Chapter 75
As they concluded their discussion on passion and romance within the confines of their car, they returned home to discover romance had been patiently awaiting their arrival.
The floor was a sea of rose petals, the table was elegantly set with a steak dinner, wine, and flowers, and the room was awash with the soothing strains of romantic music and the intoxicating scent of perfume. The ambiance was a symphony of romance and taste.
Maggie turned to Fiorello, her eyes wide with surprise. "Did you arrange all of this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. No woman could resist the allure of such romance.
Fiorello, however, quickly pieced together the puzzle. The incessant calls from Eleanor urging them to return home now made sense. It was she who had orchestrated this surprise.
"Our aunt arranged it," Fiorello confessed, his voice carrying a hint of regret.
A wave of disappointment washed over Maggie. "I thought it was you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She had genuinely believed Fiorello had finally understood the language of romance.
The steak on the table was still steaming, a clear indication it had been cooked recently.
"Are you hungry? Shall we eat first?" Fiorello asked, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of reluctance.
Maggie, her stomach growling in agreement, nodded. The steak and foie gras were too tempting to resist.
The room was carpeted with rose petals, prompting Maggie to change into slippers to avoid crushing them. She treaded carefully towards the dining table, her eyes never leaving the beautifully set table.
Meanwhile, Eleanor, who had been stealthily observing them through a crack in the door, wore a triumphant smile. The sight of the couple entering the house filled her heart with joy and hope for a grandchild.
In her mind, she had already begun planning their wedding. The CEO of the Flores family couldn't possibly have a quiet wedding. It demanded grandeur and celebration.
The thought excited Eleanor, prompting her to call Holden and share her plans for Fiorello's wedding.
Holden, taken aback, asked, "Mom, are you in a rush?"
"What's the rush? Planning a wedding is complicated, you have to prepare in advance. Are you really going to wait until the last minute to prepare?" she retorted.
"Why don't you talk to Fiorello about it?" Holden suggested. "He seems quite content with his life right now."
"That doesn't conflict with what I'm doing. I'll prepare in advance, just in case it comes in handy. That's called being prepared," she replied, her voice firm.
Holden, knowing better than to argue with Eleanor, simply agreed and let her be.
...
Maggie, despite her best efforts, struggled with cutting her steak. Fiorello, noticing her struggle, offered, "Let me do it."
He moved her plate towards him and proceeded to cut the steak with an elegance and nobility that was inherent to him. Watching him cut the steak was a feast for the eyes.
They say beauty is irresistible, and that was certainly true for someone like Fiorello.
Maggie, her curiosity piqued, asked, "Fiorello, have you studied etiquette?"
"I attend social events often, so I learned over time," Fiorello replied, handing the cut steak back to Maggie.
As she savored her steak, Maggie remembered something. "By the way, I've already sorted out the expenses for this month. Excluding the money for the car, we've spent two thousand dollars on living expenses this month, and there's still..."
She pulled out her phone, opened her expense tracking app, and showed it to Fiorello.
Fiorello glanced at it briefly and said, "The money is with you. Spend it as you see fit. I trust you."
Recently wedded, Maggie found herself reluctant to ask Fiorello for money. Even when her own resources dwindled, she hesitated to use the bank card he had generously provided.
There was a sense of restraint between them, a certain politeness that persisted despite their marital status. They had yet to achieve a level of complete openness and comfort.
Maggie gave a slight nod of her head in agreement.
Fiorello, noticing her quietude, reached for the bottle of red wine resting on the table. "Would you care for a drink?" he offered, holding the bottle aloft.
With a discerning eye, Fiorello recognized the wine as one from the family's private collection, a selection made by Eleanor. It was a wine known for its robust flavor and lingering aftertaste.
Maggie considered declining, aware of her low tolerance for alcohol and the potential for complications it could bring. However, the ambiance of the evening persuaded her otherwise. "Just half a glass," she conceded.
A half glass, she reasoned, would not be enough to impair her.
Fiorello had no intention of getting Maggie drunk either. He knew that the pairing of foie gras with red wine would only serve to enhance the overall dining experience.
Pouring her the requested half glass, he raised his own in a toast. "To our one-month wedding anniversary," he declared.
Maggie was taken aback, realizing that indeed, a month had already passed since their wedding. "Cheers," she responded, lifting her glass to meet his. The sound of their glasses clinking together echoed in the room, the orange candlelight reflecting off the glass and casting a warm, inviting glow on their faces. The atmosphere was intimate, almost seductive.
Taking a tentative sip, Maggie was pleasantly surprised. "This is delicious! It's completely different from what I'm used to. It's so smooth and not at all bitter," she exclaimed.
In the past, Maggie had only ever indulged in cheap table wine from the supermarket. This was a far cry from the rare, exquisite wine Eleanor had procured.
Unable to resist, she took a few more sips of the delightful wine.
Fiorello's lips curled into a slight smile. "If you like it, I'll have our aunt bring over more bottles later."
"Oh, that's not necessary..." Maggie began, but Fiorello was quick to reassure her.
"Our aunt runs a business selling red wine. It's just a few bottles, nothing valuable."
"Oh, I see." Convinced, Maggie finished her glass and requested another, her smile broadening.
"Of course." Fiorello poured her another glass, encouraging her to try the foie gras. "The taste will be completely different," he promised.
The foie gras, flown in especially for the occasion, was the freshest available. Paired with the red wine, it was a culinary delight.
Maggie eagerly sampled the foie gras, her eyes lighting up in delight. "It's so delicious!"
Fiorello nodded, explaining the art of pairing food and wine. "Different dishes pair with different types of wine. The taste is always different."
"You know a lot," Maggie chuckled, "Is it just like beer and barbecue are a perfect match?"
"Yes," Fiorello agreed, his laughter joining hers. The flickering candlelight and the red wine had painted Maggie's lips a tempting shade of red. He noticed her flushed cheeks, a clear indication of her low tolerance for alcohol.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he added, "And just like you and me."
Maggie's response was delayed, her gaze slightly unfocused as she looked at him.
Her flirtatious eyes were irresistible.
"No more drinking," Fiorello decided, reaching out to take Maggie's hand. He knew that if she continued to drink, the evening could take an unexpected turn.
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