Chapter 18

 

Gabriel

 

She looks beautiful. That dress is stunning on her, but I didn’t say a word.  Don’t ask me why. I’m usually quite liberal with my compliments but, for some reason, I hold back with her.  It could be that I find her endearing and engaging; something I haven’t felt about a date––ever.  It could also be no one can kiss like her. I think I’m in unchartered territory with Lexie, by the way, she makes me feel, and that’s something I’ve never experienced with a woman before.

“Shall we?” I say extending my hand toward her door.  She grabs that hideous coat and stomps to the door.  It appears Miss Cartwright has a sassy side.

“Sure.”

I can’t help noticing when I suggest we ‘leave her coat in the car again tonight’ that she’s not pleased. I see her jaw flex and a little grunt sound coming from her, but she doesn’t argue. I follow her out her front door and watch her engage the deadbolt.  As we descend her steps, I look at her back and wish she wasn't wearing the enormous parka so I could admire her figure.

Opening the back door of the limo, she slides into the seat moving all the way to the other side of the car.  Fine with me. I slide in and scoot all the way over until we’re sitting hip to hip.  She attempts to scoot away, but the door is blocking her. “Care for some champagne this evening?”

“Better not. Isn’t this a work meeting or something?”

“Or something.  Potential clients.  I’m trying to get them to hire me to design their new office structure.”

“Office structure?”

“A forty-eight story office structure with restaurants, shops, leasable office spaces, as well as some residential spaces.”

“Like our building?”

“Exactly. Only mine will be beautiful.”

“Our building isn’t ugly.”

I shrug. “No, but it isn’t beautiful.”

“Why don’t you design a new building for yourself?”

“I already have. I’m not ready to pull the trigger on that, so to speak.”

“Oh.”

I watch her slip out of her large winter coat then fidget with her dress. Peering down at her lap, I see her skirt has ridden up her thighs. So much so I catch a glimpse of the top of a stocking and a clip from her garter. Jesus, is the woman wearing garters and stockings?  I noticed in her apartment that she’s again wearing hosiery with the seam up the back of her leg. Little Lexie has a sexy side.

I groan when she moves her dress down covering up what has to be the sexiest thigh I’ve ever seen.  Sure, it’s much bigger than I’m used to seeing but that doesn’t seem to mean a damn thing to my cock. No matter how much I protest intellectually, my dick is pretty happy with tonight’s revelation. Down boy.

As soon as Eric pulls up in front of the restaurant, he steps out to open our door. I take Lexie’s hand in mine and pull her with me out the door onto the sidewalk. There’s a long, boldly striped awning or Porte-cochère made of canvas that extends out from the front door of Chez Paul to the street. 

At the entrance, a doorman opens the front doors for us, and we step inside. “Wow,” she says in a breathy voice. “This place is beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

She turns and peers up at me. “You designed this?”

“I did. Many years ago but it’s nice to know it still packs a punch,” I chuckle. She nods, so I continue, “I was inspired by the French countryside, to a more feminine palette filled with light and sparkle. I attempted to bring that to light using a montage of gilt-framed mirrors, open-shelved bottles, elegant light fixtures and a series of cabinets that showcase the owner’s collection of vintage French glassware and curio cabinets while creating intimate dining alcoves. There are glass doors that we refer to as French doors that enclose each dining alcove.  The intention was to make you feel like you’re in a lovely French Château.”

I pause to look at Lexie to be sure she understands what I’m saying, but she’s not paying attention to me. Instead, she’s talking to the hostess.  I harrumph because, damn it, she should be listening to me; not talking to a restaurant employee. 

Lexie must have heard me because she turns back to me, “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just asking her where the ladies room was.”

“No problem,” I shrug. It’s fine. Really. I mean, I designed the fucking place. I could have told her where the restrooms were located. I shrug again. Okay, yeah, my pride is a little hurt that she isn’t blown away by my work but whatever. I didn’t even get to the good parts––like the muted achromatic color choices or the whimsical fabric choices like seersucker and toile I selected or the reasons for it. And let’s not forget about the ceiling, an open coffered design made of pine, for this space.  It’s ingenious. Nope, little Miss Lexie could care less.