Playing The Player

Chapter 13

Just as John had told them, the restaurant wasn't easy to miss. It was taller than most of the buildings closest to it, and the lighting decoration on the outside wasn't noticeable. As if the vibrant sign spelling out "Délicieux" wasn't enough already.

Adelaide made sure to read the direction to open the door this time, so Julian wouldn't tease her about it.

"You do realize that I'm the one who's supposed to be opening doors for you, right?" Julian said, arching his eyebrow.

"We're not a couple," Adelaide repeated.

"Don't have to be."

"Don't care."

"Whatever."

Julian was growing restless and irritated. His goal wasn't the one for a god to accomplish- it was quite simple. Why was Adelaide being so difficult with him?

Deciding he would make his first move after dinner, Julian pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind.

It was a grand space, to say the least. The huge mahogany tables took up most of the vast space the dark, romantic room offered, left without a tablecloth and daring guests to ruin the perfectly varnished shine with their unworthy fingerprints. Two tall, silver candelabras commanded attention from the center of the table, holding smooth white candles whose wax never dripped.

Yeah, it was a pretty good atmosphere for a romantic dinner. For once, Casanova actually agreed with John.

The world must be coming to an end.

The restaurant was full, and the two were relieved when a waiter wearing a black tux helped them find a seat. As they passed the many tables and booths, they realized that this was almost as typical as any other high class restaurant. An old couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals. A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby looked on and frowned. Businessmen in their grey suits lighting up cigars. What seemed like American tourists, trying to decipher the menu. It was quiet and welcoming.

The waiter left them to retrieve their menus, while Adelaide fidgeted in her seat, adjusting the strap of her tanktop.

"Relax," Julian hushed. "You're okay."

"What if they realize I'm- well- me? I could be killed."

"As long as I'm here, you don't have to worry. No one will hurt you."

Adelaide felt the heat rise to her cheeks, as she quickly tried to disguise it. "You know, I used to be pretty mean back when things were normal. I don't know why you care about me so much."

"Lie," Julian said with a laugh. "All lies. Pretty? Yes. Mean? No."

It wasn't the first time Casanova had told her that, but the fact that he mentioned that she was pretty, made her squirm uncomfortably. She wanted to say something like 'you think I'm pretty?' She probably would have said it, too, if the waiter hadn't came back with their menus, saving her from further embarrassing herself. "Can I get you something to drink, sir?"

"Just a glass of Vin de Cerise for now, thank you," Julian replied.

The waiter scribbled down his order and turned to Adelaide. "And you, madam?"

"I'll have the same as him," she replied swiftly. The waiter nodded and left them again, no doubtedly getting their drinks.

"I didn't know that Cherry Wine is called Vin de Cerise in French," Julian commented. "I wonder what strawberry is?"