The Horseman

Arrival

Dinner at the restaurant Ben chose was a magical experience. As the sunset, Shannon watched the city's lights emerge through the growing darkness framed by the dining room's floor-to-ceiling windows. In the beginnings of true twilight, the lights of the Eiffel Tower glittered on just blocks away. The view was only rivaled by the menu.

"May I order for you?" he asked.

Shannon agreed, prefacing with, "I don't care for liver or caviar. Otherwise, I'm open to trying just about anything."

"I can work with that!" he beamed, then ordered for the two of them in fluent French.

"How many languages do you speak?" Shannon asked when the wait staff had left.

Ben leaned in and whispered, "All of them."

Shannon kept her jaw from dropping, just barely. "Well, I guess that does make sense. I mean, how else could you do your job? Or could have done..." She lapsed into silence, having reminded herself of her quandary.

He reached across the table for her hand. She gave it to him, and he squeezed it gently but had no words of comfort for her. Instead, he seemed intent on distracting her. "Tell me a good childhood memory you have."

"Oh! Wow, it's hard to choose!" A smile lit her face, and she thought for a moment. "I guess the time we went to Disney World when I was about nine. It was me, my mom and dad, my aunt and uncle, and two cousins. We had so much fun! Somewhere in my box of memories, I still have the autograph book from running after Disney characters for three days."

She chuckled at a memory. "My cousins got in so much trouble for sticking gum everywhere. They were a gross pair of boys. I hated them as a kid, but they turned out alright."

"What was your favorite part of the trip?"

"I think it's a toss-up between the Journey into the Imagination attraction I loved and when my parents let me come along to the 'fancy' restaurant. I felt so grown up!"

"So, I did good by bringing you to a 'fancy' restaurant?" Ben asked, smirking over his wine glass.

Shannon laughed, watching his eyes crinkle when he smiled. She thought the laugh lines made him look sexy as hell. "Yeah, you did okay," she teased. "But, what about you? What's something good you remember from childhood?"

"Hands down, it has to be the pranks my friends and I used to pull on our tutor. The man was deathly afraid of frogs. I spent a great deal of my young childhood catching those creatures. We even managed to get one into his bed once. Oh!" he sat forward, excited, "There was the time we threw them through the window into his bath." His laughter was infectious, and they passed the rest of the meal swapping stories from their younger years.

After appetizers, entrees, and the house dessert of coffee and tiramisu, they walked out into the cold night air.

"Ever been to Paris?" he asked, tucking her in under an arm.

"No," she explained, wistful. "I've always wanted to come, but I've never had—made—the time. It doesn't seem right to come to a romantic city alone."

"Well, then, let me take you to the Eiffel Tower at the very least before we head back?" he requested as the car pulled up for them.

Within the hour, they were standing on the upper deck of the Tower, looking out over the urban landsape. Far below them stretched and yellow and blue-white mismatched city streetlights. Vehicles' lights traced out the blocks and freeways as if they were great snakes seeking some destination just out of sight. Off in the East, the waning gibbous moon rose, its light making the night surrounding them bright.