Chapter 7

The next few days were incredible. If she had thought just having Paul in the shop, sitting in his little corner with his drink had been thrilling, it was nothing compared to how it felt to have him working by her side. She imagined that this must be how her mother had felt for years coming to work with her father, and she realized that she had no reason not to ask them to fill in from time to time. Each morning, Paul showed up in a simple t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. It was amazing how much younger he looked when not all cinched up in a business suit.

As great as it was to have him there, she knew it was only to help until she could find someone. She hired a guy from her culinary class named Josh. He was handsome, charming, and needed a little extra cash. He would be a great asset for bringing in some of the younger girls around the area. Plus, he would be a fantastic addition for helping her with the pastries, and perhaps conjuring up some innovative ideas. He agreed to start on Monday, so she was grateful to have that off her plate prior to her big date with Paul.

Susan was a bundle of nerves by the time Saturday arrived. She had tried on and rejected at least a dozen outfits the night before, finally settling on a simple floral shift and some strappy sandals. The following morning, she was up early, packing her makeup kit and some hair pins, and then hurrying off to the shop to open it up for the morning. It was going to be a long day filled with anticipation.

When closing rolled around, Susan was on pins and needles just waiting for Paul to walk through the door. His timing was impeccable, showing up just as she had sent everyone home and was about to lock the front door. He looked fantastic in a simple pair of khakis and a red polo shirt as he walked in the door of the shop and she closed it behind him, turning the key in the lock.

“You are right on time! Let me get changed, and I will be ready to go. Do you want something to drink while you wait?” she asked.

“No, I’m good. I’ll just have a seat in my usual spot while you do what you need to do,” he told her with a smile.

“Great. Don’t go anywhere, and stay out of the flour,” she said.

“I can’t go anywhere. You locked me in. No promises on the flour,” he laughed.

“Right.”

She smiled, heading off to the back bathroom to get changed. Her heart raced in her chest at the thought of spending an evening alone with him. It was like a daydream come true. She hurried, not wanting to make him wait too long or have him think she was one of those prissy women who spent hours getting ready while a man waited for her. Inspecting herself as best she could in the small mirror of the employee restroom, she determined that she looked pretty good and sighed deeply before exiting back into the hallway that led up to the front of the shop. She found him there in his usual seat, looking out the window at passersby.

“You look stunning,” he told her as he turned to face the sound of her approaching footsteps.

“Why, thank you,” she replied.

He stood and they walked out together, Susan pausing to lock up the shop before making her way down the sidewalk by his side.

“We’re about to have the best food in town,” he told her.

Susan nodded approvingly, though she was confused by the direction in which they were going. It seemed as if they were going away from all the trendy restaurants and into the more residential area near where they lived. Susan was surprised to find herself in front of a large building of private flats. She knew it wasn’t the building that the cab had dropped Paul off at previously, so what was this place?

Her questions were answered when a small, older woman opened the door, beaming broadly at Paul, greeting him as “Mr. Brennan” in somewhat broken English. Her French accent permeated each word she spoke as she invited them in and directed them toward the large table of people in the center of the room. Susan was completely confused by the situation, but went along and took the seat she was offered. A beautiful adolescent girl came by and asked what she would like to drink and Paul intervened, ordering a glass of white wine for each of them.

“You do drink wine, don’t you?” he asked.

Susan realized that all he had ever seen her drink was coffee, so he wouldn’t know. She also realized just how little they knew about one another, and she wondered what sort of man took a girl to what appeared to be a large gathering of his friends when it was their first date. Surely, most men would have chosen someplace more intimate and cozy? Perhaps he did not intend for this to be romantic, and it was just his way of apologizing for being drunk and disorderly in her shop.

“Yes, wine is great,” she said.

She had a feeling she might need a little bit of wine to calm her hurt feelings at this point. The woman who had answered the door said something in French to a man at the end of the table, and he nodded toward her, turning to the table and introducing himself. Each person followed suit until they made their way around to Susan, who still looked unraveled by all of this.

“Introduce yourself, Susan,” Paul prompted her quietly.

