First Class Menu Read online

  “How’s he doing?” Trudy had asked as they carried the plates of hot food through to the dining room.

  “Who?”

  “David. Don’t play coy with me.”

  Lindsey embarrassed herself and told her foster mother the whole story; from the day she’d met David at his brother’s wedding reception to the humiliation of the night before.

  “That’s been your problem since the day you set foot in this house twenty-something years ago.”

  “What?”

  “You make assumptions and then make decisions based on unsubstantiated information.”

  “I do not!” Lindsey had exclaimed.

  “You know it’s true. Remember the time that your 8th grade history teacher wanted to talk to me after school? You’d decided you were in big trouble and had already spoken to the guidance counselor about switching to another teacher because Mr. Haney hated you?”

  Lindsey had hung her head. “Yes.”

  “And all he wanted to do was ask me if I could help with costumes for the annual play.”

  Lindsey had sighed.

  “And how about when Aaron had asked you to dinner a few years back. You were convinced he was firing you. You’d already started putting feelers out for another job and instead of firing you he made you Executive Chef of two, not one, but two, of his restaurants.”

  Lindsey sighed…again.

  “And this is another example of your insecurity. Lindsey? You are bold and assertive in your career. Why can’t you be the same way in your personal life?”

  So, on Sunday, when she’d picked up her cell phone to see David’s name in big red letters across the screen as she was just getting back from her morning run, she’d decided to take Trudy’s advice.

  “I’d really like to have dinner with you,” she’d replied to his offer. “Saturday sounds great.”

  *****

  “You’re leaving early,” Audrey noticed as David locked his office door on Wednesday afternoon.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here today. Did you need something from me?”

  “No. I just stopped by to find the fabric swatches I left here last week. I’m redoing the guest rooms.”

  “Didn’t you just redo the guest rooms?” he chuckled.

  “No. I redid the master suite last year. The guest rooms haven’t been done in like four years.”

  “Ooh, four years?” he smirked. “Criminal! Have you been ousted from the country club yet?”

  Audrey slapped his arm and laughed. “Where are you off to?”

  “Macy’s.”

  “You’re going shopping? By choice?”

  David chuckled. “I need to get some things for a dinner I’m having on Saturday.”

  “Did you lose my invitation?” Audrey teased.

  “You’re not invited,” he teased back.

  “Ouch!” She pretended to be wounded. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “Lindsey,” he grinned as he walked past her towards the front door.

  “About flippin’ time,” she muttered under her breath.

  *****

  Shopping with his mother had been incredibly painful. She had interrogated him the entire trip to the grocery store. The CIA should hire her, he’d thought. But, he couldn’t have done it without her so for that, he was grateful.

  He’d told Audrey he wasn’t coming into the gallery on Friday. She’d told him that if the dinner went well to stay home on Monday too. He assured her he’d be in.

  He spent all night Thursday reading and re-reading recipes and instructions, making sure he understood every ingredient and every step. He wrote down a timeline of when everything needed to be completed, from making dessert to lighting the candles to uncorking the wine to give it sufficient time to ‘breathe.’ He attached the list to the front of the fridge with the restaurant magnets he used to use to order his takeout. He smiled to himself as he realized he hadn’t called them in weeks.

  He made dessert first. That could go in the fridge and be ready for tomorrow. Then he made the hors d'oeuvres. That also was good to go in the fridge overnight. He set the table with the new dishes and flatware he’d purchased while shopping with his mother. The rest of the preparations would have to wait until the morning.

  He checked the list on the fridge, marking off each item as it was completed. He needed a good night sleep so he could get everything done the next day. He wanted the food to be delicious. He wanted Lindsey to enjoy herself. He wanted it to be perfect.

  17.

  At five minutes to seven, David looked over his list. Every item had been checked, with the exception of slicing the beef, but that would have to wait until it had finished cooking and came out of the oven.

  After a quick check in the mirror, he poured two glasses of white wine and placed them on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room and waited for the doorman to buzz and tell him Lindsey was on her way up. At five minutes after seven, he began pacing.

  At eight minutes after seven, the buzzer sounded and David breathed a sigh of relief. She was on her way. Let the evening begin.

  *****

  “You made chicken liver mousse?”

  “I did,” David grinned.

  “Wow! Impressive!” Lindsey nodded.

  “That was the plan,” he chuckled.

  “It’s working.” Lindsey spread the thick mousse over a water cracker and took a bite. As she swallowed, she turned to David and smiled. “Well done! I have chefs who can’t make it this well. It’s smooth and velvety and perfectly seasoned.”

  “Seriously?” he was a little shocked at the praise.

  “Seriously. This student may have surpassed the teacher,” she winked.

  “Not likely,” he smiled. “But I appreciate the compliment. Ready for dinner?”

  David escorted her to the dining table and pulled out the chair for her. Then he placed the mousse and crackers beside her so she could continue eating while he served the soup.

