Bonnie
Bonnie descended the beautiful grand staircase and felt as regal as Scarlett O'Hara meeting Rhett Butler. Dylan waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes on her as she came down, step by step. He wore dark dress pants and a dark gray dress shirt that showed off his shoulders and trim waist. He looked good enough to eat.
“Wow,” he said as held out his hand for her. “You look beyond amazing.”
She grinned. “You have good taste,” she told him. “Thank you for the dress.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, holding out his arm. “This way to dinner.”
She rested her hand on his forearm as they walked. She could get used to this, she decided. She could get used to an elegant life with him. They stepped outside and into what Bonnie would classify as the backyard, but it was less backyard and more magical fairy garden.
A small stone fountain gurgled in the center with neat paving stones leadin
g off into different paths. The scent of magnolias was thick on the humid air, and the hum of insects and birds were music. She didn't feel hot though. It was the perfect temperature to sit out and drink something cold.
Dylan guided her to a small table and chairs set off to the side. White linen tablecloths with white china and polished silver sat waiting with two flickering candles as accents. Dylan pulled out her chair like a true southern gentleman before sitting himself.
“This is beautiful,” Bonnie whispered, looking around the garden. Everything was lush and green. The hum of insects filled the air, but none buzzed around her. She suspected Dylan had something nearby to repel them and keep their evening comfortable.
“So, tonight's meal is all my favorite foods from New Orleans,” Dylan told her. “I hope you like them.”
“I'm sure I will love them,” she assured him. “You haven't given me a bad meal yet.”
He grinned. “First up, oysters Rockefeller.”
A man in a waiter's uniform came up to their table and carefully deposited a large silver tray in the center for the two of them to split. He then poured each of them a glass of wine.
“Wow.” Bonnie took a sip of her wine and watched the waiter. “You really went all out.”
Dylan shrugged. “It was fun to set up. Now, try them. I'm curious to see what do you think.”
She reached for an oyster shell. It smelled amazing, even if it looked a little strange and green. She used her fork to put the oyster in her mouth and sighed with pleasure. The oyster was baked in butter and covered in what Bonnie suspected was breadcrumbs and herbs. It melted in her mouth with richness.
“That's delicious,” she said, reaching for another.
Dylan grinned. “A New Orleans restaurant came up with them over a hundred years ago. They were so rich, they had to be named after the richest man at the time.” He reached for one of the half shells. “Thus, oysters Rockefeller.”
“They are amazing,” she said, happily taking another half shell. “I don't usually go for oysters, but these are really good.”
“I'm glad you like them,” he replied, a pleased grin filling his face as he watched her enjoy the food.
She paused. “Are you trying to seduce me, Dylan Abbott?” she asked. “I mean, oysters are an aphrodisiac.”
“Maybe,” he replied with a confident grin. “And we're only on the appetizer.”
She laughed and reached for another.
“You ate this growing up?” she asked, as they finished off the plate of oysters. “This doesn't seem like kid food.”
“I didn't like these until I was in high school,” Dylan admitted. “We would come out here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. My dad would pick up oysters at the market on our way here just for PawPaw to make these. They always make me think of holidays now.”
Bonnie watched as Dylan's eyes went distant with the memory of his father.
“You miss him,” she said softly. Dylan's dark eyes came back to her.
“Yes.” He sighed. “We butted heads a fair amount, but he was a good dad. He just wanted the best for me.”
"Is he the one who taught you how to work on cars?" she asked, sipping her wine. It was light and complimented the oysters well.