Consequences(20)

After changing her clothes and stuffing her Red Wing T-shirt and jeans back into the locker, she looked at herself in the mirror. Twisting and turning, her uneasiness came out in her reddened cheeks. This wasn’t her. She was jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes. Pushing forward, she added eyeliner, mascara, and lip-gloss. That, accompanied by a quick brush through her hair, was as good as it would get.

Judging by the hoots from both sides of the bar when she entered the front of the Red Wing, she did all right. “Check you out, hot stuff. Where ya going all dolled up?” This flirting tone was one of the many voices from Claire’s manager repertoire.

Feeling playful, she decided to respond all Southern belle, “Why, sir”—the syllables drawn-out—“I don’t know what you mean.” He raised his eyebrows and stared. “Well, goodness gracious, I do have a little ’ole date with a tall, dark, handsome stranger.”

A few minutes later, a shiny black Porsche pulled up to the front of the bar. “See y’all later. Don’t wait up.” The coworkers behind the bar did some more hoot’n and holler’n as Claire smiled and the voices faded into the sounds of the night on the other side of the door.

Anthony got out of the driver’s side. His perfectly tailored light-colored Armani suit validated the purchase of her new black dress. Chivalrously, he kissed her hand and escorted her around to the passenger’s door. At the time, Claire believed that the simple act was the most elegant gesture she’d ever experienced.

Being a four-star authentic Italian restaurant in the heart of Atlanta, Chez Czar had a reputation for being continually booked. Claire wondered how they could possibly have reservations on such short notice; however, as soon as they arrived the hostess greeted them warmly and guided them to a premium table.

When the waiter arrived with menus, Anthony immediately asked for their best bottle of Batasiolo Barolo. After the waiter departed, Claire began to look at the menu. She couldn’t help notice there were no prices. What did that mean? When she looked up from behind the large leather-bound folder, Anthony was looking at her—not his menu. Once again, Claire felt her cheeks flush. “Do you already know what you want?” she asked.

“I believe I do.” He reached for her menu. Claire released it, although she hadn’t had a chance to really see her choices. The whole no price thing had her a little be-fuddled. “And, I can’t see you behind that big menu.” Claire smiled. She’d never met a man like Anthony. She felt like she had his full attention, which was nice, but a little unsettling. When the waiter returned with the wine, he poured a small amount into a glass. Anthony tasted the liquid and replied, “Ahh, yes.” The waiter poured two glasses.

Claire wondered if this was the type of service people talk about on cruise ships. Goodness knows people weren’t treated like this at the Red Wing or Applebee’s for that matter. Before she realized what happened, Anthony had ordered dinner. Tentatively, she replied “Well, thank you.”

“Don’t you like Caesar salad and shrimp linguine?” he asked, dismayed.

“Oh, I do. It’s just, no one has ever ordered for me without first asking me my preference.” Claire thought to herself, But then again, I have never met anyone like you.

The tips of his lips moved upward and his eyes shone. “If you don’t like your food, we can certainly send it back for something else.”

As soon as the linguine arrived at the table and the aroma of garlic and butter penetrated her senses, Claire knew the taste would be even better. When the shrimp touched her tongue, she relished the seasoned flavor. Anthony was incredibly charming and polite. After dinner, as they waited for the valet, he gently placed his arm around her waist. He was much taller than she realized at the Red Wing. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “May I kiss you?”