She heard herself saying her name and telling them she owned the Central Perk coffee shop by the park, which garnered several nods and smiles of approval from faces that looked somewhat familiar now that she looked at them closer. Paul made the final introduction, and several people emerged from nearby doors with platters, plates, and glasses filled with food and wine.

“Who are these people, Paul?” she whispered quietly, bringing a smile to his face.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you upfront, but I wanted to see your reaction to the novelty of this place. The lady who answered the door is Madame Marguerite de Bouchard, and this is her home. The servers are members of her family. She opens up her home twice each week to cook an authentic meal for strangers,” he said.

“Oh, wow. How unusual,” Susan marveled, suddenly impressed by the woman’s initiative.

Among the people who routinely came to her coffee shop, she had stumbled across the likes of Madame Bouchard from time to time. They made do in unusual ways during a bad economy.

“I learned about her through some of my neighbors. She does a lunch during the week and this dinner on Saturdays. She is a Paris-trained chef who came to live here with her husband. When he lost his job, she began doing this to help with bills, and now that he is back on his feet, she continues to do it. She calls it a ‘rainy day fund’ that keeps her from worrying about money,” he said.

Susan beamed at him as a young man, who she assumed was Madame Bouchard’s son, poured them each a glass of wine. After that, the dinner commenced with steaming plates of fine French faire like Susan had never tasted. Of course, she had never spent any time in expensive French restaurants. She was on a strict budget, especially with only recently having moved from her parents’ house into her own place.

Dinner was great, with incredible food and conversation between her and Paul, as well as the other people around the table. They were from all sorts of occupations and backgrounds, but they chatted like old friends. Susan wondered if Madame Bouchard and her guests were aware of what a perfect networking platform she had created with her rainy-day meals, as she had already met two people who could help her with needs at the shop and several more that indicated they hadn’t been there or hadn’t been there in a while, but they would now stop by because they had met her.

Then, there was Paul. She now knew that he was a freelance financial consultant for many of the large corporations in the New York area. It explained the suits and the ability to sit in her coffee shop for hours, working from his tethered laptop. He told her that he was very good at what he did and in high demand. Susan smiled at how cocky he seemed when he talked about his job. It wasn’t so much bragging as it was pride in his work. Their conversation drifted toward a discussion of what they wanted for their futures, but was interrupted by service of the very decadent desserts offered by their host.

Once dinner ended, they found themselves back out in front of the flat, discussing what to do next. Paul suggested some music at a nearby jazz club, but Susan felt brazen, offering him a night cap at her new apartment instead. He seemed hesitant at first. She considered that she might be pushing him. Was she pushing him? Maybe it was too much, too soon, for them to be in such close quarters with one another.

“I’d love that,” he said. “Lead the way.”

They walked arm in arm down the sidewalk toward her place. The weather today was perfect – one of those balmy summer nights that beckoned you to long walks or sitting out in the fresh air, enjoying the sounds of the city. She was sure that her place wasn’t nearly as nice as his and almost felt compelled to apologize for her meager accommodations, but decided against it. Her life had changed quite a bit in the past year – all for the better – and this was just one more step on her way to getting back all she had lost. She didn’t want to appear uncertain to him.

“Here we are,” she said as they approached the brownstone filled with small one-bedroom apartments, one of which she called home.

“Wow, you only live a few blocks away. We can hang out all the time!” he said.

Susan smiled, but inside, she wondered about his choice of words. He made it sound like they were going to be buddies, and she had hoped for so much more than that. Perhaps he was just playing things down, but she found herself trying to put the feelings that had begun to develop for him in check.

“We sure can,” she said, placing a key in the lock of the lower door to gain access. They walked up a flight of stairs to her place, and she unlocked the door, waving him inside as she reached around the doorframe to flip the light switch inside.

“What a great old place,” he commented, looking around at the pre-war dwelling.

The place was old, but quaint, and it was all the space she needed. Her parents had been afraid of letting her go, but she was determined to finally live out on her own and they had conceded, helping her rent this small apartment and providing the moving services to relocate her things to her new home. She and her mother had decorated it with overstuffed furniture and rich, cozy colors. It had more of a ‘cabin in the woods’ feel to it than a New York apartment look.

