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As I start to think of date ideas, I recall what I know of Elle and a comment she made when we met up at Ce Soir before our second hook-up pops into my head. Elle is a self-proclaimed chocolate addict. I smile, the perfect idea forming in my head.
One of the people at our recent brunch meeting mentioned a private, invite-only, gourmet chocolate demonstration downtown. It’s part of an annual gastronomic festival where all proceeds go to feed hungry children across the world.
I looked it up after the meeting because I went to school with a guy who had become a fairly famous master chocolatier in France. I had wondered if he might be attending the event.
And he was.
Jaques Dupont would be doing a demonstration of one of his most famous chocolate truffle recipes, along with several other chocolatiers and patissiers doing presentations of their own. The samples at the event alone would be worth using my status to get us in, but knowing the star of the show and convincing him to give Elle a personal demo? She’d love it.
I’m sitting on the bed shirtless, in nothing but a pair of jogging pants, finishing my conversation with Jaques, when breakfast arrives. Instead of calling out for them to leave it outside the door like I usually do, I let them in.
“Thanks again, Jaques, you’ll be making my girl very happy. See you tonight.”
The bellhop looks like he’s barely in his twenties, with hair that falls into his eyes, and a face that’s a little awestruck. He’s either a fan of international hockey or he knows I’m royalty, or hell, maybe it’s not awe on his face. He could be scared shitless of me because I’ve earned a name around this hotel. I’ve overheard some of the staff referring to me as Prince Dickhead Supreme. It doesn’t even piss me off, because I deserve it. Rex earned respect, I earn malevolence.
It’s time that changes.
Pressing a bill into the kid’s hand, I uncover the domes of food, inspecting the mouthwatering meal. My stomach growls in anticipation. “What’s your name, kid?”
“B-Brandon… your majesty.”
The title makes my stomach churn and I glance toward the open bathroom door, the effects of last night still fresh. “Brandon, do me a favor and call me Dan.” I look at him and add, “Please.”
The kid's eyes nearly bug out of his head. He nods, a short jerky motion, and manages to stutter, “Yes, Sir… uh… Dan.”
“I need some assistance. Will you help me?”
“Sure, I’d be glad to.” The kid perks up.
Pouring myself a coffee, I offer him one, breathing in the aroma as if it’s the nectar of life. He shakes his head and I shrug, scooping a forkful of the cheesy egg concoction into my mouth.
“I want to impress a woman, Brandon. I need to take her somewhere spectacular, show her I’m not a complete dick, while also giving her the kind of date she deserves.” I shove my damp hair back and take another gulp of coffee. “I don’t know the city very well. Do you?”
“I’ve lived here my whole life…” He pauses as if my name is stuck on his tongue. “Dan.”
“Excellent.” I grab a slice of crisp bacon and shove it into my mouth, the greasy meat exactly what my stomach needs.
“Money is no object, and I’m connected so I can probably get in anywhere. Where would you take someone special to dinner under those circumstances?”
Brandon blows out a breath, his bangs fluttering back, and finally relaxes. “Can I sit?”
I wave to an open chair by the desk. “Please.”
He picks up one of the complimentary notepads and pens and starts to write, occasionally looking up things on his phone, while I eat my breakfast. By the time he finishes writing, I’ve eaten half my food, and the meds I denied myself earlier (because I didn’t deserve them), are no longer needed.
“Here you are, sir. Any of these places will impress.” He points at one of the names on the list. “This is the one I think you should do though. It’s a canapes and cocktails sunset sail on the Potomac River. They anchor the boat after dark and they let you spend the night in the cabin below. If I could afford to, it’s where I’d take my girlfriend.” Gone is the tense, geeky kid who could barely look at me when he first entered the room. I give his shoulder a clap and take the paper.
“Thank you, Brandon. This is just what I’m looking for.” Grabbing another bill from my money clip, I hand it to him. He smiles widely at first, but then his face falls.
“You already tipped me.” He tries to hand it back as if I’d forgotten.
“Trust me, you’ve saved my ass with this list.” I hold it up. “You deserve some extra, but if you still feel guilty, put it in an account to save up to take your girl for that sailboat dinner.” His smile returns and I walk him out.
“Maybe I’ll get to propose one day on that boat,” he adds as he leaves. I haven’t been the nicest guy to the staff here, and my attitude hasn’t been warranted. Just because I’ve been put in a situation I don’t want to be in, doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on others, especially people who put up with too much shit for too little money.
When he’s gone, I look down at the list and start to formulate a plan. I make calls, ask questions, and for once, I absolutely use my connections to get what I want. I’m confident that I’ve planned a date that Elle will absolutely swoon over.
Now all I have to do is convince her to see me one more time.
