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Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2014 17:03:41 GMT -5
It was a bright and cheery Friday morning in Gotham City, and it matched Vicki Vale’s mood as she entered the lobby of The Gotham Gazette. She was looking forward to having the afternoon off so she could prepare for her dinner date with Marc Dahlmaine.
“Tonight’s the big night, isn’t it?” receptionist Ginger Mills asked, skipping her usually chipper “Good Morning!” greeting and cutting straight to the chase.
“Yes, it is,” Vicki replied, her eyes flashing with an emotion Ginger could certainly identify as anticipation.
As the two women continued an idle conversation about the dinner date, Vicki inhaled a deep, fortifying breath, unable to quell the nervous little quiver in her stomach. It had been three days since she had physically seen Marc, and she hadn’t spoken to him on the phone since Wednesday, when she called and gave him her address. By now, their “picture perfect” day together was an unforgettable memory. Since then, there hadn’t been a day she didn’t think about Marc. For her, it had become as natural as breathing. The ruggedly handsome Frenchman was the first thing she thought of when she woke in the morning and the last thing on her mind when she turned out the light at night. She was still basking in the afterglow of their first meeting and hoped their evening together would be just as special.
“What’s the matter, Vicki?” sports reporter Tommy Purvis laughed as he stopped at the reception desk with staff photographer Frank Getty. Tommy loved goading Vicki into a raunchy conversation every once in a while. “Got a hot date tonight with Marc-ipoo?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Vicki replied curtly. “Not that it’s any of your business, Tommy.”
“Good for you!” Tommy exclaimed sarcastically. Then he saw the look in Vicki’s eyes and couldn’t resist. “Aww. Pining over Marc, I bet. Dammit, Vicki! Give it up . . . preferably to me. Why don’t we get together sometime? My bed or yours?”
Vicki turned her nose up at Tommy’s vulgar display and fought the urge to smack him across the face or sucker-punch him to the floor. “It’s a good thing I don’t condone violence in the workplace,” she fumed, “’cause you don’t know how badly I want to slap your ass right now.”
“Promises, promises, baby!” Tommy chided over his shoulder, rubbing his rear end as he and Frank walked off toward the bullpen.
“Pay him no mind, girlfriend,” office manager Pearl Carter told Vicki as she waddled up to the desk. “Are you excited about tonight? You’ve only been talking about it all week!”
Vicki nodded. “Me? Excited? That’s an understatement, Pearl!” she giggled. “Yes, I’m ready. Everything’s waiting for me at the house when I get home. All I have to do is prepare the meal.”
“What are you having?” Ginger asked.
“We’re having a home-cooked meal -- Coq au vin.”
“Ooh!” Pearl cooed. “Sounds delicious! Why that?”
“Well, it’s a French dish, and Marc’s French, so I wanted to make him something that would remind him of home,” Vicki explained. “A tossed salad will be the appetizer. I have this homemade vinaigrette salad dressing recipe that I’ve been dying to try. I’ll finally get the chance tonight. As far as dessert goes, Tiramisu is a popular coffee-flavored Italian dessert, and Marc loves coffee -- well, except for when he's wearing it.”
The trio of ladies broke into laughter.
“Since Marc speaks French and Italian, I thought I’d give him a taste of both worlds,” Vicki added. “By the way, Marc’s bringing the wine.”
“That is soooooo romantic,” Ginger sighed. “I’m happy for you, Vicki. Maybe he’ll whisper some French and Italian in your ear tonight.”
Pearl put her hands on her wide hips. “Does Marc speak the most important language of all?” she inquired, wiggling her eyebrows. “The language of love? And I’m not meaning French!” she clarified.
Vicki stared at the middle-aged woman for a moment. She didn’t know what to say. Meanwhile, Pearl was grinning from ear to ear, obviously noting Vicki's surprise at being put on the spot.
“Marc is definitely a great kisser,” Vicki finally answered sheepishly. She briefly closed her eyes, trying to imagine herself in an intimate setting with him. She couldn’t help but wonder if Marc was just as excited about getting together as she was.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 15:13:17 GMT -5
Friday had come quickly. After their parting he had sought out a flower shop to procure roses for Vicki. He hadn't heard anything from her about them, so he had hoped he had sent them properly. He had made certain to send her at least one text, daily when he had the time. And since their last face to face meeting he had been busy.
