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The limo driver opened the car door for them.
“How a
re we doing so far?”
“I’m really enjoying myself and we haven’t even left yet.” She slid inside the limo. “So I’d have to say that you’re both doing fantastic.”
Roberto climbed in, sitting on one side of her. He took her hand and kissed it. “That pleases my brother and me more than you can imagine.”
Miguel moved to the other side of Camille and took her other hand. “And the evening has only just begun.” He pressed his lips against the back of her soft hand.
Seeing Roberto glance at his own reflection in the ice bucket, just as he had done earlier, made him grin. They both wanted the same thing, to give Camille the best night of her life, and that was exactly what he meant to do.
Chapter Seven
Sitting between the two gorgeous men, Cami’s once-cold hands felt warm and toasty from their kisses. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so excited about going on a date. Roberto and Miguel had already helped her relax with their banter, and their compliments convinced her that she was pretty. Thank you, Enrique. You’re a genius. She already knew the night with the Sanchez brothers was going to be incredible.
“Would you like something to drink?” Miguel asked her. “The limo has a stocked bar.”
“A glass of white wine would be nice.”
“Coming right up.” He poured wine into a stemmed crystal glass and handed it to her.
She took a sip. “Delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her cell rang. “Do you mind if I take this? It might be my assistant.”
“Of course,” Roberto said. “Take your call.”
He and Miguel were not only charming, good-looking, and fun, but they were also incredibly understanding. She brought out her cell from her clutch. The word on the screen disturbed her. “Unknown.”
“Is everything okay, Camille?” Miguel squeezed her hand gently.
“Yes. Not my assistant. It can go to voicemail.” She put the cell back in her purse. Her heart was racing. Who keeps calling me? She took another sip of wine. I can’t let a prank caller destroy my evening.
The limo stopped in front of La Chambre Rouge. The driver opened their door and they all stepped out onto the sidewalk. Standing between them, she felt like a princess. They led her up the steps. Her concern about the call vanished as they walked through the doors.
A hostess greeted them. “Bonsoir, messieurs et madame,” the woman said in perfect French. “May I have the name on your reservation?”
“Sanchez,” Roberto said.
The hostess smiled broadly. “Oui. You are friends with Monsieur Leblanc.”
“Oui, madame,” Miguel answered, his French as flawless as the woman’s.
The hostess typed something on her iPad. “Everything you requested is ready. Our table royale is yours for this evening. Monsieur Leblanc wanted to be notified the moment you arrived.”
“That definitely sounds like Pierre.” Roberto turned to Miguel. “He just wants to get a look at our date.”
“No doubt about that,” he answered. “We’ve never taken anyone here on a date before.”
Learning that made her feel very special.
Roberto said, “Camille, Pierre is a wonderful friend, and the meal we asked him to prepare for you is amazing.”
“I can’t wait to taste it.” Feeling a bit flirty, she added, “I believe he’s the third best chef in the city, and you know what two I think are at the top of the list.”
