Page 19 of Romanced By the Rat
Even with my improved skills, I’m still tasked with closing down the restaurant. I’m the last one here, but Charlotte should arrive any minute. My side work is done, but I leave one table perfectly set up, complete with a rose centerpiece and a steaming plate of ratatouille. Two plates and glasses of Pinot Noir sit in front of each chair. I light the candle, placing it next to the rose right as Charlotte walks through the front door. “Jeremy?”
“Right here!” I call, waving at her once she catches me.
She’s stunning as usual, wearing a simple light blue dress that highlights the creaminess of her skin. “What is this?” she asks, a smile creeping at the corner of her full lips.
“I didn’t think my apology at your apartment was good enough. I thought it might be nice to have a private dinner together. I got it cleared by my manager.” Ramsay would be proud of my thoughtfulness, and of course, there’s a part of me hoping he’s watching.
She erases the distance between us, placing her small hands on my chest and bringing her lips to mine. “You’re so thoughtful.” I don’t miss the way her eyes search the top of my head before returning to my gaze. I want to confirm that this plan was all my doing, but I don’t want to ruin the moment. I pull out the chair next to me, motioning for her to sit. I place a white napkin on her lap and push her in before taking a seat across from her.
“This is so nice,” she says before bringing the wine glass to her lips. I copy her, drinking down the liquid, wishing it were a Diet Coke instead, but pretending to enjoy it. We stare at each other, our eyes darting. Charlotte brings the glass to her lips again.
“I…”
“Do…” We both speak at the same time. Awkward laughter ensues. “You go first,” I say.
“No, I was just going to ask if you like ratatouille.”
“Oh!” I stare down at the delicately arranged vegetables in the middle of the table. “Sure.” I shrug. Everything at Ratcliff’s is delicious, but ratatouille would probably be my last choice. “I know it’s your favorite.”
She nods. “Yeah. To be fair, I haven’t tried much else on the menu.”
“Next time I’ll have the chef make us something else.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to sound like I wasn’t happy with the ratatouille.”
“No, I know.”
She takes another large sip. More uncomfortable silences pass between us. It’s never been like this before. It’s usually effortless. It’s obvious why, though. This is our first date without Ramsay.
Charlotte sighs. “Can I just say something?”
Thank God. “Yeah, of course.”
“When I first found out about Ramsay watching and guiding you, I was really freaked out.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry…”
“But after talking to him, I could understand how you came to the conclusion to include him.”
“Really?”
She grabs my hand from across the table. “I’m not saying that anything is wrong with just you, though. This is nice.”Sure, but nice won’t get her panties wet,I think to myself. “But he’s just so commanding, so sure of himself, even as a rat.” I don’t miss the dreamy filter that drops over her eyes. “I don’t blame you for accepting his help.”
“You don’t?”
She shakes her head. There’s still something there, something we’re both not saying. We study each other, waiting for the other to break.
“Well, Ramsay left me a note last night, letting me know that he would leave us alone.”
“Do you ask him to do that?”
“No. I assumed after his conversation with you, he felt like that was what you wanted.”
“What do you want?” She leans forward.
“I want you.”
“That’s it?”
