Читать книгу A Greek Affair - Linn Halton B. - Страница 14

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover

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After a long Skype session with Rosie and an hour on social media, I can’t wait to hit the shower.

I am excited and in a good mood, but it is rather lonely. I’m used to sharing pretty much everything with Rosie and it feels odd to be away from home for a few days without her. She would have loved this entire experience, but school is more important and she’ll thank me for honouring that principle when she’s older. I hope.

It’s rather daunting now that I’m ready as there are seven very different styles of restaurant onboard. Leafing through the details in the handbook I decide to opt for the chic, Parisian fine dining located on deck ten, aft. Aft? Well, it might take a little while for me to get my bearings, that’s for sure.

I head out to the elevator and it’s easy enough to find the right deck. As I’m not sure where exactly the restaurant is located, I’m going to tag along behind a small group of people who look like they are dressed for a very special dining experience. I was worried my second-best posh frock would be a little over the top, but now I’m relieved as it isn’t at all out of place. The silky, knee-length lilac dress is simple but it stands out. My hair is twisted up and pinned on top, to complement the open back that falls just above my waistline in a cowl. It’s elegant, easy to wear and, thankfully, doesn’t crease. The dress might not make the woman, but it certainly gives this woman a much-needed confidence boost.

La Maison Chapelle is indeed very chic and has that old-world sense of romantic elegance about the décor. I wait in the small queue, hoping they will be able to find me a table because I didn’t have time to make a reservation.

‘We are pretty full tonight, I’m afraid. If you are happy to wait about forty-five minutes then I’m sure I can get a table ready for you, Madam.’ The young woman addressing me is wearing a very smart black waistcoat over a crisp, white shirt. With tapered black trousers and a black apron, she looks every inch a Parisian waitress. But her accent indicates she’s probably from New York and that makes me smile.

‘Thank you, that would be lovely.’ I turn on my heels and there, in front of me is Harrison, smiling.

‘Actually, I have a reservation for eight o’clock and Ms Castelli is with me. Harrison Buchanan.’

‘Ah, Mr Buchanan, of course. Please step this way.’

I flash him a grateful smile and he indicates for me to go ahead of him. We are shown to a corner table for two and Harrison insists that he sit with his back to the room.

‘You have to see what’s going on if you’re going to be making notes.’ He grins at me.

‘How did you know I would be here?’ I ask, rather cautiously awaiting his answer.

‘I didn’t. I love French food and I booked a table as soon as I arrived. But then I’ve eaten here before on Vista Blue’s maiden voyage. I like the ambience but I will be honest and say that I wasn’t relishing the thought of eating alone.’

Now I feel guilty.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t trying to put you off earlier on. I simply felt that I’m not really going to be good company. Plus, I’m feeling kind of overwhelmed by the size of the ship, if I’m being honest with you. I had no idea of the real scale involved and thought I could aimlessly wander around to discover everything I needed to see.’

It takes us a few minutes to decide on a bottle of wine and peruse the menu. It all looks good and we both go for the terrine of foie gras. I decide upon the coquille Saint Jacques sea scallops and Harrison orders the beef ribs.

‘Yes, it can take a while to find your way around,’ he remarks.

I’m trying not to stare at him so I let my eyes drift around the restaurant, taking in the lavish decoration. Alongside the entrance there is an intimate and cosy little bar, which leads into the larger dining area. The inlaid marble floor adds to the nostalgic atmosphere, with gold filigree screens and metal accents replicating the ironwork of the Eiffel Tower.

‘Timeless, isn’t it? This could as easily be a setting for a classic movie. I can just imagine Cary Grant walking through, accompanied by one of those glamorous starlets.’

His comment surprises me.

‘I wouldn’t have taken you for an old movie buff. Are you a Casablanca fan too?’

He nods. ‘My mother’s influence, I’m afraid.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ I respond, truthfully. Harrison is wearing a very smart dark grey suit with a white shirt and a mauve tie. Old-style he’d be described as dashing; a man who feels very comfortable in more formal attire. The hint of grey around his temples suits him and doesn’t make him look old, more dependable.

‘Should I be worried by that look you’re giving me?’

