Chapter 11 #3
“And the third guy was part of a tech company that relocated their headquarters and all their employees to Rebel,” she goes on.
“They got a big tax break because they brought people to town which helped our local economy and they were able to give their employees a quieter, more affordable lifestyle. They invested in building houses, a couple of restaurants, even some things like a spa salon and a golf course. They seemed so excited, but it only lasted two years. Their employees didn’t fit in at all and didn’t like it here long-term, so they moved the company back to Tennessee.
Including my boyfriend who was a Vice-President. It was a mess.”
Yeah, I’m…just like all of those guys.
I left my home country for bigger and better things.
Just like Sean Patrick did. I’m here in Rebel now to help build something, but I don’t fit in.
At least, unlike the second guy, I already know that Rebel is not going to be a long-term thing for me.
But I’m sure Nora sees pieces of all of her boyfriends in me pretty clearly.
“Wow,” I finally say.
“Yeah, not dating seems like a good choice.”
I shake my head. “You’re going to have to get really good at saying no.” I glance over. “I imagine you’ll be asked out a lot no matter what.”
She smiles. “A lot of people in town try to set me up with guys they know.”
That doesn’t surprise me a bit.
We arrive at the restaurant a few minutes later.
Driving through the French Quarter is not for the faint of heart, but my GPS is, thankfully, very helpful and we find parking on the street just a block from the restaurant.
The evening is pleasant so the walk is easy and we arrive exactly on time for our reservation.
Nora is smoothing the front of her dress again as we approach the tall wooden french doors in the old stone building on the corner.
I grab her hand, again entwining our fingers.
I love the feel of her hand in mine. Her skin is soft but she has a few calluses on her palm which is a surprise.
But this woman is always busy with her hands and clearly isn’t shy about getting into the dirt—or probably paint, drywall paste, or otter dung—if needed.
She was covered in mud from picking flowers when I met her, after all.
“Relax,” I tell her. “You look beautiful.”
She smiles up at me. “Thank you.”
I usher her through the door into the restaurant.
It’s small, maybe twenty white linen tablecloth covered tables in total, with a light wood bar to our right and multiple tall, thin windows all along the wall to our left.
There are softly lit sconces spaced out along the brick walls and each table has a center glimmering candle giving the room a golden glow. The floor is polished wood, the ceiling soars high overhead, and the air is filled with a tantalizing combination of Italian spices.
“Oh my gosh, this is gorgeous,” Nora says in a hushed voice, looking around.
“Welcome,” the hostess greets us warmly.
I give her my name and she escorts us to one of the small tables near a window.
A server arrives within a minute, bringing water, a bread basket, and menus. He also sets the wine list in the center of the table. “I’ll return soon,” he promises.
Nora is still looking around, taking in all the details of the restaurant.
It’s just getting dark outside and the lanterns on the poles along the street come on.
A car drives by, followed by a horse-drawn carriage.
There are people sitting at tiny bistro tables along the sidewalk, laughing and talking.
She turns her gaze back to mine, a smile on her lips. “This place is so pretty. And oh my God, it smells good,” she says enthusiastically, looking down at the menu.
“I’m so glad you like it.” I point to the silverware next to her empty wine glass. “And only two forks.”
She laughs. “I feel better already.”
Fuck, she’s beautiful. And I love her laugh. And I love bringing her to a place like this. I love that things like tablecloths and extra forks are an adventure for her.
I’ve never dated a woman who would have been so obviously enchanted by a restaurant, and I find myself wondering what Nora would think about a chartered flight to the Amalfi Coast in Italy where we could have truly authentic Italian food.
Maybe she shouldn’t date. None of the guys in Rebel are going to take her to Italy. Or even rack their brains trying to figure out the next best way to make her look like she does right now.
I actually have no idea if that’s true, but that should be her standard. Not if he wants to settle down in Rebel, but if his primary goal in life is making her eyes light up with pleasure.
What about Cara? I’ll bet she’d love Cara. I could take her there.
I could. Easily. Tomorrow.
My home country is a gorgeous, remote island. It’s not tropical, for sure. It’s windswept. The rocky soil, climate, and year-round cool-ish temperatures keep us from being able to even grow many trees. But we have amazing blue water on all sides, gorgeous cliffs, and incredible waterfalls.
And great people who truly feel that I’m a hero.
I, along with Astrid, put our country on the map.
Before Astrid became an Olympic contender and I joined the Grays, no one outside of our country and a few students in class in Ireland and Denmark—the two countries that settled the island and still have friendly diplomatic ties to us—had even heard of the independent island at the southern end of the Danish-governed Faroe Islands.
