7. Strawberries
Chapter seven
Strawberries
W e walk to dinner instead of calling the driver to pick us up because, “Sauntering through the streets of Paris is captivating ,” according to Nyari. My feet still hurt but I don’t want to ruin the night for her, she seems to be having a lot of fun.
“It’s almost a straight shot to the restaurant,” she promises when we start our walk.
Twenty minutes later, we are walking through the doors of a glamorous building.
The floors are sage green and cream, which matches most of the decor.
There is warm white LED lighting illuminating all the gold accents and sconces throughout the room.
When we finally sit down, it’s at a booth with seats the same colour as the floor but darker.
The table is an onyx gray, ceramic glass top.
I am thrilled to try more food, but Nyari is flipping through the menu on her own and isn’t as helpful as Eliam had been.
I settled on a starter made of cherry tomatoes, cucumber, plums and peaches, and a main dish which is made of mussels with coconut, corn and lemongrass.
I haven’t tried any of these things yet so I am overjoyed when the food finally comes out.
Nyari and I don’t talk much as we eat, but when we are done with dinner, the waiter isn’t able to finish his question before Nyari blurts out an insanely long dessert order.
“I’ll try some of what you bring for her,” I answer when he asks if I want anything else. “And I’ll take another glass of champagne.”
He walks away with a smile as Nyari chuckles. “I guess you found your macarons.”
“I guess so. I enjoy being, what is it? Tipsy? Drunk?”
“A little bit of both, I think.” Her bubbly laugh makes her face light up and it makes me laugh too.
“Whichever it is. I think champagne in Paris is my favourite thing!” The waiter is already delivering my effervescent drink with Nyari’s desserts, and he smiles at my declaration.
“This one is a reverse puff pastry with a double-vanilla ice cream and caramel.” He slides the first plate directly between the two of us. “And this is cocoa shortbread with banana and vanilla confit, caramelized peanuts and hazelnut espuma. ”
After the first two desserts, he makes room on the table for the rest of our order.
We have a panna cotta with berries, yuzu jelly, cloud of faisselle and almond shortbread.
He lets us know that the last of the order is his favourite dish, before setting down the crunchy choux filled with white chocolate cream and topped with toasted coconut ganache.
He hands us each a fork and tells us to enjoy.
By the time Nyari and I are done, we’re brimming with giggly energy as we make our way to the car. It’s the same driver as before, and there’s a small grin on his face when he opens the door for us. I let Nyari get in first. I’m halfway inside when a voice coming from the restaurant makes me pause.
“You forgot your to-go box!” His eyes are glazed over as he enthusiastically shoves the box at me, and I feel my brows furrow at his actions.
“We didn’t have a to-go box—” I start to say when he cuts me off by telling me that he hopes I enjoy the things I didn’t get to try. The corners of his mouth turn upwards and he spins around and walks away.
I cradle the small box and climb into the car, waving it directly in front of Nyari’s face after I’m safely in.
“Don’t keep me waiting. Open it!” She scoots forward to make sure she is as close to it as possible.
“Would you calm down? It’s just dessert.”
“They’re free desserts!” Nyari looks giddy at the thought, so I quickly open the container as we drive off .
I haven’t gotten the lid fully open when her little nebula fingers brush past my hand to grab something sprinkled with sugar.
“Aren’t you full?” I turn to look at her as she takes a huge bite out of something I don’t recognize.
“Mmhmm. Look, he gave you his number.” She’s talking through a mouth full of sweet stuff and shimmying her shoulders.
“His number?”
“Uh huh. He wrote it on the lid.”
I glance at the box and sure enough, the waiter has left a number scribbled at the bottom.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Human customs are very different to ours in more ways than one.
“He wants you to call him, to ask you out on a date.” Nyari’s eyes are closed now as she savours the sugary experience.
“He doesn’t know me.” I run my fingers across the number though I can only feel the texture of the box.
“Well, that’s the point, Leeahla. Duh.” I somehow miss her movements because she is handing me a champagne flute, and I hadn’t realized she’d opened the mini bar.
“We’re soon back at the hotel, so you’re going to have to drink this quickly or all at once.
” She winks, taking giant gulps of her own which causes her to burp cosmic dust .
I drink as quickly as I can. The constant rush of bubbles is making my ears tingle. “And what was with his eyes? Is that normal?”
“His eyes? Oh yeah, the glazed-over effect. It happens when humans get enamored by stars. Spend enough time with him and he’d do whatever you wanted without question.” She tries plucking another treat from the box and I shut the lid so swiftly it hit her fingers.
“You have a sugar problem, Ny,” I chuckle softly. “Now, tell me more about this ‘enamored by stars’ thing.’”
She starts explaining as we are pulling up to the front of the hotel. The driver parks and opens the door before I stumble out. Nyari follows behind me, nearly tripping as she exits.
“Glad the two of you had a good night,” the driver says softly as he walks back to the driver side of the car. I wave at him before I head in.
It’s late but I am buzzing with restlessness; Nyari is nowhere to be seen, so I roam around, slowly making my way back to the suite.
Once I’m back in my room, I spend some time getting acquainted with the contents of the closet and when my eyes land on a stunning black swimsuit, I decide to go to the pool.
It’s a halter with an underwire cut-out; the back is tied in a crisscross pattern, but the string is long enough that I don’t need any help to tie it.
There was a singular, thick band running across the mid-section of my breasts, creating small peek-a-boo windows at both the top and bottom.
The bottom piece is a cheeky panty that ties on each side.
When I enter the pool area, there is a woman who greets me with a welcoming, “Spa or pool?”
“The pool. Is it still open?” I fiddle with the belt of the robe I’ve shrugged on.
“It’s twenty-four hours for suite members. Follow me.” She leads me into a giant cream and white room.
We walk down marble steps which are framed with gun metal railings.
On the left side of the room, there is a giant pool with a small waterfall at the top and a hot tub with bubbles overflowing aggressively at the bottom.
White day beds line the wall on the right side; each one has a little hood, a number of throw pillows and neatly folded towels.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Yes, actually. Can I have a bottle of champagne and a plate of strawberries?” I claim the bed in front of the hot tub and step out of my robe.
“I’ll send someone over as soon as possible. Enjoy.” She smiles before returning to her post.