A/N: Double update this week! I had the day off and was able to polish 2 chapters over the weekend.
I only had one good suit, the Gieves & Hawkes suit the company paid for that I wore to every formal function. I showered and dressed quickly, parting my hair neatly to the side and tucking it behind my ear. Alex was waiting for me in the car. I didn't know where he was taking me but it didn't matter, I trusted his taste implicitly.
As I was leaving I paused and picked up the ribbon tie Harry had left in my flat after our first night together. The gold thread caught the light and shimmered prettily in my palm. I didn't know whether to kiss it or rip it to shreds. I tied it around my wrist. At the very least it would serve as a reminder not to get tangled up with him again.
Alex was outside smoking when I got downstairs. He stomped out his cigarette and opened the car door. Leaning back on the black leather seats, he checked the tag on my jacket. "Gieves & Hawkes." He smiled. "I danced for the Royal Ballet for six years before I went to Paris. In the old days we used to joke that the only thing more important than a good audition was being able to fill out a Gieves & Hawkes suit!"
I tugged my lapels. "How am I doing?"
"Just fine."
We drove past Grosvenor chapel on South Audley Street in Mayfair. I still had no idea where we were going, until we turned onto Park Lane and pulled up to the Dorchester. Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester was one of the most expensive restaurants in London, with three Michelin stars. I knew he would take me to a nice restaurant but this was more than nice. Only the city's elite dined here and even they had to wait months for a reservation.
The main floor of the restaurant was bathed in gold light that matched the small flash of gold on my wrist. I soon learned that we wouldn't be dining on the main floor. There were three private dining rooms: Table Lumière, Salon Park Lane, and Salon Privé, the most intimate of the three.
Alex said something in French to the waiter and the portly man led us to Salon Privé. It was darker in there than the main floor, the only source of light a fireplace in the corner. The thick button-tufted walls drowned out the sound of the other diners. It was so quiet I could hear the squeak of Alex cleaning his glasses on his handkerchief.
I looked around for a menu when Alex said softly, "I took the liberty of ordering ahead. I hope you like French cuisine."
"I'll love whatever you've chosen. Your taste is exquisite."
He'd ordered us the menu dégustation, the tasting menu, which consisted of seven courses, and a vintage bottle of Clos De La Roche for 1,300 quid. It was the most money anyone had ever paid for a bottle of wine in my presence. I was afraid to drink it but I did. It was delectable.
"This is too much, Sir."
He topped off my glass. "Oh come now, you're my favorite. Let me spoil you!"
The first course was Dorset crab, celeriac and caviar.
I pulled apart the crab carefully with my fork and knife, while Alex discussed the possibility of him taking up a permanent post with the Royal Ballet as resident choreographer.
It was such an honor to be here with him in such an incredible place, and he'd obviously gone out of his way, but my mind was still on Harry. I couldn't let myself be happy after the way Harry had disappointed me.
Alex noticed I was down. He touched his cloth napkin to his lips before draping it across his lap again. "Cheer up! I hate seeing you so sad. You've always had such a pleasant disposition. It's what I love about you."
I nibbled on the caviar. "I'm sorry. This Harry situation—I can't stop thinking about it."
"You know, Louis, I didn't want to say this before because you were so adamant about your feelings for him, but I don't think you two are right for each other."
I looked into his dark eyes, confused. "I thought you said we were good together?"
"That was before I saw how poorly he treats you. It's been so hard biting my tongue while he takes advantage of you." Alex shook his head, distraught. "Remember, I've had the kind of success that Harry is having now. I managed not to let the whole thing go to my head because I had a greater perspective on the matter. I was raised in high society. My mother is a Cavendish and my father was the French Ambassador. Harry was raised above a pub in Cheshire. There's no shame in that, of course, but he wasn't prepared for this life. He doesn't have the temperament for it."
"I don't understand him. I did everything he asked. I put all my friendships in jeopardy just so he could get his way and this is how he repays me?"
"It's terrible what money and fame can do to a person, isn't it?" He picked up the bottle. "More wine?"
"Please."
The waiter brought out the guinea fowl and duck foie gras.
"I was so sure he cared about me!" I didn't want to spend the whole dinner blubbering about Harry but after my third glass of wine I couldn't help myself. "When we were, you know, intimate, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. He was so innocent and passionate at the same time... He made me feel like I was the only man who ever mattered to him."
Alex spread the foie gras with his knife. "I don't mean to burst your bubble but I hear Harry's made a lot of men feel that way."
I looked down at my lap, completely gutted.
"Why do I have the worst luck in relationships? Jeffrey was a child, Harry a sociopath. What is wrong with me?"
The next course floated down in front of us. 'Sauté gourmand' of lobster and truffled chicken quenelles.
Alex fed me a piece of lobster with his hand. "I wish I had some advice for you my pet but I'm afraid I'm in a similar boat. Irina and I are getting divorced."
"No!"
He folded his hands over his plate. "I suppose you've heard the rumors... about me and other men."
I held up my hand. "Sir, I just want you to know that I don't listen to that sort of gossip and I never repeat it. You're personal life is your business and I respect that."
"It's all true. I do prefer men. Younger men."
I may have been tipsy but things were beginning to come into focus.
"Oh, well, um, I'm happy that you're finally being true to yourself. It takes courage to leave a marriage."
