*****
We had agreed that he would pick me up at around 7 that night, and we would go for a walk before dinner. I had to ask where he was taking me, but he only said that I would like it.
Why couldn't he just tell me? How was I supposed to know how to dress?
I sighed, checking myself with a scrutinizing eye in the mirror.
I'll just end up looking ridiculous, I thought, just as my phone started ringing.
“Hey. Yes, I'll be right down.”
From the mirror, an average-looking black girl was eyeing me, her expression saying, “Girl, you're gonna make a fool of yourself.” And I agreed.
Tiptoeing to my shoes, I tried not to get too concerned with my appearance. After all, if he had just told me where we were going, I wouldn't have looked out of place.
“God, I'm making things up. I haven't even seen the place!” I chastened myself.
I took a deep breath and left my tiny apartment. In the street, I paused.
“Oh, Lord. I'm not even dressed for his car,” I thought, trying to keep my mouth closed at the Rolls Royce parked at the curb.
As I walked closer, he stepped out of the driver's side, his body the template God used to make angels. I was an above-average woman in height, but I felt tiny next to his frame, even with my high heels on.
I looked up at him, taking in his smart, casual attire and feeling that I lacked everything in comparison.
“Hi,” he greeted me. “You look lovely tonight.”
I barely stifled a snort, in my head saying “As if.”
“Thank you. You look very good yourself.”
God, that smile!
“Shall we?” he asked, pointing to the car.
I nodded and went for the passenger door. I wasn't surprised when he stepped in front of me to open the car door. He just looked like the type.
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to pull my little black dress down discreetly.
He smiled. “You don't really like not knowing, do you?”
“Not really, no. I'm not one for surprises.”
“Alright. Well, we're going to take a walk through a lovely garden until our meals are ready. You can even play in the water, if you want.”
“Really?” I asked, waving a hand over my lap as if to say “Have you seen what I'm wearing?”
I felt blood rushing to my face. And between my legs, when he followed my hand and let his gaze linger on my thighs. I swallowed hard.
We spent the rest of the drive in silence, me trying to compose myself, him just looking gorgeous.
Shortly, we arrived at a gate guarded by a heavyset black man. The man nodded at Peter and motioned for the gate to open. I wondered where we were.
We drove some more on a cobblestone road, tall trees obscuring the view on both sides. He finally stopped the car in front of a small, one-story building. Out of nowhere, a valet came and caught his keys. I got out of the car before he could open the door for me again.
“What is this?” I asked, not knowing how this could be considered any sort of restaurant.
“It's a private club sort of thing,” he answered casually, taking my hand. I felt heat gathering in a swirl in my stomach and struggled to breathe for a second.
To my surprise, we didn't go inside. He guided me around the building and onto a terrace with wrought-iron tables, some a bit rusty even. A delicate light was coming from the floor on every side of the wooden deck. Most surprising of all, though, was the old tree growing right in the middle of everything. I was so amazed, I couldn't stop grinning.
“I'm glad you like it,” I heard him behind me, so close I could feel the buttons of his shirt on my bare skin. My lungs malfunctioned for a second, as I fought the urge to lean back against him, forget about anywhere else but this magical place.
The place was completely deserted and it took me a while to realize there was some discreet background music floating through the air. It was just too quiet to be real.
He took his hands off my waist and showed me to a table in the middle of the terrace, just under the delightfully aromatic tree. I had never seen anything like it.
“Would you like if we sat here?” he asked, pulling out a chair.
“Aren't we going to take a walk first?”
He chuckled. “Of course. I thought you might've wanted to get the feel of this place before that.”
“Oh, I got the feel, alright. It's gorgeous. And a bit too much for a first date, don't you think?”
He shrugged, which made me let out a laugh. “You don't look like the type who knows how a normal first date looks,” I said, shaking my head in amusement.
“What's wrong with this, then?”
His face was precious. I couldn't stop laughing. “Nothing's wrong. It's perfect. Too perfect.”
“Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!” he warned me, pushing my chair back under the table.
“Oh, really? Using all your ammunition on me, then?”
“Well, when I want something, I make sure I get it.”
“For your information, Mr. Piotr, I don't fall that easily for anyone, wealthy or otherwise. I have to like the person before the flashy things.”
“Then I shall make it my mission to show you the person behind all these flashy things. Although, I think this particular place doesn't look too flashy. I believe they aimed for a serene and earthy feel, don't you think?”
I laughed and he followed.
“OK, mister. Where do we get our serene and earthy food, then? I'm starving.”
With a discreet flick of his wrist, he summoned out of thin air a short man dressed like a high-end cook. He didn't have any menus but looked like he was expecting us to order nonetheless. I glanced at Peter.
“He can make anything. Just tell him what you want.”
“No way,” I blurted out.
“Yes way,” the man answered and I could guess a French accent somewhere.
“OK. Then, how about a burger. Can you do such peasantly food?” I challenged.
“There's nothing peasantly about a good burger,” the cook said and I agreed wholeheartedly. “Shall I make it regular or Kobe beef?”
“Kobe. And make two. Garnish it with anything you want,” Peter ordered.
The small man nodded and left us.
“Walk?” Peter asked, offering me his arm.
“Sure.”
He guided me back down the wooden steps and onto a cobblestone paved alley that turned out to be a bit too much for my feet. I ended up barefoot, walking on the grass beside the pavement.
“What is it?” he asked, hearing my sigh.
I shook my head. “This is actually amazing.”
“Oh. Did you have low expectations for tonight?”
“Kind of. I mean, I didn't know what to expect, but certainly what I had in mind was way flashier than this. I was obviously mistaken.”
“It's alright. I'm not your typical Russian mobster. Or so they keep telling me.”
I felt embarrassed. He had figured out I knew and was making fun of me for fitting him into a stereotype.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…”
“No need to apologize. I can tell you haven't had much contact with this sort of…life.”
“You can tell, huh?”
I stepped back at his side, slipping a hand in his.
“Yes. Mainly from your impression that we're all sons of Mother Russia.”
His forced heavy accent made me laugh so suddenly, I almost snorted.
“So, you're not?” I asked, after recovering.
“Oh, we are, alright. But I was just saying…”
“Oh, my God, tonight is going to be amazing,” I said, sincerely happy about the prospect.
“You think?” he asked. I nodded. He stopped abruptly and lifted my chin so I could look into his devilishly blue eyes.
“The other reason I figured you weren't used to having Russian mobsters around is that, if you were, I would’ve made sure we.
“Oh?” I couldn't say more, I felt I was drowning in happiness.
“Yeah. Because if I saw you around, I would've taken you.”
Oh, Lord.