He had a few flats scheduled to look at. He'd acquired, and expanded his own business ventures in a night with the help of a friend. So as he lay in the middle of his bed loathe to get up he curled an arm behind his head, thinking. He had things to do before he headed to Vicki's later. Wine to procure for the evening, flowers to purchase. Now that was an idea. Rolling to his side he reached and plucked his wallet from the table, thumbing through business cards until he found the one he wanted.
His phone dialed the florist's number as he ordered a dozen yellow, and a dozen white roses to be sent to her office around 11:15. With a card that stated simply: "Thinking of you." A safeguard in case the prior bouquet had failed to meet it's mark.
Tossing his wallet beside him on the sheet he groaned, an arm thrown over his eyes at the light creeping in. This had to be one of the days he was not an adequate morning person. He did not feel like a morning run, either. Perhaps laps at the pool would wake him up. Maybe coffee. Maybe a different rigorous wake-up activity would have done just as nicely, but he had no companion in his bed.
Shifting to grab at his nightstand he went for the small box similar in size to his wallet. Before he'd left France his mother had insisted he venture down the journey of quitting his filthy habit of smoking. Even after they had gone back and forth about how insulting it was to turn down a client's offer, be it cigar, or cigarette. But he'd caved to the endearing woman, his Mama, and taken the small contraption. An electronic cigarette. It was not the same. There was no flick of carbon, it did not burn, it was a piece of plastic with some sort of vapor. But there had been choices, and with his activity lately he had noted less dependence.
But he had been busy. And had channeled his fury over lack of a beloved habit into dominating this city with his craft. And thus far he had done well. As the small device discharged it's vapor, he inhaled. And then again. Then he rolled his eyes at it before setting it back down and sitting on the edge of his bed. It was already ten thirty. He'd have to get moving if he were to make it to her place promptly.
---
His hair was still damp as he went to grab his coffee. He'd purchased a new mug of his own to avoid the flimsy cardboard that most hot beverages were served within in Gotham. He'd been able to procure not one, but two bottles of wine for the night and had them at his suite. He now had a few calls to make, a few orders to file, and he'd soon be back to prepare for their evening. He thumbed his phone to send her a quick text as he cared to not disturb her day.
--- Shower, shave and a bit of contemplation over attire. He'd gone with a pair of grey slacks, a deep navy oxford. Black shoes. It was a nice enough evening that he could go without a jacket as he rolled his cuffs to his forearm. It was an art in a way to do so without making it look too polished, or too sloppy. His looked casually haphazard, despite being planned. A glance at his watch told him he still had time so he went to sit before his tv, clicking it on to watch the news before he left.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2014 16:19:17 GMT -5
After Vicki finished her conversation with her colleagues, the reporter went to her private office, sat down, and lost herself in writing assignments for the next two hours. When she finally reached a stopping point, she took a break and looked at her wristwatch. She was surprised to discover that it was a little bit after eleven.
“Time sure flies when you’re having fun,” she joked to herself, sighing heavily. She started packing up because she’d be leaving within the half hour.
As she stood to her feet and cleared her desk of various kinds of pens and stacks of books and papers, her thoughts drifted to Marc, and she eyed the beautiful roses he had sent her on Wednesday. They were in a vase on the edge of her desk. She had brought them from home so she could enjoy them at work, since she was in the office more than she was at home. Then she recalled the text messages he had sent her as well. They were short and sweet, but at least they indicated that she was in his thoughts, too. She still had them saved on her phone – keepsakes that she read every time she started to miss him. She didn’t have a heart to delete them.
Lost in thought, Vicki daydreamed about the evening she and Marc would share. It was to be held at her house in north Gotham – a casual setting, a candlelight dinner for two in her dining room. She tried to imagine what Marc would wear. She smiled, finding it hard for herself to imagine him in jeans and a polo shirt. He was more stylish than that. She figured he’d wear nice dress slacks and a collared shirt. She was almost certain he wouldn’t wear a tie, though. For him, that would be casual.
Suddenly, a knock on her door awakened her back to reality. It was Ginger, standing there with a bouquet of beautiful yellow and white stemmed roses. “These came for you,” Ginger announced, walking over and laying them in Vicki’s arms. “I don’t think either one of us has to guess who sent them!”
