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“Right this way, Mr. Bennett,” the hostess said to me as she took us to our table.
“Wow, they really did an amazing job,” Hope said to me as we walked toward the corner of the room.
“They certainly did. It has a strange mix of feeling like we’re in someone’s house yet we’ve traveled back in time.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled up at me as I held out her chair for her. By the look that she gave me, it wasn’t something that men normally did for her. I had been taught to always treat women with respect, both as my equal but as someone that should be cherished. I would do both with Hope.
“There are no menus, I hope that’s okay. Eli and Rachel Parker decide what they want to cook and that’s what we’ll have, though from what I have heard everything is amazing,” I said as we got situated in our seats.
“I like the idea of someone choosing the meal for me. I like to eat, love it, but I’m not good at pairing food or deciding what will taste good with what. I’m sure their choices will be much better than mine,” she said.
“We’re about to find out.”
Rachel, a tiny woman in her mid-fifties came up to our table. She was carrying a bottle of Chardonnay with the hostess behind her holding a long cutting board.
“Hello. I’m Rachel, and I’ll be with you tonight. This is Sarah, my assistant. If you need anything, more of something, anything different, special requests, anything at all, please let us know. We want you to enjoy your evening here and we will do anything we can do to make that happen.”
“We’re going to start you out with a charcuterie board filled with some locally grown fruits, meats and cheese. Starting from the left we have goat cheese,” Rachel said.
She went through the entire plate, telling us what everything was and where they were sourced. I listened with half an ear as I was more interested in looking at Hope and seeing her reaction. I could tell she was excited and a little confused about some of what was in front of us.
“Feel free to mix and match, there’s no right or wrong way to eat this. Have some fun with it. Have your date try what you are, you’d be amazed at what you like that the other doesn’t or what you end up fighting over. If you would like more of anything, please let us know.”
“Thank you, Rachel,” I said.
Sarah placed the cutting board on the table and with a slight nod followed Rachel back into the kitchen. I could hear who I assumed was Eli working in the kitchen with the rest of his staff, including Miguel, JD’s friend and the pastry chef.
“Dig in,” I lifted my glass and moved it towards hers. Hope did the same thing and we touched our glasses. “To new beginnings and adventures.”
“To new beginnings and adventures,” she repeated and took a sip.
The Chardonnay was light, buttery, and smooth going down. I knew it would pair perfectly with all the food in front of us. I leaned back with my wine, waiting to see what Hope would try. She scanned the plate, and I could see her mind working as she tried to figure out what to try first. There was plenty to choose from.
After a few moments, she put a slice of the goat cheese onto a cracker and then added an olive spread on top of it. I kept my eyes on her as she took a bite. It must have been good as she closed her eyes and moaned. I immediately thought about what it would be like to have her moan like that for other reasons and I had to shift slightly in my seat.
“That good, huh?” I asked.
“It’s incredible. The olive spread has this strange kick to it. I can’t place it, but it brings out the cheese flavor and with the wine, it’s magnificent. You should try it.”
I started to reach over to make a cracker for myself, but Hope beat me to it and made one for me. I reached over and took the cracker from her, and it was her turn to watch me as I took a bite. She was right, it was incredible, just the right mix of tart and tang with a hint of something else.
“You’re onto something. That might be one of the best things I’ve ever tasted, and my brother is opening up a restaurant, though please, don’t tell him I said that,” I said.
“Don’t worry your secret's safe with me.”
“Thank you. How’s the writing coming along?”
“Slow,” she said with a laugh and took another sip of her wine.
“Is it supposed to go fast?”
“Probably faster than the rate I’m going. I haven’t even written a chapter yet,” she admitted.
“Why is that?”
“I’m not ready to.”
