15. Carter
CHAPTER 15
CARTER
I left work and headed to Effervesce to go pick up Megyn, knowing I’d get there too early. I was too nervous to keep sitting around in my office, though. My stomach felt like it was on fire, burning with all my different anxieties. I really didn’t want to mess this up. Now that I had found Cinderella, I had no interest in meeting up with any other woman at all. Megyn was who had so captivated me. Megyn was the one who made my heart skip beats when I saw her. No one else could fill the place she occupied.
After she was gone, I still doubted anyone would be able to hold a candle to her. And that was if this date turned out to be our only one, which I hoped it wouldn’t be.
Maybe she wouldn’t even show up. I’d go there and wait and she’d never come, and I’d end up as the only billionaire in the history of NYC to get stood up.
My stomach cramped, acidic heat lancing up the back of my throat. I coughed and cleared my throat, rubbed my chest. The last thing I needed was to work myself up so much I got an ulcer.
I pulled up in front of Effervesce and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Early autumn sunset had all but claimed every scrap of blue in the sky, red and gold flames darkening to smoke and charcoal. I breathed in the warm air, tasted car exhaust with a hint of coffee bean.
I couldn’t delay any longer.
I stepped through the door and looked around. Megyn caught my eye right away, a magnetic tug that yanked me closer and closer. She had her hair up in that simple bun and had left off her glasses. As if I had needed any further proof she was Cinderella, here it was. Here she was, regal and enchanting, as if she really had stepped straight from the pages of a storybook.
“Megyn,” I said, holding out my hand. First-date handshakes were never not awkward, but I didn’t want to invade her space.
Megyn looked down at my hand and laughed a little bit. She ducked her head, then tilted her chin and peered up at me with her sweet brown eyes. “I’d rather hug.”
I held out my other hand, arms up a bit, feeling foolish and knowing I was, and being okay with it all at once. Maybe if I showed her I was more than a billionaire, more than a silly guy who stomped on her foot at a party, she’d start to come out of her shell. If she was this beautiful now, I could only imagine.
Megyn stepped closer to me and lifted her arms to wrap them around my shoulders. I closed my arms around her back and pulled her to my chest. She smelled warm, smelled of lavender, and her hair lay soft on my cheek.
I held her for as long as I dared before letting go of her. “If I’d known you were going to be even earlier than me, I would have left sooner.”
Megyn blushed and shifted on her feet. She wore a dress a bit too big for her, one strap slipping down off her shoulder; the hemline reached her ankles, concealed her shoes from sight. I had no doubt they would be blue Converse. “I’m a little bit nervous,” she admitted.
“Oh, so am I. You’re not alone in that.”
Megyn stared at me as if I’d told her I’d been abducted by aliens.
“What?” I frowned.
“I can’t believe that someone like you ever gets nervous about anything,” she said.
“Someone like me?” I touched her arm, laughing. “Does having money mean I no longer have feelings?”
Megyn blushed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m only teasing you.” I brushed my fingers over her soft pink cheek. “I’m used to being nervous. Like anyone else, I don’t want something to fail. I’ve just had more practice managing it. You’re younger and still learning.”
“I don’t feel young.”
“Let me fix that,” I said, my heart going out to her. “Let’s have a fun night together. No worrying about anything. Just a prince and a princess having a good time. Okay?”
Megyn regarded me with an expression that almost broke my soul. She looked so tired, so worn down, and yet so hopeful. She wanted to believe. I hoped she would.
At last, her lips trembling, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Then let’s go.” I held my hand out for hers. This time, she took it, curling her fingers between mine.
I walked with her out to my car and opened the door for her. “Thank you,” she murmured. She smoothed her dress underneath her as she sat.
I made sure I wasn’t going to catch her dress in the door and shut it for her. Coming around to the driver’s side, feeling her watching me the entire time, I climbed in and started driving, taking us to the restaurant I had in mind; the staff hadn’t wanted to accept my last-minute reservation until I told them who I was.
Megyn didn’t seem inclined to making conversation. I considered making a few safe comments on the weather and compliments for her dress, but decided against it. She deserved better than some half-brained platitudes blurted out while I drove. She deserved to have my full focus upon her when we talked.
We arrived at the restaurant, the Lonely Whale. I found us a spot around the back, thankfully away from the dumpsters, and hopped out. Megyn opened her own door and came to join me, sliding her hand in mine. She peered up at the tall, aquamarine building, shading her eyes from the bright pole lights.
“Is this an aquarium?” she asked.
“Of sorts,” I laughed. I tugged gently on her hand to get her to come along with me. “Come inside and find out for yourself.”
Megyn trailed along behind me, staying so close that her hip brushed against mine.
We entered the restaurant, coming into a front foyer area as wide as the whole building, lined with blue-green chairs the same color of the exterior walls. A massive painting the exact size of a humpback whale looked down upon the waiting patrons, depicting that same majestic creature in deep underwater blues. Dapples of light painted its dorsal side. Its small, shining eye held a depth of strange otherworldly wisdom.
Megyn clutched at me, her chest heaving. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed. “It looks like it could just swim right off the canvas.”
“It is amazing, isn’t it?” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “I’m responsible for that.”
“You?”
“I didn’t paint it,” I said. “But I found the young man who did. He was living on the street at the time. Made a killing off this commission. Now he sells his work to aquariums in several countries.”
Megyn again gave me that look that said she couldn’t believe me.
I cleared my throat. “Come on.”
