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“Sparkling water, thank you.”
Pierre came to our table and introduced himself to me before several moments of banter took place between the two men. He took our drinks order and left us to peruse the menus.
“What would you like to eat, Sweetheart?”
I loved the term of endearment Hudson had taken to calling me. I’d had a quick glance at the menu but since I’d never had French cuisine before, I didn’t know what to choose. “I have no idea.”
“Would you like me to order for you?”
“I’d appreciate it, thank you.”
Pierre set our drinks on the table—whisky dry for Hudson, which seemed to be his drink of choice. He had said it was what he’d been drinking when we’d first met.
“Ready to order?” Pierre asked.
I nodded for Hudson to go ahead.
“We’ll have the mussels cooked in white wine sauce for starters, then Poulet with sauteed mushrooms, creamed spinach, and steamed vegetables. A bottle of Le Newbie and dessert will be Mont Blanc, thank you.
“Consider it done.” Pierre gathered the menus and drinks list and left to give the kitchen our order.
“What is Poulet?”
“Grilled chicken breast with honey mustard glaze.”
“And Mont Blanc? I’m not climbing any mountains tonight.”
Hudson laughed. “Not tonight, Sweetheart. Mont Blanc is meringue topped with chestnut puree, whipped cream, and finished with slivers of Swiss chocolate.”
I looked down at my lap. “Did you hear that, hips? You just added three centimetres hearing that, didn’t you?”
Hudson laughed again and gathered my hand in his. “You are like a breath of fresh air.”
“Why?”
“Most people I talk to are careful about what they say, fearful they will offend me in some way, but you speak from the heart. I noticed that when we talked on the phone this week.”
“Outback gal,” I said by way of an explanation before adding, “we’re raised to work hard, ride hard—horses, not men—and ‘speak the God’s honest truth,’ as Dad would say.”
Hudson roared with laughter at my comment about men. “I want to meet your dad.”
My eyes widened on hearing Hudson’s declaration. “Bit soon to be meeting the parents, don’t you think?”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean I can’t look forward to seeing the station and meeting your family.”
“I suppose.” I wondered if the novelty that was me would wear off before I had a chance to take Hudson home and suspected it would. What would happen with my job if we didn’t at least stay friends? I’d worry about that later.
During dinner, we talked about topics in the news and shared our opinions, which for the most part, were in agreement. I also told him about my dream destination for a holiday when I’d saved enough money. I refused to delve into my current savings and the money Mum and Dad had so generously given to help with my sense of security.
“Hawaii?” Hudson asked as we dug into our sinfully decadent desserts. “Not Europe?”
I was aware that most people my age were enthralled by Europe and its history, but it wasn’t and never had been on my radar. Growing up in the top end where it was dry and dusty for most of the year, tropical beaches, white sands, the history of Pearl Harbor, and the uniqueness of the Big Island were what drew me like a fly to honey.
“Yes, Hawaii.” I explained why it was my choice to Hudson.
“But Australia has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world; why not just visit some of those?”
“I intend to, but I’m drawn to Hawaii for some reason.”