Now nearly everyone in the sports world at least knows what and where Cara is.
I do really love it there. There are definitely no jars filled with money contending I’m worse than Brussels sprouts or raisin cookies or stubbing your toe on the end of the bed first thing in the morning or whatever the fuck else Bruce is going to come up with.
“Good evening. I’m Enzo,” a man dressed in a white dress shirt, burgundy tie, and black pants says. “I will have the pleasure of serving you tonight.”
“Hello, Enzo,” Nora says. “We’re so happy to be here tonight.”
He smiles, clearly charmed by her reaction. “Can I start you with some wine? Or answer any questions about the menu?”
“Do you like wine?” I ask Nora.
She shakes her head. “I’m more about lattes and mixed cocktails.”
I chuckle and say to Enzo, “I’d like a Barolo. And maybe something sweeter and lighter for you?” I ask Nora. “A moscato?”
She lifts a shoulder. “I trust you.”
Oh, I like that too. She means with the wine, but I like even that much. I want to treat her. I want to spoil her. I want to show her so many delicious, extravagant things and if she’ll let me lead the way, we can have a lot of fun.
I nod at the server, “Let’s do that and we’ll start with the small cheese plate.”
“Excellent,” he agrees.
“What is your favorite dish here?” Nora asks him. “I’m sure it’s all amazing.”
He smiles and gives a single nod. “It is. I like several dishes, but the pumpkin ravioli is truly amazing.”
She sighs happily, looking down at the menu. “That sounds so good.”
He gives me a smile that clearly says, she’s lovely and I can only nod.
“I want one of everything,” she says. “And every appetizer and dessert…” She trails off, her head coming up, her eyes wide. “Alex.”
“What?”
She leans in. “That cheese plate you ordered is sixty-nine dollars,” she hisses.
I chuckle. “It’s not. That’s the large plate. We’re getting the small.”
She looks down again, but then says, “That one's still thirty-six.”
I grin. Yes, spoiling this woman will be fun. I’m running a tab at Bruce’s with the one-hundred-dollar limit, but now that I’ve checked out his menu more carefully, it’s going to take me a while to hit that limit.
The food is simple and inexpensive. It’s also delicious. But I could eat three meals there for thirty-six dollars and still get change back.
“The cheese will be worth it,” I tell her.
“Thirty-six-dollar cheese?” she asks.
I laugh. “They’ll bring crackers too.”
She shakes her head. “Bruce is going to roll his eyes so hard he’ll get a headache.”
“Nora.” I wait until she looks up at me. “Get whatever you want. And I mean that. Get two things if you want to try them. We can take the extras with us and let Bruce try them too.”
She starts to respond, I’m sure with a protest, but I reach out and hook her index finger with mine. “Please,” I say. “I can absolutely afford it, and I want to treat you. Seeing how much you’re already enjoying this makes me happy.”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it. A few emotions flit over her face and I have to know what she’s thinking.
I wiggle her finger with mine. “What?”
“I was just…” She shakes her head. “It’s silly.”
“So what? What were you thinking just now?”
“Just that…” She swallows. “I know what you mean. When you said that watching me enjoy this makes you happy. That’s how I feel about all the events and things I put together.
I love watching other people try new things or do something that makes them really happy.
And I realized that…I haven’t had someone do that for me in a long time.
” She bites her bottom lip, then continues.
“It’s not that I need that. I enjoy the events and clubs I organize too, but it is fun having someone else have the knowledge and all the details put together and I can just enjoy it.
” She shakes her head. “I know it’s just dinner. I know that sounds silly.”
Someone has sucked a bunch of oxygen out of this room.
Nora can even be delighted by a meal.
She puts together festivals and events and clubs for other people all the time. She’s working to bring an entirely new form of hockey—one that most people, including the players, don’t really understand—to the town to entertain everyone. She wants people to have fun and be delighted.
And all it takes to light her up is to shell out a stupid amount of money for cheese.
Jesus. She’s…unexpected. And I want to spend all my time figuring out other ways to make her eyes brighten and her smile widen.
I pull in some of the remaining air and say, “Nora, I think that’s the best thing I’ve heard in a very long time and it makes me want to buy you four grande cheese plates.”
She laughs. “I like cheese. A lot. But that’s probably overkill. I really might let you buy me two desserts, though.”
Fuck, I’ll buy this whole damned restaurant.
Enzo returns with our wines, and the cheese plate, and Nora’s eyes widen and yes, light up, when she sees the beautiful presentation of the variety of cheese, crackers, honey, grapes, and dried cherries and apricots.
My chest warms even as a knot tightens much lower in my gut.
I want her.
And I’ve known her for two days.