Chapter 123
When I stepped out of the car, I looked up and we were at Bouley Restaurant, one of the best French restaurants in New York. Logan tucked my hand into his arm and smiled as he took in my reaction. "Have you ever been here before?"
I shook my head. "No. Never."
He leaned close and said conspiratorially, "Neither have I."
We both laughed as we walked in together. "Well, I'm glad I have one of your firsts," I said without thinking. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
He laughed. "Why not? If not anything else, we've always been able to talk."
Among other things, I thought to myself as I nodded. But I quickly pushed the thought aside.
"Don't ever hold anything back from me," he said in a low voice as we approached the ma?tre d.
Even the foyer was opulent, with fine furnishings for guests waiting for a table. But one didn't go to Bouley without a reservation.
"The name, sir?" the gentleman asked.
"Logan Ambrose."
The ma?tre d's face suddenly lit up. "Right this way, sir," he said, nodding to a gentleman standing discreetly off to the side, and then turned back to us and smiled. "Have a wonderful evening."
"Thank you," Logan said, and I nodded my thanks.
"Right this way," the gentleman said, and walked through the restaurant, expecting us to follow. The room was beautifully decorated with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and tables with elegant white tablecloths and flowers. Surprisingly, we came to an elevator and Logan and I stepped to the back while the man remained by the door.
"What did you do?" I whispered, suddenly feeling like the young girl when Logan and I had been together years ago. I didn't realize how long my heart had remained dormant until just now. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt alive. I hadn't realized it before this moment, but a part of me had died when I thought Logan had. But I forced the thought of that dark time aside and smiled as I looked into his eyes.
He shrugged as he smiled innocently, enjoying my reaction.
A moment later, the door slid open and we stepped out into a private dining experience.
Logan placed his hand on the small of my back as we followed the gentleman to a room that resembled the private dining room of an expensive mansion. A rose-colored glass chandelier hung from the ceiling over a table with fine china, artfully arranged. There were only two place settings on the marble table. He pulled back one of the purple, suede chairs for me and I sat down.
"May I start you off with a nice wine?" the gentleman asked.
Logan looked over at me, and I nodded. Then, he turned back to the waiter. "Dom Perignon, please."
The gentleman smiled, and then disappeared behind a rose-colored drape, leaving us alone.
Logan sat across from me and smiled. "Well, what do you think?" he asked as he folded his hands on the table before him.
"Words escape me, Logan," I said, my eyes wide. "This is lovely and very unexpected."
He smiled, enjoying my reaction. "Well, the best is yet to come."
I returned the smile and two gentlemen returned-one with long-stemmed glasses that he placed before us, and the other with a champagne cooler filled with ice and a bottle sitting inside. He set it on the floor beside the table, and then lit a single candle that was sitting on the end. "The chef will be with you momentarily."
"Thank you," Logan replied. The gentleman nodded discreetly, and then disappeared behind the curtain. When we were alone, Logan looked at me and smiled. "You look lovely tonight."
I smiled as a blush rushed my cheeks. "Thank you. You look great."
A moment later, the chef came to our table. "Good evening," he said in a heavy French accent. "I am Chef Frans, at your service this evening. What would you like for your main entrée?" Then, he went through the dinner choices off the top of his head.
Logan looked over at me and nodded, urging me to order first.
"I'd like the Maine Lobster," I said, smiling as I folded my hands on my lap.
"Make it two," Logan replied to the chef, and then gave me a heartbreaking smile.
"Good choice!" Chef Frans replied. "Would you like to join me in the kitchen? I could show you how your dinner and the rest of your courses are prepared."
I looked at Logan, my eyes wide, and he nodded. "Yes. That would be fabulous." When I started to rise from the table, the chef held my chair.
Logan extended his arm to me, and we followed the chef.
In the kitchen, everyone was hard at work, preparing the meals of their guests as pans clanked and people gave orders in both English and French. Chef Frans stopped at a counter and pointed to two stools. "You both may sit here and watch."
Logan slid his hand into mine as we sat down at the counter and watched the chef prepare our meal, as well as the other hors d'oeuvres and courses. It was amazing to watch him in action as he sautéed mushrooms in a pan and expertly flipped them into the air, explaining everything that he was doing and why. It was truly an amazing experience, reminding me of sitting at the counter watching my mother cook at home when I was young, but on a much higher level.
Soon, the same waiter that led us to our table appeared discreetly behind us, folding his arms behind him as he waited.
"I hope you understand if I do not escort you back to your table myself, but I must attend to your meal," he said in his heavy French accent as he smiled. Then, he took my hands and kissed them both. "It was truly a pleasure to meet you both. Michael will escort you back to your seats." He indicated the waiter behind us. "Enjoy your wine and I shall have your meal to your table momentarily."
I nodded. "Thank you, sir. It was truly a pleasure
"The pleasure, my dear, was mine," he said, smiling as he looked kindly into my eyes.
"Thank you," Logan said as he placed his hand on the small of my back.
The chef nodded. "Enjoy your meal," he said as he gave Logan a kind smile and then went back to preparing our meal.