Vicki gasped when she read the card. “They’re from Marc! The card says ‘Thinking of You’,” she told Ginger. “Aww! That man! Isn’t he the sweetest thing? I still haven’t thanked him for the roses he sent me Wednesday. I’d better do that now before I –“
As if on cue, Vicki’s cel phone dinged. It was another text message from Marc. His timing was impeccable.
Laying the flowers down on her now-barren desk, Vicki texted Marc back:
Marc, the yellow and white roses are gorgeous! They are more beautiful than the yellow roses you sent Wednesday. Today’s flowers will make a beautiful centerpiece for our dinner tonight. Thank you. See you tonight at seven. Oh – don’t forget to bring the wine!
Vicki was so excited and nervous that the phone was trembling in her hands and she could hardly type without messing up. Ginger laughed with her and made a hasty exit. Vicki wasn’t alone for long, though. George Ackerman passed Ginger in the hallway and entered the private office next. “You got a minute?” he asked rhetorically, just to be courteous.
“I guess so,” Vicki replied, watching him take a seat in one of the two empty chairs on the opposite side of her desk without being invited. “Is this business, pleasure, or something else?”
“Something else,” George laughed nervously. “I wanted to talk to you before you left.” He fumbled with his words. “How do I say this?”
Vicki took a seat. “You say it quickly,” she answered humorously. “I’m leaving in three minutes.”
George held up his left hand and pointed to his marriage band.
“Thirty-four years, Vicki. That’s how long the wife and I have been married. Every day is an adventure. Some days are better than others, but they all balance out over time. I want to talk to you about your date tonight.”
At that moment, Vicki thought about the lectures she had gotten from her father when she was dating in high school. “Don’t worry, ‘Dad’,” she quipped. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t know, Vicki,” George sighed. “The way you’ve been acting and talking – it sounds like you’ve really fallen for this guy – Marc. Is that his name?”
Vicki nodded. “I appreciate your concern, George, but it really isn’t necessary.”
“I just want you to be careful, Vicki,” George confessed. “You’ve only been with this man one time. Everybody tries to make a good first impression. It’s the second one I’m more interested in. Look, I’m glad you found someone you really care about. Someone like you deserves a great guy, and I hope Marc is one. Just don’t give him your heart too soon.”
Vicki made a face, as if to say “Too Late”, but she didn’t comment.
“You’re like a daughter to me, Vicki, and I want you to be careful. There’s more to being with a person than getting the warm fuzzies, if you get my drift. You two need to get to know one another before you jump into something serious. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Vicki nodded. “Marc and I have talked about this,” she replied. “I’m sure we’ll talk about it some more tonight and in our future dates, if we make any. I enjoy being with Marc, and he seems to enjoy my company, too. Right now, we’re just two friends getting together and having a good time. Trust me, George. If things get more serious between Marc and me, I promise that you’ll be the third person to know.”
George nodded back. “Okay,” he sighed. “Fair enough. I want to meet this Marc guy, though. You two aren’t going to do anything without my blessing.”
“Yes, we are,” Vicki laughed, standing and gathering her purse and the flowers. “Marc and I are having dinner tonight! Good-bye, George! “
As she left George sitting in her office, Vicki felt incredibly lucky to be surrounded by co-workers who really did care about her.
* * * * * * * ** * * * * * *
When Vicki got home, she went upstairs to her bedroom and changed into a casual outfit – a lilac T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans with white tennis shoes. She didn’t start cooking right away. Instead, she did some light cleaning and dusting first.
By the time six o’clock rolled around, the house was filled with good smells – a heavenly, flavorful aroma that would tempt any dinner guest. Vicki hoped Marc was hungry. She checked on the dessert chilling in the refrigerator one last time before she went upstairs to shower and get ready for Marc. As she yawned, she wished she had taken a short nap, but the afternoon had been too busy for that. She wondered if Marc’s day had been just as busy as hers.
The hot shower was delightful and refreshing. Vicki enjoyed it so much that she stood under the showerhead for an extra ten minutes. Then she dried herself off and wrapped herself in an oversize towel before proceeding to her walk-in closet to select the right outfit for the evening.
