AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Glancing out the window, I watch as the countryside passes us by as we get closer to the city. By the time I realize that I have fallen silent, I don't know what to say to pick the conversation back up so I focus on the music playing lightly around us.
I try to imagine Bentley as a young boy, tucked away in the corner of a dusty club listening to this very same music. I imagine the atmosphere and how alive everything must have seemed to him back then. I get so carried away in my day dream, that I don't even process we have entered the city until Bentley pulls the car to a stop in front ofPiermans, one of Chicago's finest restaurants.
The valet quickly approaches and before I really have time to process, my door is being opened and I am being assisted from the low bucket seat, taking extra caution to not let my nearly bare breasts topple out of the low cut dress.
Bentley crosses around the car and retrieves his valet ticket before joining me on the curb and offering me his arm. “Shall we?” He asks, smiling sweetly at me, his dimples on full display.
Nodding, I allow him to lead me through the revolving glass doors into a lobby that looks more like I just stepped into a fish bowl rather than a restaurant. Floor to ceiling aquariums line the interior walls which have various forms of sea life living within.
“Come on.” Bentley says, steering me to the right, away from the hostess area and down a long corridor with more aquarium walls and shiny marble floors. It isn't until he pushes his way through the double swinging white doors that I realize he has led me into the back entrance of the kitchen. Chefs and waiters bustle around busily trying to get food out to the already packed restaurant.
“Bentley?” I question, turning to look at him like he's lost his mind.
“Don't worry. I know the chef.” He smiles and kisses me lightly on the cheek before leading me further into the kitchen and then turning to the right revealing a small oval booth tucked away in the corner, a single candle lit in the middle as the centerpiece.
“Bentley.” His name falls off my lips as I realize what he's doing.
“Best table in the house.” He smiles, squeezing my hand as he leads me across the room and waits until I scoot into the booth before sliding in next to me.
“What are we doing back here?” I ask, still trying to process that not only I am going to eat at a restaurant that costs more than ten meals at my favorite little diner, but that I am also going to do so in the company of the actual chef.
Before he has a chance to answer, a middle aged handsome man approaches our table wearing a full white uniform which immediately sets him apart from the rest of the staff that is dressed all in black.
“Anna Blake, meet Derek Shipley. Head Chef and a very good friend of mine.” He says, gesturing between the two of us. It takes me a moment to process the fact that he just used my real name. But as Derek turns to me to speak, I try to push past it and not dwell. While my mind may want to run away with a trillion reasons why he chose to use Anna instead of Logan, I know that he probably just didn't want to introduce me to someone under a fake name.
“It's very nice to meet you Ms. Blake.” Derek says, smiling a toothy grin at me, making him even more handsome. Nothing like Bentley of course, but he definitely has a certain charm to him. He's tall and broad, with short dark blonde hair and a square jaw that is lined with a light dusting of facial hair that makes him seem even manlier. Like Josh, he seems more fit for manual labor.
“And you.” I say, reaching out to allow him to shake my hand lightly before pulling it away. Derek proceeds to ramble off the specials for the evening and while I try desperately to follow, I only understand about half of the things he says.
“I will give you a few minutes to decide.” Derek finishes, nodding at Bentley before walking away and reclaiming his post in the action of the kitchen.
“Do you know what you would like?” Bentley asks as a young waiter in a black suit approaches, filling our glasses with some type of red wine before walking away without speaking one single word.
“What do you suggest?” I ask, hoping he doesn't pick up on the fact that I am asking because I have no idea what anything is.
“Do you prefer fish or red meat?” He asks, not questioning me any further.
“Red meat.” I answer almost immediately, having always been more of a steak than fish girl. He smiles and then nods his head.
“The filet here is the best you can get in Chicago.” He says, retrieving his wine glass and waiting for me to lift mine before speaking again. “To you. Happy Birthday.” He says, lightly clinking my glass before taking a long drink of the red content.
“It's not technically my birthday until tomorrow, but thank you.” I say, lifting the glass to my face to inhale the sweet smell before hesitantly tipping the glass to my lips and taking a small drink. The moment the sweetness settles over my tongue, I immediately take another long gulp.
“This is incredible.” I say a little too enthusiastically, setting the glass back down. “I probably don't want to know how much a bottle of this costs do I?” I ask, regretting how judgmental the question sounds.
“Red Moscato, it's only about a hundred dollars a bottle.” He laughs at my surprised expression. “While I prefer some of the finer things life has to offer, I am not by any means a wine expert. I drink what tastes good and this is my favorite.” He says, taking another drink of the dark red liquid.
“I can see why.” I say, trying to move past my sudden embarrassment that I just assumed something about him when I should know better. I am about to say more but immediately fall silent when Derek approaches our table again.
“Have you decided what you would like this evening?” He asks, smiling warmly, his eyes going back and forth from me to Bentley and then back to me.
“She will have the filet.” Bentley says, pausing to look at me.
“Medium.” I add in, not sure why he felt the need to order for me and even more unsure as to why I kind of like that he did.