I led her over to the host, a broad young man who looked as if he could be a fisherman. If seawater could run through veins, then he would be, since it was his seaman grandfather who first opened the restaurant more than half a century ago.
“Mr. Bryant!” he greeted me.
I smiled at him. “Jim. Megyn, this is Jim Bergman, the co-manager of the Lonely Whale. The other manager would be his father.”
“You have a reservation with us tonight, don’t you, Mr. Bryant?”
“I do.”
Jim checked the book to confirm, though he probably would have let me in even if I hadn’t gone through the pains of making a reservation. “Here you are. I’ll take you to your table. Right this way, sir.”
Jim took us past the foyer, down a short hall into the restaurant proper. Megyn gasped out loud, so hard I almost thought she was having a heart attack. She grabbed my arm, wrapping hers around me.
I still had that reaction, that surge of awe and disbelief.
Lonely Whale was three stories, connected by a spiraling staircase. In the center of the building was a towering aquarium tank, around which the floors wrapped, meaning that no matter where a person sat, they had a close view of a variety of tropical fish, ducking and darting in and out of beds of seagrass and brainy coral protrusions. Eels dwelled in the dark shadows between rocks, and harmless, small sharks drifted back and forth from one side of the aquarium to the other.
“There’s a turtle in there somewhere,” I told Megyn. “I’ve only seen him twice. He has little patience for humans.”
Megyn pushed her hands through her hair, tangling them in her bun. “How is this… How is this even possible?”
Jim smiled at her from where he stood waiting for us, hands behind his back. He glowed with pride. “Follow me and I’ll tell you.”
Jim took us to the stairs and we climbed, and he talked.
“The aquarium is actually several smaller aquariums of different sizes, stacked on top of each other. This prevents the fish who don’t like each other from coming into contact.” Jim waved his hand at the tower of water. “Our aquarium is fully functional. We have monthly inspections. All of the equipment and pressurized feeding tubes are artfully hidden so you can have a view unobstructed by nasty pipes and filters.”
We reached the second floor.
“You don’t eat the fish, do you?” Megyn whispered.
Jim laughed. “No. They’d taste terrible. These are not food fish. All our fresh ingredients come straight from the ocean itself. Ask your server to tell you about the chef’s special.”
Megyn looked like she might pass out from what could only be described as culture shock. Whoever she was, whatever life she led, this was an experience unfamiliar to her, though I didn’t know what part was the mystery. The aquarium? The expense that must go into maintaining such a restaurant?
Jim brought us to our table, right in front of one of the aquarium walls, where vibrant yellow and orange coral teemed with colorful small fish. Despite the apparent thickness of the aquarium glass, a faint tinge of seawater perfumed the air.
Jim pulled out our chairs for us. “Please, stay as long as you like. It’s always good to have new customers. Ask for me if you need anything. Your server will be along shortly.”
Megyn sat down and scooted in until her stomach touched the table. Leaning over, she whispered, “What the hell? Am I dreaming? Why is a co-manager playing host? What’s up with the chef’s special?”
I put my hands on the table, palms up. “Give me your hands,” I instructed.
Megyn stared at me.
“Hands,” I repeated.
She put her hands in mine, albeit reluctantly.
I held her hands, stroking her with my fingers. “Just relax. You aren’t dreaming. Jim and his father always take some time out of their day to go up front and see their customers. And the chef’s special is what happens whenever Jim or his dad goes out and catches fish themselves.”
She didn’t say anything in response, still presumably in shock.
“Jim’s grandfather opened up this restaurant to sell what he made from the sea. This place used to be a shack. Naturally, it’s grown since then.”
“This is insane,” she said.
“It is. But isn’t it beautiful?”
Megyn swiveled in her chair to look at the aquarium tower. “It is. No doubt about that.”
Our server arrived just then and got us set up with drinks and an appetizer. Only then did Megyn really start to relax, no doubt glad to have something to occupy her time.
I speared up a buttered scallop and transferred it from the sample platter to my appetizer plate. “You know,” I said, “you are the only person I met at the party that I could even think about.”
“I had a great time, too,” she said, blushing.
She was so cute when she blushed. An urge came upon me suddenly, to kiss her until she forgot all about her embarrassment.
“I want to get to know you more,” I said.
“Do you think I’m going to be your wife?”
I sputtered, almost choking on my scallop. I washed the lump of succulent meat down with a gulp of wine. Megyn watched the whole time, and I felt like she was judging me even though no judgment showed on her face.
I managed to get ahold of myself. “I am serious about finding a woman to be my wife. I want more out of this life, someone to love and cherish and care for, someone who will show me light in the darkness. Do I expect you to be my wife? I think it’s all a little too early for that. I don’t know if that’s even something you would want.”
Megyn toyed with a piece of shrimp, tearing the breading off in chunks using the tip of her knife. She was unconvinced, uncertain of my intentions.
“I have no plans to break out a ring to propose to you tonight,” I said.
She giggled. “Well, that’s good.”
I smiled at her warmly. “Right now, all I know is you’re someone I’m very interested in and I wanted to have dinner with you. I don’t want to make anything else out of this.”
“Maggie always tells me I need to make a life for myself,” Megyn murmured, almost to herself. “Go all in.”
“Maggie is right about that.” I tilted my head. “Everyone deserves happiness, don’t you think?”
“What even is happiness?”
I held up my hands. “I wish I could give you an answer, but I am most definitely not a philosopher.”
“No,” she agreed. “You’re something way more special than that.”
“How about we only ask questions that have easy answers, tonight?” I suggested.
Megyn smiled. “Okay.”
“Tell me about your family.”