Vicki was dressed and ready in thirty minutes. She eyed herself in the mirror as she made the final touches to her makeup, lipstick, and hair. Having good hair was all that mattered to Vicki. Everything else was icing on the cake.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Vicki fluffed her hair and turned in a circle one last time, inspecting her outfit – a pink ribbed blouse and a nice pair of black pants with black high-heels. Large gold-hooped earrings, her gold wristwatch, and her heart-pendant necklace completed the ensemble.
Looking at her watch, Vicki noticed it was almost seven. Everything was ready, including her. Now all Vicki had to do was go downstairs and wait for Marc to show up.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 21, 2014 17:04:05 GMT -5
Thumbing over his phone to look at the texts Vicki sent him helped pass the time. He stood and clicked the tv of as he grabbed a light jacket. It was more a sweater that zipped up the front in a darker shade of grey and a slight mock neck collar. Slipping his phone and wallet into his pockets he grabbed both bottles of wine to take to the dinner. She had liked the flowers. And he got word that she had received the other bouquet. Good.
He had requested a vehicle for this evening not aware of how late it was going to be. So as he set both bottles of wine beside him before looking over the coupe he'd been sent. It was a slight thing a two seater. If he was going to brave Gotham's traffic through the city and to the north side to her home. He had been given good directions so he had no qualms as he shifted it to gear. He'd requested a standard. Automatic cars were not worth his time. If he were going to the motions of driving a vehicle he would do it fully. Driving was an endeavor that demanded full attention to detail.
So as he pulled in to her driveway he noted there were certain lights on. This was her home. Retrieving both bottles of wine and turning the car off he made sure all was right. Brake. Lights off and that the doors were locked in case. One could never be too careful in a new city.
He made his way to the front door, knocking thrice before waiting for her.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 18:33:28 GMT -5
The knock on the door startled Vicki so that she almost tipped over one of the two candles she was lighting on the dining room table. Making sure the romantic setting looked absolutely perfect, she put aside the matchbook and squinted at the grandfather clock standing in the far corner of the living room. It was barely 7 p.m.! Marc was punctual, as expected.
Untying her apron, Vicki hung it in the kitchen before she went to answer the door. She put one eye to the peephole and cooed at the sight before her:
Big, tall, sexy male.
Eyeing his outfit, Vicki thought Marc looked downright mouthwatering. The view of him was tantalizingly delicious and aroused her appetite, but not for food. Her face beamed with excitement as she opened the locks, removed the chain, and swung the door wide with a hint of modesty.
Smiling seductively, Vicki leveled a very hot look on her dinner guest. Her gaze skipped over him, lingering in inappropriate places before settling on his face.
“Hello, Marc,” she finally greeted. “You’re looking good this evening.”
For a moment, Vicki tried to melt Marc with a long, hot, dark stare. Then she motioned with her hand for him to enter the house. Once he was inside, she closed and locked the door again. Then she turned and gave him her undivided attention, putting her temperature on the rise as she stared up into his intense, sparkling ice-blue eyes.
Having waited all week for this moment, Vicki couldn’t believe it had finally arrived and was actually happening. Now Marc was standing right there in front of her in the flesh -- gorgeous, strong, heroic . . . and all hers for the evening.
"Did you have any trouble finding the house?" she asked, making conversation as she led the way to the kitchen. What she really wanted to know was if he was as excited as she was, but she didn't ask him that.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 21:51:31 GMT -5
He tried to be punctual. And assertive as he was looked over by her. It was a bit of time before she answered the door so she must have been busy doing something. Finishing dinner, perhaps? Either way, both bottles of wine were in one hand as she opened the door and let him stand outside while she made sure he was dressed to her standards. He hoped the grey sweater, slacks, and dark blue shirt were appropriate for this dinner date.
She looked nice as well, the color of her top accentuating her eyes. Which held a look only for him. Smouldering as he finally stood inside and allowed her to shut the door. She was taking in her own home, and he raised his brow at that. She was the mistress of her own manor that was clear as she moved around him.
Once inside her home he leaned in close and pressed a kiss to her cheek, nodding. "You look quite well, Vi. I brought two bottles of wine. Shall we chill them?" He removed his shoes and set them by the door before moving to unzip his sweater and expose his navy oxford shirt.
