Aurélie

Chapter Twenty Seven

It was Aurélie's turn to choose which restaurant to go to and after mulling it over she decided on a family run Italian diner. She figured after two weeks of French cooking lessons from Lena it might be nice for Blake to have a change. Secretly she was desperate for a pizza, she hadn't had one since her first night here when Lena's oven had cremated a thin crust Hawaiian.

She agreed to meet Blake at the restaurant as it was closer to his hotel and although she would have loved the extra time to get dressed, she thought it might be a bit weird for Mel if Aurélie's date rocked up, she didn't want to be in the awkward position of having to invite the new guest along to play gooseberry.

Plus she didn't want to share Blake with anyone else just yet.

She got ready in a floaty floor length skirt and dark green beaded top, if Sienna Miller could still rock the hippy chic, she could too! She'd left her hair down and wavy and applied a tricolour brown eyeshadow, nailing the smoky eye effect. She followed the curve of her eyelid with eyeliner and applied mascara, appraising her reflection, she was pretty happy. It was always tricky to keep the eyeliner even but tonight, the gods of Maybelline were in her favour. She slipped her feet into dainty embroidered flat pumps she's bought on a whim at Accessorize before her train had left St Pancras, and spritzed Calvin Klein Eternity perfume on her wrists and neck.

Picking up her handbag she threw in her phone and keys and remembered to pick up the gift for Lena. It had been just over two weeks since she'd heard from Adam, hopefully he had taken her stoic silence as a signal to bugger off.

She walked downstairs, still no sign of Lena so she laid her present on her favourite spot in the armchair. She headed down to the front door, knocking gently on Mel's door.

"Hey!" Mel said, opening the door and standing in a black negligée completely at ease in her own skin.

"Um.." Aurélie tried to avert her gaze. What if it had been Seb who'd knocked?  "I'm heading out now, have a lovely evening and I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure, have a super evening," Mel saluted and closed the door. Blimey. Even Aurélie could appreciate that Mel was attractive, she envied her confidence. My body clearly does it for Blake so I can't complain! She shut the front door and headed across town to the restaurant.

---------------------------------------------------

Blake was already seated with his back to the windows and door.

"Hey stranger," she ran a hand across his shoulders and leant down to kiss him. He turned his face up to hers and caught her cheek in his hands prolonging the kiss. Aurélie reluctantly pulled away and sat down opposite him.

"Didn't fancy facing out at the view?" she asked.

"I thought you'd enjoy it more," he smiled, dimples deepening in his cheeks. "Plus all the booths are taken." He nodded his head to the booths that lined the room, and sure enough they were already filled with couples leant over sharing platters and children squeezed in next to their parents, munching hungrily on slices of delicious looking pizza.

"I'm starving babe," he handed her one of the menus.

"Hmm, the American looks good," she glanced over the menu.

"Why thank you darlin'!" Blake winked at her.

"Ha! So cheeky! American Hot, Blake. But you look lovely too." She beamed.

"You're making me blush!" Blake fanned himself theatrically and Aurélie let out a burst of laughter.

The waitress came over, a young girl, no more than twenty, obviously a student judging by the bags under her eyes and the bored expression on her face.

"Can I get you guys some drinks?" she asked, taking notepad out of the front of her apron.

"Sure we'll have a merlot - bottle thanks, Blake looked up at her and turned on his megawatt smile. Aurélie grinned to herself smugly as the young girl looked flustered by his quick response, fumbling to take out a notepad out of the front of her apron.

"Of course, right away." She bobbed her head and headed to the back of the restaurant and the wine rack. Aurélie loved that Blake took control of situations like this. There was no dithering with him. Not like Adam who couldn't make a decision to save his life. Blake was so confident that he knew what pleased Aurélie that he went right ahead and ordered drinks for them - to anyone else it would be arrogance, but with Blake it was romantic and thoughtful.

"You decided, babe?" He took one of her hands in both of his and ran his thumb over her knuckles, sending shivers rocketing up her arms and down to her hips.

"Yeah, I am going to have the American Hot, why change a good thing?" She put her menu down and entwined her free hand over his. "You?"

"Calzone, the godfather of all pizzas." Their wine was served and Blake tasted the wine before it was poured into their oversized glasses, swilling it around his mouth and narrowing his eyes at the waitress intensely, making her giggle nervously and look away. "Perfect, that'll be perfect," he declared.

Aurélie took her wine glass by the stem and tilted the glass, rolling the Malbec around, leaving crimson legs trailing down the glass. Blake picked his up and held it out to her.

"Cheers, here's to us and the best two weeks of my life."

"To the best two weeks of my life," she agreed. They clinked glasses and each took a deep sip, never breaking eye contact over their drinks.

Their table was in the middle of the restaurant, round, with two dark straight backed wooden chairs with slots in the back for the menus to be neatly tucked away. A traditional red and white checked table cloth had been laid out on all the tables and a fresh daisy had been placed in a delicate blue miniature glass vase. Aurélie pinched the petals to check if it was real, the petals looked too evenly placed to have been created by nature but she was surprised by the fleshy, damp velvety feel and quickly retracted her hand so as not to leave nail indentations on the fragile petals.

The walls of the restaurant were exposed brick and heavy gold stained photo frames lined the walls showing black and white photographs of family members. Old Italian men in flat caps and braces gets crates of oranges off the back of a pickup truck. A large woman with a neat black bun piled on high on her head stood in a stone doorway, a farmhouse perhaps. Long skirt and white blouse, apron tied around her generous middle with her hands on both hips, chin tilted to the camera as if she had just invited you inside. A chicken had walked into the shot by her feet and was pecking spilt grains off the large flagstone paving slabs.

Aurélie had no idea if these photos where authentic and from the owner's family album but she liked the idea that thought had been put it in to create a homely atmosphere. There were two low ceiling fans on the middle of the room, one at the front and the other at the back near the entrance to the kitchens. An Italian flagged was secured to the ceiling and billowed occasionally when air from the fans got under the pinned seams.

Their glasses were refilled seamlessly by their waitress as they made their way through their pizzas. When they had finished she offered them the dessert menu and they settled on getting a lemon sorbet to share. Just as the waitress brought their desserts over in a beautifully detailed crystal bowl with two spoons, Aurélie caught sight of a familiar face who had just entered the restaurant.

Blake was engrossed in the sorbet, he had a small bit remaining on his bottom lip, Aurélie grazed her index finger across his mouth and wiped it off, licking it before raising her hand in greeting.

"Here comes our house guest, she arrived today" Aurélie explained to Blake who still had his back to the front of the restaurant.

"Hi Aurélie!" Mel weaved her way between tables and came over to them.

"Hello Mel, this is Blake," Aurelie swallowed her sorbet and gestured across the table.

"Blake," Mel repeated, her eyes wide in surprise. Aurélie glanced over at Blake who was now looking like he regretted eating dinner, his face a pale ashen colour.

"Sorry, do you already know Blake?" Aurélie asked, her mind racing.

"You could say that," Mel's voice was now wavering, a tremor of distress catching in her throat. "Aurélie, this is my fiancé."