Page 7 of Secret Desire
“Chantelle’s, it’s in Evanston,” she replied, referring to a suburb just north of the city.
“We’re going all the way to Evanston for lunch?” I asked.
There had to be hundreds of restaurants in downtown Chicago we could go to.
“It’s only half an hour to get there,” she said dismissively. “You can update me on your work this week while we go.”
“Okay then,” I said, settling in across from her. The seats were buttery soft leather, and I sank back with a sigh. It was like sitting on a supportive cloud.
“Do you want a drink?” Maeve asked, gesturing to a little refrigerator she’d just opened.
It was stocked with an assortment of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. I was tempted to ask for some alcohol to take the edge off my sudden nerves at being in an enclosed space with Maeve, but I didn’t want to look unprofessional. I’d already been called ‘Ariel’s little sister’ multiple times this month by my new coworkers. It was annoying.
“I’ll have a sparkling water please.”
Maeve handed me a can, then took one for herself before opening up the leather folio she carried everywhere. My boss was old school, she liked to write on a legal pad, not type on a laptop. I was pretty sure her poor assistant later scanned those notes for her.
We kept the conversation focused on business as we rode to the restaurant. Maeve had a great memory and was very detail oriented, but I was able to answer every question.
“You’re learning quickly,” Maeve said as we pulled up to the restaurant. “Your excellent reputation is well earned, I see.”
“Did you doubt it?” I asked curiously. “I mean, I know you all think of me as a kid still, but…”
“I don’t think of you as a kid,” Maeve interrupted.
Her gaze bounced down my body and when it returned to my face, she looked troubled. “Not at all.”
The driver opened the door and she slid out of the limo while I definitely did not watch how the movement made her skirt slide high up her toned legs.
Get it together Ashley,I chastised myself.This is a business meeting. Stop thinking about wearing those thighs as earmuffs.
Partway through lunch, our business meeting started feeling more like a date. To me anyway.
The restaurant obviously catered to the area’s wealthy class. Everything was high end, from the real crystal water glasses to the original artwork on the walls. My family had enough money that I was accustomed to dining at high end restaurants, but this place was on another level. A level so far up you couldn’t even see it from my family’s level. As we walked through the restaurant I recognized a U.S. Senator, a famous singer who’d just completed a worldwide mega tour, and the Chicago mayor sitting at different tables.
Maeve and I were shown to a booth in the back, the high-backed seats creating a private space around us. As soon as we sat down, the hostess poured us each a glass of water and placed our napkins in our laps.
“There are no prices on the menu,” I said, perusing my options.
“You have to be a member to eat here,” Maeve said with a quick glance up from her own menu. “The menu changes every day, but everything is delicious.”
I was glad that Maeve had already told me that lunch was on her. I had a feeling I could never afford this place.
“Would you like a bottle of wine, Ms. Winters?” the waiter asked. I hadn’t even heard him approach, maybe because this place had the thickest carpet I’d walked on in my life.
Maeve raised her eyebrows at me, and I shook my head.
“Wine makes me sleepy.”
“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” she told the waiter.
He looked at me. “Rum and coke please, with easy ice.”
The waiter faded away again like he was a ghost in a movie.
“What are you going to have?” Maeve asked.
“I think the steak salad,” I said. “What about you?”