He had to admire her again as she looked up at him. She was a rather vivid creature, even more vibrant in the comfort of her own home. "Your directions were perfect. I had no trouble at all." He responded effortlessly as he took in the entryway of her home.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2014 15:07:02 GMT -5
When they entered the kitchen, Vicki showed Marc the chicken simmering in the Dutch oven pan on the stove, along with pearl onions, cubed bacon, button mushrooms, celery, carrots, chicken stock, and three cloves of garlic.
“Doesn’t the Coq au Vin smell heavenly?” she asked, excited that everything she’d prepared had turned out so well. Taking a wooden spoon, she slightly stirred the contents to make sure the ingredients weren’t sticking to the pan. “Please be a dear and place the wine bottles in the freezer to chill for a bit,” she instructed, pointing to the refrigerator. “We’ll be ready to eat in about ten minutes.”
As she spoke, she watched over egg noodles cooking in another pan. When they came to a boil, she turned off the broiler, drained the noodles, and divided them into two pasta bowls. Then she concentrated on the Dutch oven pan again.
Meanwhile, the dining room table was set, complete with candelabra, a wine stand already filled with ice, and a wine opener. The lights were dimmed low, and soft violin music from the CD player in the living room serenaded them, creating a romantic ambiance and setting the tone for the evening.
“I’m glad you didn’t have any trouble finding me,” Vicki said playfully as Marc stored the wine. “I’d hate to be having dinner by myself!”
When Marc joined her at the stove, Vicki acknowledged his presence with a gentle smile.
“Would you do me a favor and taste this chicken sauce for me?” she asked timidly. “I want to know if you like it.”
Cupping her hand under the wooden spoon, she brought the sauce to Marc’s mouth and watched him sample it.
“Hmm. I’d better taste it, too,” she told herself aloud.
With that, she leaned in and kissed Marc’s lips.
“Scrumptious!” she commented as she pulled away. “And the sauce isn’t bad either! Well? What do you think, Marc? Does it need more bay leaf or thyme? ”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2014 5:47:24 GMT -5
As she led him through her home he took in the tasteful furnishings. It did smell quite good. He had been unawares of her talent at cooking. Nodding he watched her for a moment before heeding her request and setting both bottles into the freezer and closing it securely. Ten minutes was a goodly amount of time. He was glad he had been prompt.
He leaned back against the fridge and watched her move effortlessly as she finished the final preparations for their meal. She was a wonder in the kitchen, executing each motion if she were in a delicate dance. It was pleasant to watch her move in the outfit she'd chosen carefully. And it flattered her as well. He hoped he had not overdresed in his oxford and zipped sweater, slacks for the evening.
Placing his arms around her, on either side of her waist he nodded to her request. "Of course, Vicki." He murmured as he sampled the sauce. It was good. As she leaned in, already in his arms he pressed into the kiss, tasting a bit of the sauce on her mouth as well. Pulling away he watched her with a glint in his eyes, the action only a prelude to the rest of their evening.
"I think it needs a bit more of this," his low voice came as he pulled her close with his arms and kissed her again before pulling away barely. "It's fantastic. Perhaps a pinch of red pepper. For the sauce. You seem to have enough spice to you." He insisted.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2014 21:08:22 GMT -5
As Marc broke the kiss, Vicki found herself wanting to go on kissing him, everywhere. With her blue eyes big and soft, she found it almost impossible to keep her lips off his, a fact that made her feel weak and strong simultaneously.
Brushing the knuckles of her right hand across his left cheek, she whispered softly, almost against his lips. “I’ve missed you, Marc. Thank you for being here. It feels so good to be together again.” Then she leaned back so she could see his face. What she saw in his beautiful eyes touched her. Her gaze warmed. “So, are you ready to eat?” she asked, half-smiling. She stayed close, waiting for his answer.
On a deep breath, Vicki turned from Marc and began searching for the red pepper in her spice rack.
“Darling, why don’t you pour the wine for us?” she suggested, speaking over her shoulder. "The glasses are already chilled and on the table in the dining room, along with a wine opener. And the wine stand is filled with ice. I’ll bring out our dinner in a moment.”
With that, Vicki smiled to herself, anticipating that Marc was going to enjoy the meal from start to finish.