  She admired the table setting as she lifted the pale blue linen napkin from her plate. The plates were white with a silver ring around the edge. The flatware was simple but elegant. There were three glasses in front of her; one was filled with ice water and the other two were empty. There were votive candles floating in water in shallow glass bowls and a single red rose in a tall vase in the center of the table.

  Yes, she was impressed.

  Gently placed in front of her was an exquisite fire-glazed bowl full of French onion soup. The melted cheese oozed down the side of the bowl, still bubbling. The steam rose and the delicious smell filled her nose.

  David sat down opposite with a bottle of Pinot Gris and poured the pale liquid into her glass.

  “Bon appetit,” he smiled.

  As Lindsey cut through the bread floating in the top of her bowl, she glanced at David. His tongue stuck between his lips as he attempted to slice through the bread with his spoon. She grinned and took a sip of the soup.

  “Excellent!” she praised.

  “This has been cooking for hours.”

  “I can taste that. There is a depth of flavor here that is simply divine.”

  “I sautéed the onions in olive oil and butter,” he grinned. “And a sprinkle of sugar to help with the caramelization.”

  “You did listen to me,” Lindsey laughed.

  “Every word!” David replied. “Only I didn’t always understand your meaning. But I’m smarter now.”

  She didn’t know what he meant by that and was too afraid to ask so she kept eating, which wasn’t a chore. The soup was wonderful.

  David cleared the bowls and carried them to the kitchen sink. She could hear him opening and closing the oven then opening and closing the fridge. She heard a cupboard bang shut and some cutlery rustling in a drawer.

  “Can I help?” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “Nope! Just getting the meat out to rest while we eat the next course.”

  Lindsey leaned back in the chair and
took a sip of wine, a smile spreading across her face. She was really having a delightful evening. She dabbed the napkin at the edge of her mouth, careful not to smear her lipstick. She replaced it in her lap, covering her navy blue skirt.

  David emerged from the kitchen, a plate in each hand. He lowered them to the silver chargers on the table.

  “Hope you like tuna.”

  “I love tuna,” she sighed with pleasure.

  David topped off her wine glass and sat down again. They both began eating, moaning with pleasure with each new bite.

  “David,” Lindsey looked up as she took another bite. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a student exceed my expectations as you have.”

  “I’ve never had a teacher like you.” He spoke softly and his eyes pierced through hers making it impossible for her to look away.

  “Thank you, I think,” she smiled.

  “You are an exceptional woman and a master chef. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better partner…in the kitchen,” he added.

  Heat rose from her chest up her neck and flooded her cheeks. There was a double meaning there, she was sure of it. She concentrated on stabbing a green bean with her fork and getting it to her mouth. It took every ounce of concentration she had. David was making her extremely nervous. He’d put his fork down on his edge of his plate and was watching her…intently.

  The chewing was so loud in her ears she had to swallow quickly. She took a long sip of wine, hoping it would calm her nerves. This feeling was new. Her tummy was rolling and tumbling and spiraling out of control.

  “May I use your bathroom?” She pushed back in her chair.

  “Of course.” David stood and helped her up. “Down the hall and through either door you’ll find one. Are you finished?”

  Lindsey attempted a smile. “Yes, thank you.” Then she turned and hurried in search of privacy.

  The first open door she came to was obviously David’s bedroom. A king-size bed took up most of the room. The light was off so she couldn’t see much, just enough to know she’d try the other room. She couldn’t seem to muster the courage to be in the room where he slept…and showered.

  Turning to the left she stepped into a larger room that was lit by a small desk lamp on the far wall in front of a large window. This wasn’t his bedroom so it immediately felt safer. She took a deep breath as she took a few more steps into the room.

  It was obviously his studio. There were two desks; one that held the lamp on the far wall, and one in the middle of the room. It was like a drafting table; slanted; higher at the top, lower at the bottom. There was a stack on clean paper on it, ready to be used. There was a set of small shelves next to it and in a box on top were several pieces of charcoal, each one looking thoroughly used. In another corner there was an easel next to a window that was open to the back of the building. It must get the early morning light, she thought. Next to the table was a round table that was full of tubes of paint in every color imaginable. It reminded her of her spice drawers. You never knew when you’d need a pinch of this or a pinch of that. Painting must be the same way, she mused.

  There were two doors on the opposite wall. She assumed one would be the bathroom, the other a closet. Taking a guess, she opened one to find it was indeed the bathroom. She stepped inside and closed the door. It was larger than she imagined. There were dual sinks and a large soaking tub. A free standing shower with a glass surround looked as though it would hold two people comfortably. There was a tiled bench at one end. Perfect for shaving my legs, she smiled. Or…

  She stopped her train of thought and shook her head. Turning on the faucet at the nearest sink, she ran her hands under the cool water and then placed them on her warm cheeks. Something was different about David this evening. He was still charming and intelligent and articulate and humorous and drop-dead sexy, but there was also something else. He was focused. He was confidant. He was flirting…with her. And she was enjoying it. No, she was loving it.