"Irina wasn't shocked. She's known for years. Our marriage was a meeting of the minds not the hearts."
He was staring at me. I cleared my throat. "It's the end of an era. You two made an incredible team."
"You and I make a pretty good team, don't you think?" He reached across the table and took my hand.
In all my years of obsessing over Alex, I had never once thought of him romantically. I wanted to be him, not be with him. He was so much older. He was married. To a woman! I had absolutely no idea that he saw me as anything more than a pupil and a colleague. I was so surprised I didn't even know how to react. The wine was doing the reacting for me. I withdrew into myself and became shy.
Mercifully, the waiter interrupted us with the line-caught sea bass and courgette blossom.
We ate in silence for a while.
"I'm attracted to you, Louis," he said, shadows from the fire dancing on his face.
"I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll come home with me tonight."
Oh my God. Did he just ask me that? He did. I looked at the ribbon on my wrist.
"Alex, I'm flattered but it's just too soon. I'm not over Harry."
The duck breast, peach and beetroot arrived.
"I hate what Harry's doing to you," he scolded. "You deserve so much better. Not someone who will manipulate and control you and hurt your dearest friends."
I picked at the duck. "You're right. I know you're right."
"Of course I'm right!"
Unbeknownst to me Alex had ordered a second bottle of Clos De La Roche and poured me another glass.
He stretched back, full from our last course. He was still handsome. His features had hardened, but they were as striking as they were in his youth: the cut jaw and cheekbones, the deep set eyes, the heavy brow and full mouth. His hair was a brilliant silver but it made him look distinguished not old.
"I would treat you like a prince, Louis."
But I was Harry's prince, I thought. He said that once.
Next came an assortment of four French cheeses. I tried to eat as much as I could to absorb the wine. I had a lot more to drink than I'd intended. The creamy cheeses filled my mouth with a smooth saltiness that was almost too rich to bear.
Alex's leg brushed up against mine under the table.
"Have you dated much since you came out?" I asked, not really sure what to say after his brazen proposition.
"A lot," he sighed. "I've had more love affairs than I can count. I'm ready to settle down with one man. I'm not getting any younger. I want a companion. It sounds like that's what you want too."
I nodded. "I want someone to love who loves me back."
Maybe that someone was Alex. I'd loved him my whole life, not romantically, not yet, but I what if I could?
The waiter brought out the last course. Summer berry contemporary vacherin. It was colorful and artfully arranged on the small white plate. Alex paired it with a dessert wine, a bottle of Château d'Yquem. The sweet wine mixed with the acidity of berry made the flavors sing in my mouth. Alex's pallet was as discerning as his eye.
"I love watching you enjoy yourself." Alex beamed.
"No one's ever taken me to a place like this before."
"Not even Harry? I imagine dating the highest paid danseur in the world has its perks."
I remembered eating pizza with Harry on the floor of his barren flat in our boxers after making love. It was a far cry from Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester, but it was just as good in a completely different way.
"Harry preferred to stay in." I felt my cheeks redden.
Alex smiled once he got my meaning.
"Understandable, but you deserve someone who will take care of you. I wish I had a gorgeous young man like you to lavish my attentions on. I'd take you out every night. I wouldn't keep you cooped up at home. You're too pretty, Louis. I'd want to show you off."
I'd had older men flirt with me in the past but none so persistent as Alex. I'd also never been with anyone who wanted to take care of me before. I was the caregiver. When Harry called me his prince, it wasn't because he wanted to spoil me with riches, it was because he wanted me to slay his dragons.
We had espressos and then Alex got the cheque. He didn't let me see how much it all cost. I was grateful. I probably would have fainted.
He led me through the main dining area by the small of my back. A few people recognized him and nodded in his direction. I could see that he enjoyed this: being seen, being seen with me.
Outside, we shared a smoke and waited for his car to arrive. My head and limbs were heavy from the wine. I leaned against a streetlight, my tie flapping in the wind.
"Are you sure you won't come home with me?"
I looked away with an embarrassed smile. "I'm sure."
The ride back to my flat was dead silent. I hoped I hadn't offended him. He didn't seem cross. He exuded a quiet confidence like always.
The cityscape swam by in a blur of lights and inky darkness. My head was spinning and I pressed it against the glass to steady myself. We hit a patch of traffic at Leicester Square. I heard the driver say something about a terrible accident—a three-car pile up. We came to a complete stop. I craned my neck out the window. I couldn't see the accident, but there, illuminated in big bright lights, was a billboard for Swan Lake. It was the first time I'd seen it. Liam and Harry had compromised on the design. It wasn't a photo of Harry, but a painting of him, done in the impressionist style of the late 1800s. The quick brushstrokes and vibrant colors merged to create a single striking image. It was beautiful not only because it looked so much like him and he was beautiful, but because it echoed the revolutionary artwork that he loved so much. Then all the tears I had bottled up during dinner came tumbling down.
I turned to Alex. "Why doesn't he love me?"
Before I even knew what I was doing, my head fell on his chest.
"Oh, Louis. My poor Louis."
His arms enveloped me.
Traffic sped up again and Alex brushed the tears off my cheeks. "Don't worry my pet, you're almost home."
"No, take me back to your place."
A/N: I know, I know... Don't kill me! I'll post the continuation of this scene on Friday.