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Post by Deleted on May 1, 2014 23:40:17 GMT -5
He supported her as she tilted back, her caress not going unnoticed. He nodded as she asked if he was ready, and relinguished her almost sadly. He was a man, and physical touch was one of the many ways he showed he cared.
He watched her again as she moved about the kitchen adding a bit more spice to their meal before she glanced back at him again. In response he came up behind her and planted a kiss on her jawline before doing as she asked. He was not a man of many words, but of much action. He removed first the bottle of red and moved effortlessly to the wine stand. It was little work to open the bottle with the corkscrew she had provided and easy to pour the wine before setting it in the ice-filled bucket.
It was then he ambled back to where she was preparing their meal before offering his services once more. "Can I help with anything else, Vicki? Wine is settling and ready for you."
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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 13:45:46 GMT -5
The kiss on Vicki's jawline was soft and sure at the same time, and she welcomed Marc’s heat against her cool skin. It took her a few seconds to realize he had stepped away from her and was walking toward the refrigerator. The cold and emptiness he left was a bit shocking.
Turning to watch him, the moment felt surreal to Vicki. She still couldn’t believe she had a boyfriend! When she was caught enjoying the view of him, his sly grin melted her, and the sound of his laugh had her stomach tightening in a warm spiral. God, he was better than food, better than breathing. Vicki was in love, and she loved Marc so much her heart hurt.
As Marc disappeared into the dining room to pour the wine, Vicki returned to her task. She knew they’d be sleeping together. Soon. It was as inevitable as morning.
When Marc returned and asked if he could assist her, Vicki nodded and walked to the refrigerator. “You can put these on the table,” she replied, pulling out two bowls of tossed salad and placing them on a silver serving tray, along with her homemade French vinaigrette salad dressing. Handing him the platter, she winked and added, “Go ahead and be seated. I’ll join you in a minute.”
It was clear that Vicki wanted to work alone. She was doing her best to impress Marc; she wanted the presentation of the meal to be perfect for her dinner guest. Yes, she was a little stressed out, but she refused to give in to the self-induced pressure. With a gentle smile, she thanked Marc and sent him on his way.
Tasting the chicken sauce again, Vicki smacked her lips and set the wooden spoon on the stove. Yes, the dash of red pepper added to its delicious flavor, just like Marc knew it would. Merrily, she garnished the two plates of egg noodles with parsley and cherry tomatoes, after adding the sautéed chicken, vegetables, and sauce. When she finished, the plates looked like they would be appearing on the cover of a food magazine. Vicki was extremely pleased.
A minute later, Vicki served Marc his dinner. “I put the noodles on the side,” she said, setting one of the plates in front of him. “You can mix it all together, if you’d like.” Then she sat down to enjoy the food . . . and the company.
As they began eating, Vicki took a sip of her wine and commented on how much she liked it. Then her eyes twinkled with curiosity, and a coy smile crossed her lips.
“Marc, please tell me something about yourself that I don’t know,” she offered as a dinner conversation starter. “I don’t care if it’s good or bad. I’m not judgmental.”
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2014 12:04:53 GMT -5
His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he awaited her response. He had been raised to help in the kitchen, as it was not just one person eating the meal. So he felt slightly out of place until she responded and handed him the platter. He would do as asked, and set each bowl at the corresponding place setting, as well as the dressing before setting the platter aside.
He would not sit yet, instead taking his wine glass and swirling the liquid inside, taking a sip as he watched her through the door to the kitchen. She was clearly enjoying what she was doing. And why wouldn't she? Most women he had known liked some form of art in the kitchen. It would be peculiar to him to meet a woman who did not enjoy such a hobby.
He set down his glass as she waltzed into the room with both plates of food, the aroma hitting his nostrils quickly. It did smell wonderful. "Thank you. Here, let me." He shifted to pull out her chair for her and making sure she was comfortable before he would settle in his own place and eat as well. It was not quite what his mother made but it was fantastic. He would go about taking a bit of the chicken concoction and several noodles at a time before popping it into his mouth.
"I appreciate the thought, Vicki. This is fantastic. And the wine pairing should go quite well with it. Thank you." As she queried him he had to think. There was a bit she was unawares about him. What could he start with?
"Up until I was about fifteen, I'd never thought I'd leave my family's estate. My father and grandfather then decided to expand the business and brought me into it. As metropolitan as I seem it has come with much trial and error. In truth I am a youth raised in the country." It was a truth.
