The food arrives

I am starving, but am using willpower to not eat more than two slices of bread before the first course arrives. I also refrain from quaffing my wine since the first few sips are already affecting me. I need to come up with a conversation starter, something neutral.

“When was the first time you came here?”

Victoria thinks for a moment and smirks. “Six years ago, in the fall. A guy I was dating took me here for my birthday. It was one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.” She smiles to herself, looking at her wine. “Then we went out dancing.”

“That sounds like an amazing night.”

“Um-hmm. It was the best date I’ve ever had. He is a great dancer.” Her nipples harden again. I wonder if some of her positive reaction to me tonight might be related to her powerful memories.

“Do you think about that day every time you eat here?”

“Only if I’m here for dinner. This place feels magical at night.”

“I can see why. Too bad we don’t have time for dancing tonight.” I’m comfortable with a little dancing, though I don’t think anyone would call me a great dancer. Part of me just wants her to know that I would be up for it...and maybe get more positive bleed-over from the best night of her life. She tilts her head, studying me again, but not committing to a reply.

The first course arrives. The plates are disappointingly small for my hunger. But the smell alone is intoxicating. It looks like a rib of...lamb? There is a sauce drizzled over it and a clump of some kind of mashed root vegetable. I cut a piece and put it in my mouth. Victoria grins at whatever my face is doing to express the delight I am feeling. “OH WOW! That is...so tender and...so...GOOD!” I can’t find my words.

“Uh-huh. Told you. Now stop talking with food in your mouth.”

I try the mash with the sauce, then the meat with the mash, then the three together. Every combination is great and different. Then I sip the wine and it adds something, too. After swallowing, I speak again. “So this isn’t bullshit. This really will ruin me forever.”

Her response is unexpected. She leans forward, and in a sultry tone, whispers, “Yeah, sorry about that.” My heart revs up at getting a glimpse of her power of seduction. She leans back, sipping her wine, looking smug.

This ‘date’ is a gift with a curse. She knew it from the start. She likes knowing that she has cursed me, for food and for women. My toast was more right than I knew. A self-protective part of me quietly tells me to shut this down. It says that Victoria is only toying with me, her lowly assistant. But the endorphins and arousal are speaking much louder.

There is a buzz. She pulls out her phone, apologizing. She checks a message, then types a reply. I refill our wine glasses. She sets the phone face down on the table. “Work stuff,” she explains. I nod, knowing full well that I would get scolded for the same thing. Then again, she is the executive here, and I am not even close.

Victoria excuses herself to use the restroom and stands up, reacquainting me with all of her abdominal muscles, then her glutes. It takes my breath away. Strangers also notice her again, unable to look away.

Victoria’s phone buzzes again from under her napkin. I can’t resist. I pick it up and see text messages from Alex D. I recognize it as Victoria’s contact with AmorFik. They meet at least once a month, often here.

Alex: Something is changing with controls. Let’s move up our meeting.

Victoria: Understood, I’ll update you from the office tomorrow.

Alex: It needs to happen by the middle of next week.

I click the phone off and slide it back, covering it with the napkin. I don’t know a lot about the partnership between Wayfield and Amorfik. I should probably have been paying more attention. Now is a good time to start.

Victoria returns, then the next course arrives. It blows my mind in new and different ways. Victoria orders a bottle of another wine for the next two courses. It is all so brilliant and engrossing that I forget anyone else is around.

“Please...were you raised in a barn? Stop using your fingers, it’s disgusting.” I freeze. The buttery vegetable that refused to sit still for my fork had finally been blocked by the edge of my finger, allowing the fork to get under it. “You’ve been doing it all night. It’s embarrassing.” I look at her plate. She has a butter knife in her other hand. Then look around at other tables, noticing many of them are also using their knives. I feel like a child AND an imposter. I’m also feeling emotional whiplash at her ability to raise me up, then to slam me down repeatedly.

We get an incredible dessert, and finally, the incredible bill. She pulls out her company credit card and hands it to the server. As I understand it, that is for covering business costs. I don’t see how this applies. I make a mental note to ask Rachel about it.

We walk back into the valet. She doesn’t wait to take my hand, choosing to walk ahead of me instead. I don’t think to ask Victoria if she is okay to drive, since I am too blissed out on food and wine. I snuggle into the passenger seat and let my lids close and take a deep breath. This is a perfect moment.

“Don’t put your feet there.” Huh? I open my eyes, then look at her annoyed face. “This car came with floor mats for a reason.” I look down at my feet. They are on the floor...but my right foot is touching the wall of the footwell. I pull it an inch back and sit straighter. Is that what she was talking about?

“Uh...sorry,” I say almost as a question. Apparently that was it. Fuck it is hard to relax around her.