I didn’t realise I was studying him that intently.

‘Sorry, no, I was just thinking how nice it is to be able to dress up for a change.’ Liar – you hate posh frocks. Saying that simply to try to disguise the fact you were staring at him means you’ve now given him the wrong impression. ‘Not that I’d want to do that very often, of course, as it’s not really my style.’

Suddenly I feel very hot and bothered.

‘Really? Well, I didn’t like to pass comment but as you’ve raised the subject that is a rather spectacular dress.’

He arches his eyebrows and quickly raises his wine glass in the air.

‘To your first night onboard ship. May there be many more in the future.’

We clink glasses and my first taste of the rich, almost plum-coloured wine fills my mouth with hints of blackberries and, rather pleasantly, apples. Obviously, I’m no wine connoisseur and a smile begins to creep over my face.

‘What is it?’ Harrison gives me a suspicious look. He thinks I’m laughing at him.

‘I lead a very quiet life, usually. This sort of luxurious experience is all very new to me,’ I admit. I think it’s time to be honest with him.

‘What exactly is your job? Are you some sort of test shopper, employed by companies who want to run a check on their customer service status?’

Two waiters arrive at our table, each carrying a plate with a silver dome over the top on an upturned hand. With one deft movement, and perfectly synchronised, the plates are laid before us and the domes removed.

‘Wonderful, thank you.’ The service really is as good as the food, which scores ten out of ten for presentation.

While we eat I explain what I do in detail and Harrison looks mildly surprised by the number of hours I spend online.

‘Doesn’t that make home life rather difficult? How do you maintain that work-life balance?’

Do I skirt the issue? I decide there’s little point as our paths will never cross again. There’s a sense of anonymity in telling a stranger something you’d hesitate to tell a close friend you see on a regular basis.

‘My daughter is my life and the focus is on providing for us both. I’m in a happy place now and I’ve achieved that by deciding I don’t need a significant other in my life. It’s been liberating, actually, after what I’ve been through.’

He frowns. ‘That sounds bad. You see, I hate being alone as you’ve probably guessed. I need company. I’m a workaholic, too, but when I’m not working I need to keep busy. I’ve never been the sort to go and lie on a beach all day. But most things are more fun with someone by your side. My someone just happened to be the biggest mistake of my life.’

It’s my turn to frown, sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. The pain will pass, it always does.’ My pain passed, it just took nearly seven years – but the anger still remains fresh.

‘It was wrong from the start. I married my boss’s daughter and why on earth I thought that was going to work, goodness knows. She was high maintenance and hard to please. A daddy’s girl who was spoiled from the moment she was born. My mother did warn me.’

‘Mums, eh? Mine worries about me all the time. She thinks being alone is the worst thing in the world. Thankfully my disastrous, all-consuming love gave me Rosie. She is worth every single second of the agony of losing the man I thought I’d love forever. But that was before he showed his true colours, of course.’

It isn’t until I finish speaking that I realise Harrison has stopped eating and his jaw is sagging.

‘I’m sorry, that was way too heavy. I’m not usually that forthcoming.’ I take a large gulp of wine, hoping the alcohol will soon kick in and begin to relax me.

‘That’s tough. It’s hard to trust again, I should imagine. At least in my situation it wasn’t really love, even from the start. I sort of knew that, but if you haven’t ever experienced it before, then you don’t know for sure. She is a very beautiful woman but that instant attraction thing doesn’t last long. If you have nothing else in common, life soon becomes a constant string of arguments.’

This time we both raise our glasses to our lips but as we put them back down on the table we’re smiling at each other.

‘You can rest assured that I’m not looking for a relationship, or a holiday fling, but I do enjoy, and appreciate, good company. Let me show you around, no strings attached. When we part I won’t even ask for your number, honestly,’ he says openly.

I nod. ‘I was thinking the exact same thing. You have no idea how out of my depth I feel on this floating city. Any help you are happy to give is most gratefully received.’

We toast each other and suddenly I feel I’m in safe hands and I can relax.

‘Right, get out your notepad and I’ll give you a few interesting facts and figures that will be perfect for your article.’

A Greek Affair

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