I wouldn’t gag if he kissed me, but neither did I desire him. When we parted ways after paying for our own drinks and a simple handshake, I knew we wouldn’t have a second date.
At least I went on a date that didn’t end with my self-esteem in the garbage. I felt more confident than I had in quite a long time.
When Friday evening rolled around, I was still flying high from my successful Wednesday coffee date. Steven chose a restaurant Hour Magazine had picked as its Best Restaurant of 2011. Other than when my parents took me out, I’d never eaten at a restaurant where everything on the menu had to be ordered ala carte. Certain of extravagant prices that would match the ambiance described by the magazine, I brought enough cash with me to cover my dinner in case we went Dutch.
When I arrived at eight o’clock, I discovered Steven waiting for me in the lobby of the restaurant with one beautiful long-stemmed red rose.
More handsome in person than his photo, his dark brown hair fell playfully over one of his magnificent blue eyes. Now him I could kiss.
“Good evening, Sara. A lovely rose for the lovely lady.” He handed me the rose and bowed.
Okay, that was kind of weird, but maybe he’s just eccentric. I could ignore a few quirks for someone as gorgeous as Steven.
“I requested a romantic table for two in a cove under the stairs. They said it would be available in twenty minutes.”
“Didn’t you tell me you made a reservation?”
“Yes, but the table I prefer us to sit is currently occupied. Trust me, it’s worth the wait. Can I get you a drink at the bar? I hear the 2005 Elderton Command Barossa Shiraz is excellent. Would you care for a glass?”
“Sure.” It might not be Canadian beer, but perhaps Steven would have a thing or two to teach me about sophistication.
Sipping the wine, I discovered hints of berries, lavender, and smokiness. I don’t think I could ever drink a house merlot again without disappointment.
“It’s very good.” I watched him swirl the wine in his glass and sniff it before taking the smallest of sips.
“Yes it is, but unfortunately, not as good as the 2006 Elderton Shiraz. Alas, they do not store it in their wine cellar here. We will have to endure the 2005.”
I nodded in agreement, not anxious to let on I knew nothing about wine.
“Your table is ready. Please follow me.” In addition to the menus, the hostess held a whole bottle of Elderton Shiraz 2005 in her hands.
“That vintage may only be purchased by the bottle.”
I tried to relax telling myself a bottle of wine could only run about twenty dollars, so it would be cheaper to buy it by the bottle rather than by the glass.
I had to admit, the table under the stairs was romantic. The owners had converted the 1820’s farmhouse into a restaurant two years ago, maintaining the general structure of the building. Lit by candlelight, the shadows of lovers on the walls, I found myself enchanted by its elegance. The fact a curtain separated our table from the rest of the room both frightened and intrigued me. Obviously, Steven was a romantic at heart, a rarity in heterosexual man.
Violin music played quietly in the background as we drank our wine and conversed about theater and music, both interests of mine and his as well. He divulged he had season tickets for both the symphony and the opera, but it was difficult in today’s world to find a woman with similar interests. As much as I enjoyed classical music and opera, I had never attended a live performance and I imagined Steven and I frequenting the venues in style, Steven dressed in a tuxedo and me in a ball gown.
He ordered two appetizers to go with our wine, while we pondered the menu for our dinner selection. Three hours later, I could barely move after dining on mussels in wine sauce, tomato salad, beef tenderloin in a mushroom sauce with fingerling potatoes and asparagus, rich chocolate cake, and cappuccino.
I had never enjoyed a first date more. Come to think of it, I don’t think I enjoyed any date more than this that didn’t end with sex. Although I could easily imagine myself in bed with Steven, I had promised Missy I would follow the four dates rule.
It was nearly midnight by the time our waitress brought the check to our table. It sat untouched for a few minutes, before I made my obligatory move to review it. Sure enough, Steven grabbed it back from me.
“Since I chose the restaurant, I insist on paying for the both of us.
“All right, thank you. I’ll pay next time,” I informed him, hoping there would be a next time.
“Your offer to pay is a lovely sentiment, but I will happily pay for our next date as well. I assure you your presence and conversation is worth every penny to me,” he said, causing a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. He actually said there would be a second date!