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2014 22:25:13 GMT -5
After she entered the dining room with their plates, Vicki smiled when Marc pulled out her chair for her. He was such a gentleman! Her cheeks heated with appreciation for his chivalry. She was glad he had a healthy appetite this evening, and that he enjoyed the aroma and taste of the food she had prepared.
Vicki’s eyes were irresistibly drawn to Marc’s as he pondered her question. His mind seemed to be racing in several different directions all at once, as if he were struggling to find just the right thing to say. She occupied her time with listening to the soft background music and tasting the chicken and noodles as she waited patiently for him to share his thoughts.
It was endearing to hear Marc tell about his childhood. Vicki tried to imagine him as a little boy -- what he looked like through the various stages of life as he was growing up in France. From the little bit he shared, she got the impression that family was very important to Marc. She’d always dreamed of marrying and starting a family someday. The possibility of that happening was realistic now more than ever, with Marc in her life, and it brought a smile to the corners of her mouth. She hoped he didn’t feel any discomfort under the directness of her gaze. She was almost sure she could see beyond his words and into his thoughts. Marc had warmth, but he was careful about who received it. Vicki was glad she was one of those special people.
“Life isn’t composed of only our successes,” Vicki commented, sipping her wine. “Our failures motivate us to try again to succeed in the future. They give us a reason to live for tomorrow. I know that’s how it’s been in my own life. I’m no quitter. I welcome and embrace challenges. For me, the darker the path, the brighter the reward is at the end of the experience. Like I’ve always said, ‘There is no joy without pain. No love without risk. No gain without sacrifice.’"
Vicki gave Marc a generous smile. She thought her words sounded like sheer poetry.
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Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2014 4:24:40 GMT -5
He was acutely aware of her gaze on him as he continued to eat after he had responded to her question. There were many things he could have indulged her with but that is what he had chosen. Spiking a perfectly cooked mushroom he followed that up with his wine as he met her gaze head on with no remorse or hesitance.
She was not a wallflower. She was a pert blonde, searching and seeking something. And perhaps she had found it in him. Perhaps he had found something in her. Yes it was only their second date but there was something bright in her that caused him to not be as closed off. And her cooking was fantastic the dish accentuated by the wine selection of a bright red.
Going for his napkin he went to wipe his mouth before she started to speak. He wanted to ask her the same question. "I agree, Vicki. Life is a series of ups and downs. We cannot truly appreciate joy, unless we have experienced pain. Loss is nothing if you have not fully held something prior." He let her words sink in for a moment. She was speaking truth. Love was always a risk. At times it paid off. Others it did not. But there was always a lesson of some sort to be had and taken for the next risk.
"Tell me, Ms. Vale, as we are both quite new to one another's company, what is one new thing I may not be aware of with you? No doubt we will discover many nuances through our upcoming hours in our time together, but how would you come about this platitude?" He could only hope she would not go the standard route and bemoan lost loves of past boyfriends and such ilk. While it was a true reason for love and loss, he'd heard it before. He did not wish for his own plate to cool, so he focused on eating while she came up with a response. It was a good give-and-take.
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Last Edit: May 5, 2014 22:07:47 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2014 20:11:21 GMT -5
It didn’t surprise Vicki at all when Marc threw the question back at her. In fact, she had expected it. Following Marc’s example, she took a few moments to gather her thoughts.
“Hmmm,” she began. “Let’s see . . . Okay. I’ve been working since I was five years old," she answered. "My parents had me appearing in children’s magazine ads before I was in Kindergarten. What can I say? I was a cutie-patootie, and my parents were eager -- and ambitious -- to cash in on that. I appeared in glamour shots promoting everything from expensive clothes and “girl” toys to cereal. By the time I entered high school though, I’d had my fill of it. I found myself preferring to be the one taking the pictures instead of the one posing for them. Today, I consider myself very fortunate to be in a vocation where I can incorporate my love of photography.”
Satisfied with her answer, Vicki paused for a long moment just to enjoy being with Marc. She watched him with big adoring eyes.
“Do you have any hobbies, Marc?” she asked, finally breaking the silence. “I hope you’re not all work and no play. My philosophy is ‘work hard and play hard.’ In that order.”
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