Loving Nicolas

Chapter 3

                   

Our gaze connects, Nicolas's silvery eyes are darker now, as he gives me a once over. I swallow my breath caught. Not the time to lose my wit!

"Ready to leave?" He demanded looking at me, a black cashmere coat over one arm. He looked as good as the advertisement he had made for Hugo Boss.

"Yes... Where are we going?" My legs felt rubbery as I get up.

"To a bistro which serves great steak and fries." He grins, the corner dimples appearing, warming his eyes.

"Sounds good." I smiled up at him as I got up on my feet. Strange, the nervousness eased.

Now the back stage was quieter, actors left and only the stage hands were still there about their business. I felt overwhelmed by his presence behind me, my heart pounding my breath a little shallow, as we walked through the empty theater. I had never been on a date before. Then I immediately corrected myself, it wasn't a date. Nicolas took me through a back door where a sleek black car was waiting. He opened the door for me and I went in and he went around and got in.

"Good evening John. To the Bistro please." Nicolas said as he unbuttoned the jacket and relaxed back. I couldn't help staring at the flat plain of his abdomen. He noticed me and I quickly looked away hiding the flush which rose up to my cheeks. Careful Leah.

"Good evening sir." John looked at us through the rearview mirror. "Madame."

I nodded at him with a small smile. He looked like a sweet old soul.

"So, what do you do?" Nicolas turned to me as the car began to move. His attention intent on me now.

I was surprised by his question. He wanted to know about me.  Most actors are self centered, at least that's how the media pictured them to us poor mortals.

"I'm a fashion designer." I replied I felt heat creeping up to my face, hoping my flush isn't discernable in the dimness of the car.

"Really?! What's your brand's name?" he was surprised, even pleased. 

"Quaintrelle. We started it five years ago after our graduation, with essential clothing for the everyday woman, elegant and comfortable. For the time being it is an online store. We're hoping to open our boutique sometime in the next year." I found myself eager to tell him about myself, a tension I didn't know I had in my shoulders began to ease. "And be part of the Paris Fashion Week in September."

"We?"

"Yes, my business partner and best friend, Veronic. She is a good designer, but prefers the PR department." I told him and I understood why he had asked me.  I felt too eager, almost geeky in the way I sounded. The only thing I was missing were a pair of mouth braces and bottle glasses. Easy Leah.  

"Quaintrelle." He murmurs testing the name on his tongue. "I like the name." 

"Thank you." I relax back in my seat, a sigh escapes my lips.

"How long are you staying in London?" He then asks as he slants me a glance. 

"I'm leaving after tomorrow and back to work. I still have to come up with something for the Fashion Week and we are behind schedule. It is stressful." I'm blabbering now! He didn't want to know about my problems and designer block!

"Yeah, I've seen too many designers on fashion weeks, they are very tense people." He agreed grinning, his silvery eyes crinkling at the side, "I hope you're not like them."

I laughed.

"I'm worse. I pull at my hair before a new collection hits the net! It is hectic."