The Other Side Of Midnight - Page 10

“Autumn,” Larry calls.

I turn my head dazedly towards him.

He raises his eyebrows, and I realize he must have been speaking, but I’ve not heard a word.

Hot color rushes up my throat. “Sorry?” I mumble, totally embarrassed.

He inclines his head so slightly towards the backroom. It would have been imperceptible to anyone else watching, but it finally clicks in my cotton-wool head. What the hell was I doing? I shouldn’t be standing here staring with open-mouthed awe at the Count. I should have scuttled off to the backroom ages ago, and let the two men talk business.

“Please excuse me,” I mutter without meeting the eyes of the Count, and quickly start walking away.

I’ve not even gone two steps, when I hear his voice say, “Don’t go. I’ve come to invite you both to dinner.”

Chapter 8

Autumn

I freeze. I’m not sure if I’ve heard correctly, but when I turn around Larry’s stunned expression is enough to know I have. My knees feel wobbly and my mind is blank. Dinner? Me? Why? My gaze swings past Larry’s comical face towards the Count. He is staring at me with those brilliantly blue eyes.

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Thank God, Larry fills the strange silence in the room. “We’d love to accept.”

The Count’s eyes never leave me. “Are you free tonight?”

“Of course we are,” Larry answers for me.

“Good. Shall we say eight at the Four Seasons?”

“Great. We’ll meet you there,” Larry accepts without consulting me.

“Until then…” The Count bows his head formally at us, then withdraws. The rusty bells chime in the silence he leaves behind.

I exhale the breath I’m holding and I turn to look at Larry. “What was that all about?” I croak.

“You don’t have anything to do tonight, do you?” Larry asks belatedly.

“I was actually going to paint,” I reply tartly.

“Look, I’m sorry. I should have asked you first, but it would have been churlish to refuse his invitation. He is my best customer,” Larry apologizes.

“I think you should go without me.”

“Please come, Autumn. I’ll pay you overtime,” Larry says persuasively.

“It’s not the money. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable. To start with I don’t know him. What will I do while you guys talk business?”

“Have you had dinner at the Four Seasons before?”

It’s the best restaurant for miles around. A famous New York Chef opened it many years ago. In the beginning people wondered why anyone, let alone such a bigwig in the culinary world, would open such a fine restaurant in such a rural place. Who would come and pay his inflated prices, but it turned out he made a wise decision. People will always come and pay for extraordinary service and food. I’ve even heard that it’s hard to get a table there.

“No,” I admit. “My wages don’t reach to meals that costs hundreds of dollars per head.”

“Well,” Larry says, slipping seamlessly into sales mode, “this is your opportunity to eat there. I should tell you that their rib-eye steak is indescribably wonderful. The best I’ve ever had. They use only grass-fed beef, and it literally melts in your mouth. It is served with a creamy French peppercorn sauce. I have no idea how it is made, but it’s like silk on your tongue.”

My mouth drops with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you trying to bribe me with food, Larry?”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully.

“Actually, it is… a bit. That creamy sauce did catch my attention.”

Larry sees that he has drawn blood and really goes for it. “Yeah? Well, let me tell you about the dessert. They have this rich chocolate fudge cake, which they serve warm with the most luxurious Cornish ice cream from England you’ve ever tasted. As if that was not enough a waiter actually comes around and pours melted warm gooey chocolate from a tiny jar onto your slice. It’s absolutely to die for.”

I start laughing.

We both know he has won, but he is not finished. Larry likes to be sure of his victories. “And for the starter you have their signature dish. Smoked duck served with the freshest, most delicious pomegranate, walnut and rocket salad you have ever tasted.”

“Stop,” I plead, my empty stomach rumbling.

“Will you come, Autumn? As a favor to me.”

“To be honest I would come just for that chocolate cake and gooey sauce, but I honestly have nothing to wear to a place like that, Larry. My wardrobe consists of t-shirts, sweatshirts and jeans. And all the shops are already shut by now.”

He frowns and is silent for a moment and I can almost hear the gears in his brain working. When he finds the solution to his predicament, his whole face glows like a light bulb. “You are the same size as my wife’s niece, Jenna. I’ll get her to bring a few dresses for you to try on. Would that be all right?”

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