  Lindsey dried her hands on the hand towel and walked back into David’s studio. There, straight in front of her, how she missed it before she didn’t know, was a drawing…of her! She walked very slowly toward the small easel perched on top of a set of shelves that held books and binders.

  She tilted her head and studied herself. Her eyes were bright and alive. There was a slight smile on her lips. She looked…happy. Is this how he saw her?

  “I don’t think I did you justice.” He spoke softly.

  Lindsey whipped around to see him leaning in the doorway. “You’re much more beautiful than that.”

  Lindsey didn’t know whether to be embarrassed she’d been caught snooping or because nobody, not even her ex-husband had paid her such a compliment. She didn’t know what to say.

  His shoulder pushed off the door frame and he sauntered towards her. He’d taken off his jacket and his crisp white dress shirt was open at the collar exposing his neck. She concentrated on that small glimpse of skin as he closed the distance between them. His hand reached for her and she turned slightly as he touched her cheek. His fingers pushed through her hair and his thumb caressed her warm skin, only now it burned where he touched.

  “Lindsey,” he whispered and bent down to press his lips to hers. “The vegetables are getting cold.”

  18.

  He led her by the hand back to the table. Plated in front of her was chateaubriand with roasted asparagus, glazed carrots and potatoes in a cream sauce. A small bowl of what appeared to be bernaise sauce was next to her plate.

  Once again, David pulled the chair for her to sit and then filled her glass with a deep red wine, Cabernet Sauvignon, if she could read the label correctly. He sat opposite and lifted his knife and fork.

  “Hope you like it,” he winked.

  It was difficult to breath let alone eat. Lindsey’s heart was still racing from that kiss, if you could call it a kiss. Their lips barely touched for just a fraction of a second but in that moment, her feelings were confirmed. She was hopelessly lost…hopelessly in love with him.

  And now she sat trying to eat. She had to try. He’d gone to all this trouble. She was enormously flattered.

  “You made chateaubriand?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “But?” she asked.

  “I had to enlist the help of a pro…my mom.”

  Lindsey smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

  Surprising her, she managed to clean her plate. The beef was a perfect medium rare, the potatoes soft but not mushy, the carrots still had some crunch to them and the asparagus, Lindsey’s favorite vegetable of all time, was seasoned perfectly.

  “Mmm, I love asparagus,” she sighed as she lifted the last stalk to her mouth with her fingers and bit off the end.

  “I know,” he winked. “I remembered.”

  Lindsey was surprised and her face must have revealed that.

  “I told you I listened,” he chuckled. “Every single word.” He finished the liquid in his glass and poured himself some more.

  “You know your wines.” She nodded at the bottle. “That is a perfect selection for a tenderloin.”

  “I’m a Lathem!” he chuckled. “It is required of us to know our wines.”

  “Let me get the dishes,” Lindsey offered as she began to stand.

  “I’ll let you help,” he smiled.

  Together, they cleared the table and cleaned off the plates into the garbage disposal and David finished filling the dishwasher.

  “Do you mind if we wait on dessert for just a bit? I don’t think I could eat another bite right now.”

  “There’s dessert?” she exclaimed.

  “Sure is,” he smiled. “And it’s not pavlova or a chocolate tart.”

  “You’ve blown me away,” she laughed as she leaned back against the counter.

  “Have I?” He stepped closer.

  Lindsey’s heart began beating faster as he approached. Her head dropped and he lifted her chin with his hand.

  “My b
rother told me that a woman who can cook is a catch.”

  She bit her lower lip and blinked.

  “But I’d like to think that a man who can cook is also a catch.”

  She didn’t say anything. She was trapped in his gaze.

  “Am I a catch now Lindsey?”

  Her head nodded…barely moving.

  “Am I?” he repeated.

  “You were before you knew how to cook,” she mumbled.

  “Huh?”

  “Yes! You’re a catch,” she blushed as she spoke.

  He lowered his lips to hers and brushed them softly. She responded immediately. He let go of her chin and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled him to her, their bodies now touching.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured into her mouth.

  They kissed for what seemed like an eternity to Lindsey and it felt divine. His lips were warm and wet and he tasted heavenly. She was lost. But then he broke the spell as he pulled away, his arms leaving her and he stepped backwards.

  “Come,” he said as he took her hand and led her to the living room.

  “Sit,” he said as they approached the sofa. “Let’s talk.”

  “Talk?” she asked.

  David chuckled. “Yeah. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Lindsey sat down, flicked off her navy pumps, and pulled her ankles under her hips. She twisted sideways so she could look at him now seated beside her. He took her hand and laid it on his thigh and traced her hand with his pointer finger.

  “Everything okay?” she asked as the silence progressed. He wanted to talk but hadn’t said a word.

  “That depends on you?”

  “Me? How so?”

  David pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Then he replaced it on his thigh.

  “I don’t see any reason to play games here,” he began. “And if you’re going to break my heart then I’d prefer I know now rather than later.”

  His words were like a foreign language. She heard him; she saw his lips moving, but she wasn’t sure of his meaning. Her head tilted to the side and her eyes squinted as her forehead wrinkled.