘attractive quality’ and I guess I’ve never given it much thought in terms of the guys I date. I’ve always looked for a man with some fancy sounding job but thinking back, none of my exes have been passionate about work. They’ve just been in it for the salary. Their alarms would go off at the break of day and they’d look kind of sad, marching into another Monday and for what?To brag about how much they spent on champagne at a nightclub? Ralph may be incredibly cool but the fire in his eyes is new to me, and I like it.
‘Tell me more about Japan,’ I say, closing my eyes as he paints beautiful pictures of cherry blossom and tea ceremonies. His cosmopolitan life is kind of intimidating and when he’s finished I say with a sigh, ‘You’ve travelled so much.’
‘I have, and I still love to travel. But I’m happy to be back at home. I grew up breathing in this air, I miss it when I’m away.’
‘I can’t imagine what it would be like to live somewhere so beautiful.’
‘The place is beautiful, for sure, but I always say that home is more about the people,’ he replies, blinking ever so slowly as he watches me. ‘Family, friends and loved ones.’
My mind turns instantly to my family, to Mum, and I find myself smiling. After a bit more brooding, Ralph has started telling me an adorable story about his gran, who insists on cooking him batches of lentil soup every Sunday with strict instructions not to microwave it because she has a deep mistrust of them. It’s the cutest snippet of his evidently warm family life and I feel strangely excited to be sharing the story with him.
‘Are you close with your parents?’ he asks.
Wellthere’sa question.
‘My mum is my best friend. She’s so brilliant and strong and I feel incredibly grateful to have her in my life.’
‘Is it just the two of you?’
