Wild flowers; Housekeeper's Bell

Chapter 10

The hot mid-day sun scorched Bell's skin as she stepped onto the curb, she had taken a cab down town where she was supposed to be meeting Dean at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the country, LeRayonDeMiel, 'The Honey Comb.' They had opted to leave the office separately and meet up at the street corner near the restaurant. He was leaning on the wall opposite the restaurant with a broad grin on his face and his arms folded across his broad chest as she approached him. Bell had seen him in that sharp, extremely expensive suit all morning and still she couldn't get over how good he looked standing there. 'He was so made for a world of riches and luxuries. It baffled her how perfect he fitted in, would she ever be able to really fit into his world?'

"Hey you ready for the best meal you've ever had?" He pushed off the wall standing before her, offering an elbow. Bell smiled, wrapping her fingers around his biceps.

"I'm starved, feed me man." She cried looking up at him with a twisted smile and he laughed as they walked into the restaurant. "Are you trying to be cute again?"

"Yep..." she grinned, "you still going to feed me, right?"

"Yes, come on." 'He always did admire her love for food.'

Like bees to the nectar the LeRayonDeMiel was always in demand and the lines were  long. Reservation here was  very difficult. You had to have inside connections to get in, which Dean apparently had since he was a regular there. The restaurant was an infusion of old, classic French food with a modern-day tempo. The Maître D met them at the door with a formal and polite smile. She was beautiful and well dressed. Bell frowned, she felt a little intimidated. Every detail of the room was down to perfection, the napkins crispy white. The porcelain dishes gleamed against the light of the large chandelier overhead, 'She did not belong here! This was the kind of place only the rich could afford and really the closest she had ever gotten to an expensive dinner, were the ones held by the Andrews. What if she used the wrong fork? What if she embarrassed Dean with her lack of social graces? Growing up as the housekeeper's daughter never brought her face to face with the other side of the track and she liked it that way. Whenever the Andrew's had their grand dinner parties, she was never allowed to be seen or heard, which was fine by her as she thought they were to as she would put it for her mom 'snobby and a stressful bunch of bs,' she remembered all the preparation behind it, they were mainly done by her mother. She would much prefer a book to one of those meaningless parties anytime.'

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Dean looked down at Bell, who stood next to him quietly with a frown on her face as she looked around the restaurant. He should have asked her if she wanted to go to a restaurant or order in, he should have remembered she was self-conscious about expensive places.

"Want to leave?" He asked in a soft whisper, she looked up at him and blushed taken by surprise, 'Could Dean read her mind?'

"No." She whispered as they were shown to their table in a secluded corner of the restaurant and she sighed, 'At least no one could see her make a fool of herself here!'

Dean pulled her chair out and she smiled, "What a gentleman, the ladies should see you in bed." She whispered. Stretching up she kissed him on the cheek. Dean smiled, squeezing her butt cheek and making her yelp which in turn brought them the stern glares of the other patrons busy eating their meals in fair silence. The Maître D blushed a bright red observing Dean's actions, Bell sat on the chair Dean held out for her.