The voice of the waiter broke the spell that simmered betwixt us. Skye reluctantly removed his gaze from mine, turning his attention to the waiter. His face was slightly flushed.
"Mr. Flemming," the waiter was saying, "Would you like to have champagne first or would you rather dinner be served right away?"
"Yes, please. A bottle of your finest wine." Skye replied. The waiter bowed in acknowledgement and then left for the order. Turning back to me, Skye smiled and then silently drummed his fingers on the table. Silence fell upon us like a fog, and we only stared at each other. I felt so nervous, and couldn't think of a thing to say.
The waiter returned some minutes later, with a tray smothered with napkins. The tray held two stemwares, and an ice bucket containing the wine bottle.
"Sir, Miss," The waiter announced, bowing to us a little, as he placed the wine bottle on our table. "Your 1995, Champagne Krug Clos d'Ambonnay."
He gently then set the stemwares on the sides of our table, and uncorcked the wine. I watched as the foaming, sparkling, gold liquid, filled my glass.
