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“Although this does remind me a little of Cinderella at the ball,” he added, pointing at my bare foot with a playful grin.
I laughed, my embarrassment fading away. Only Alexander could turn my flustered state into a charming fairy tale reference.
“Does that make you my Prince Charming?” I joked.
“I suppose it does,” he chuckled, handing me the bouquet of wildflowers. Their sweet, earthy scent filled the entryway.
“These are lovely, thank you.”
“I also come bearing gifts of wine,” he said, holding a bottle. “A Chablis to complement our meal.”
“Wonderful,” I said. “Let me take those while I go find my missing shoe. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be a minute!”
I felt a renewed excitement about the evening as I hurried upstairs, no longer anxious about my partially ready state. With Alexander here, it already felt like a magical fairy tale.
***
I carried the salmon fillets and roasted vegetables to the dining table, where Alexander was already seated. He had shed his usual professional attire for a casual blue button-down that brought out his eyes. I set the dishes down, suddenly self-conscious about my humble meal.
“This looks incredible, Etta,” Alexander said. “Did you make that creamy dill sauce too? It smells divine.”
I smiled, relieved. “I did. It’s an old family recipe.”
As we began eating, the conversation flowed easily. We discussed Lucia’s upcoming author event and Clara’s latest office mishap. I was amazed at how effortlessly Alexander infused humor into even mundane work topics.
“Poor Clara,” he chuckled. “I don’t think she’ll ever figure out the copy machine settings. You’d think an instruction manual written in hieroglyphics would deter her, but not our Clara.”
I laughed. “Her persistence is admirable, even if her technological skills are lacking.”
Alexander smiled and took another bite of salmon, closing his eyes in delight. “Mmm...this is absolutely delicious, Etta.”
I blushed at the compliment. “I’m so glad you like it. The fresh dill really makes the sauce pop.”
“It’s restaurant-quality,” he said. “You’ll have to give me your recipe.”
“Only if you promise not to open a competing salmon bistro,” I joked.
Alexander raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “You’ve discovered my secret entrepreneurial plot. Foiled again!”
We continued chatting over the light, lemony roasted vegetables, and toasted almond couscous. Alexander had a knack for weaving humor into even mundane details about work and town happenings. With each laugh we shared, I fell deeper under his spell.
Over tiramisu and coffee, our conversation took a more serious turn. Alexander asked about my transition from city to small town life. I confessed it had been an adjustment, but Pebble Point increasingly felt like home again, thanks in large part to reconnecting with people like him. A tender look passed between us, and I felt butterflies in my stomach.
As we finished dessert, I worried the evening was drawing to an end. But Alexander insisted on cleaning up despite my protests. I relinquished dish duty and put on a record of old jazz standards instead. The rich, smooth notes of Billie Holiday soon filled the kitchen. Unable to resist, I held my hand out toAlexander in a wordless invitation. He took it, pulling me close as we swayed gently to the music.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear.
I closed my eyes and leaned into Alexander’s embrace, the rest of the world fading away. His hands pressed gently yet firmly against my back, guiding me as we swayed. I shivered, though not from the cold - it was from the electricity of his touch, so strong yet delicate all at once.
Our cheeks brushed, and I caught the faint scent of his cologne, clean and woodsy. With every song, each note seemed to draw us closer until we were chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. The old jazz melodies wrapped around us like a blanket, soft and dreamlike. I wondered if he could feel my heart pounding against his, keeping rhythm with the bass.
At this moment, nothing else mattered but being here with him. The past and future blurred, the present crystallizing into something too exquisite to grasp yet impossible to let go. I wanted to cling to this feeling, sear it into my memory so I’d never forget how he held me as if I was something precious. As the last strains of music faded, we continued swaying, neither wanting the dance to end.
The record ended all too soon. Alexander whispered his thanks for the lovely evening. I walked him to the door, both of us reluctant to part ways. But the night was getting late, so we said goodnight. His lips grazed my cheek, igniting a spark within me. I watched him walk away, already longing for our subsequent encounter.
I closed the door and leaned against it, pressing my hands to my warm cheeks. The evening had been utter perfection. My romantic dinner with Alexander had drawn us closer together, though so much still lay unspoken between us. As I got ready for bed, I replayed every moment we’d shared, hugging thememories close to my heart. I drifted off with a smile, dreaming of slowly dancing in Alexander’s arms.
Chapter 19