“Do you want something to drink? I’m afraid I don’t really have any liquor, but I have some red wine that I got as a housewarming gift,” she told him.

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” he told her, walking toward where she stood at the kitchen counter. Both seemed to have abandoned the notion of having come here for a drink in the first place.

“Okay. Well, I guess we can have a seat on the sofa and talk or maybe find an old movie on the television,” she said, but her words were cut off as his arms circled her waist, pulling her toward him. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that sent electricity bolting through her veins. Her body melted against his in unspoken agreement to any offers he was about to extend. She felt the warmth of his kiss spiral in all directions as her body welcomed him. She felt on fire again, as she had when he had kissed her before.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled away.

Then his lips were on hers again, kissing her hungrily as their tongues danced a tango to a tune that only they seemed to hear. The fire that raged through her body was quickly stoked into a five-alarm blaze by his kisses. They tugged at one another’s clothes, eager to feel one another’s flesh. She panted breathlessly as his kisses trailed down her neck and along the soft curves of her breasts, his mouth finding its way to one of her nipples and licking at it softly as every nerve ending in her body suddenly came alive with the electricity sparked by his touch. She could feel his words against her skin as she kissed his way across her body.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he breathed against her skin as they danced toward her bedroom and fell across the bed, their bodies pressed against one another. She could feel his erection pressing into her flesh as her body became consumed by desire. It had never been like this for her before. This aching need for release consumed her.

“I’ve wanted you, too,” she panted as his skilled tongue found its way to her aching clit and soft, velvet folds.

His hands held hers down on the bed as she squirmed beneath his hot mouth on her moist center. He lapped softly at her clit, taking his time to enjoy the way she tasted and smelled while he teased her gently. The tingling sensation in her limbs dissipated, replaced by powerful explosives that threatened to detonate at any moment. She hoped her inexperience wouldn’t show as her body took over and responded to his.

She moaned loudly, enjoying the way he suckled at her throbbing clit, now incredibly sensitive from his eager tongue’s slow, sensual manipulations. There was no holding back as he quickly brought it home, lapping wildly at her center, until her body contorted and then shattered into a million pieces. It was if every nerve ending inside suddenly exploded at once. He didn’t show any signs of slowing down as multiple orgasms rocked her violently until she was left with nothing to give.

Not done with her yet, Paul returned to his lazy exploration of her skin, kissing her thighs and hips as he moved back up her body. His soft lips grazed lightly across her skin as he found his way back to her lips, kissing her softly and burying his face in her hair. He moaned her name in her ear as he entered her, causing her to sigh deeply as she felt him pushing against her inner walls. All she could feel was this moment in time, with him inside of her, claiming her as his own.

“Yes…oh, my God,” she moaned.

He made love to her slowly, looking down into her eyes as their hips met in a slow grind against one another, enjoying the way their bodies fit together in such a perfect union. He took away the ache that she had felt for so long. The part of her body that had wanted him finally satisfied that he was now exactly where he belonged. It was only the two of them here now, and nothing else mattered.

The slow friction of his lovemaking was as beautiful as he was as they looked into each other’s eyes. Their quiet moans of pleasure echoed throughout the room in perfect harmony, their coupling increasing in volume and rhythm. No longer able to hold back, their passion reached a crescendo as Paul’s thrusts became more aggressive, taking what he wanted from her as he whispered her name repeatedly and groaned wildly with pleasure.

“Susan, Susan…God, you feel so wonderful. I love the way you feel,” he moaned against her skin as she thrust her delicate hips upward to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts inside of her.

“Yes, Paul. Yes…please. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” she begged.

“I won’t. I’m all yours,” he panted as their sweat-laden bodies met time and time again. His hips suddenly slammed forward and locked into her as he shuddered with the force of his release inside of her. It sent a final shockwave through her body that ended in a low moan preceding a series of eruptions in response to their passion.

They lay against one another for a while, not speaking, just enjoying being there together. After a while, they drifted off into a deep sleep in each other’s arms. They awoke early the next morning and took their time making love again in the shower. It was everything that Susan had ever dreamed of with a man – from the soft thoughtfulness, to the rough way he had handled her in the height of his passion. She smiled as she washed his back gently, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he reached for the shampoo.