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"Well it certainly sounds like you have a passion for your work. That's something not too many people have these days."
Lorelai nods in agreement. We lapse into silence again and drink our wine. Her answer was sweet and a little surprising, and I found myself charmed by her. There’s something innocent and wholesome about her, in spite of the voluptuous, sexy exterior that has me thinking some very unwholesome thoughts.
In every way, Lorelai is the exact opposite of the girls that I usually look at, and it dawns on me that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing here.
What could make me choose a woman like this?
I mean, obviously she’s beautiful and sweet, but she’s also too pure and too clean for filthy hands like mine. I look her over again. I realize that I have no idea why I'm here, but I couldn't stay away from her no matter how hard I try.
I put my wine down and want her to talk again. "Are you looking for your happily ever after? Your Prince Charming?" I ask.
The words are out of my mouth before I even realize they’ve popped into my head.
She almost chokes on her wine. Covering a cough with her free hand, she puts her glass down and looks at me. It looks as if she is unsure of how to answer. Finally she says, "Of course I am. Isn't everyone looking for love? Their better half?
I take another sip of wine before I reply. "Well, if that's how it is, then I guess that's not what I'm looking for. I guess I don't believe in that sort of thing anymore…."
I can see the confusion in her eyes. She opens her mouth to ask a question but is interrupted by the waiter. "Here are your salads, and your meals will be right out,” he says, putting plates down in front of each of us.
"Wonderful, thank you."
The waiter nods and leaves.
"Well, this looks delicious," she says, “Shall we?”
We both start to eat, and the food gives us a momentary reprieve from conversation or awkward silence. Honestly, I don't know why I started talking about such a serious subject. I'm really not ready to delve into that topic of conversation.
I never should have brought it up in the first place. I just couldn't help myself. Maybe I’m just a bitter asshole who wanted to crush her idealistic belief in love as a fairytale.
Now that I think about it, I definitely feel like an asshole. I guess I'm just not used to being around such innocence. I sigh as we eat our food. I don't want to spoil the night, but maybe I can change the subject or something. I look up at her and ask, "Are you enjoying your dinner?"
She chews and swallows before answering "Yes. You’ve made good calls so far,” she says with a shy smile, holding up her wine glass to punctuate the words, “Everything tastes wonderful.”
As if we’ve summoned him, the waiter returns with our entrees, and as we dig in , the look on Lorelai’s face is rapturous and I’m pleased to see that I made another good call with the food.
Well, at least I know I didn't ruin our dinner. Now it should be easier to have a conversation. I just need to remind myself not to bring up something so serious if I'm not ready to talk about it.
Still, she believes in true love and happy endings. That's cute, yet it makes me feel a little protective. She’s a grown woman, so I’m sure she realizes that there are people who can take advantage of that kind of innocence, but I don't want her to ever run across anyone like that.
Lorelai looks at me, and those shy hazel eyes and soft freckled face make something in my chest constrict. She deserves that fairytale happiness, and even if I want to protect her and keep her for myself, I’m the furthest thing from Prince Charming.
Chapter 8 - Lorelai
This is truly a magical evening. It feels like a dream, honestly. I never imagined that I would be dining in the most expensive or romantic restaurant in town. I look over at Gabriel. I just never thought the Prince who swept me off my feet would be so aloof and distant.
Can I even call him that? I mean, he’s made it pretty clear that he’s not after romance. But then…why me?
Our dinner plates are swept away and replaced by dessert and coffee. Again, the conversation is minimal, pertaining to the food or the restaurant. After we finish and our plates are cleared away once more, I think about what he said earlier.
I find it strange that he doesn't believe in love. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who didn’t believe in love, I didn’t know it was possible not to.
