Years To Luna [#1 Gifted Luna Series]

VII

"Let's do a dance,
Body-body.
Talk with our hands,
Body-body.
You say you know
What I need,
Gimme-gimme.
Come knock me off my feet,
Pretty-pretty
Please." - Antonia - Tango

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Walking through the numerous busy tables in the restaurant, I can already sense some sort of anticipation or even tension in the air as soon as we entered the building.

Most occupants, staring at us in awe then bowing their heads slightly when Mr Stravos looks their way. A middle-aged man picked up his fork tentatively, his movements calculated but shaky at the same time.

Then I realised that not only him but nearly the whole restaurant was on their toes. But Mr Stravos weaved in between the tables nonchalantly like this heavy atmosphere was the usual to him.

Finally, our fidgety waiter opens a tinted glass door where at the centre of the huge room was a single round table with two ebony chairs - white cloth thrown elegantly over the table while simple silver cutlery and porcelain plates are placed on it.

A candle and a few rose petals placed at the centre. Mr Stravos leads me to one of the chairs and sits me down; my jaw drops as my eyes raise to the magnificent ceiling ornate with crystal drops and crystal vine-like girdles with white artificial lilies hanging from the vines.

Never have I seen such an artistic and gorgeous ceiling like this in my life.

"I take it you like this private lounge?" Mr Stravos chuckles lowly as his eyes suck in my whole face.

"It is quite the sight indeed Mr Stravos." I nod scouring one more time the breathtaking ceiling.

"Call me that one more time, and I promise you I'll make other things come out instead." He threatens passively, grey eyes daring and at the same time wanting me to contradict him.

Looking down at the menu, I try to pick something that I at least know but the task seems harder than I thought - none of the items are anything I've ever eaten or at least seen.

Huffing out of irritation, I place the menu down and am slightly startled to see Mr stra- Othello staring back at me.

"I guess I'll order," he chuckles now checking the menu.

I wonder how he even knows French cuisine - does he come here often? Probably, with all the money he has been spending lately I doubt that a five-star restaurant meal is anything to him.

But then again why would he bring me above all students at Yale to such luxurious places? Just for a diner? Why do I interest him so bad that he is willing to spend loads of green bills just to please me?

I hope he knows that I am not that shallow of a girl, who indulges in material things and someone elses money, just to be happy.

"Let's play a game," I state grabbing his undivided attention.

He frowns puzzled by my odd suggestion - I would be too, I never 'play games', it's just not me.

But this game will be the only way to start my sequence of figuring him out.