She sat down at the table draped in a little black dress that accented her cramine lipstick perfectly well.
Her thoughts lost in the excitment of anticipation as she asked the waiter for a glass of their finest white wine.
Her mind began to wonder if he'd show up.
Sure they'd been out a couple times before, but nothing like this.
His voice was serious and firm when he named the time and place and time in the text.
She began convincing herself with a million little reasons why he would'nt be there; why he shouldn't show up.
If it is, if it isn't; she was going to have a nice evening regardless.
Adjusting the watch on his wrist he entered the restaurant and asked the Maitre D' about the reservations he'd procurred several days earlier.
After a bit of confusion the Head Waiter accomodated him perfectly; ushering him to the empty seat across the table from the seat she adorned.
Inside she wanted to jump, but her face wouldn't show anything more than a pleasant smile.
"Glad you could make it" she manged to get out in a controlled fasion.
He looked down at his watch and then back to her eyes commenting in a shy voice:
"On time, I didn't want to rush in - you know what they say?"
She laughed and said "no, no I don't know what "they" say"?
He smiled and said " You know, only fools rush in..."
they both laughed a bit. It broke the ice, as he wondered if she'd get the Elvis song reference.
It didn't matter if she associated it with that or the Sandra Bullock movie, he knew she understand the heartfelt intent.
As the initial smiles wore from their face the waiter appeared at the table (it is amazing how they always show up at the perfect time during these perfect scenes) and asked the gentleman if he'd like anything to drink; while placing the menu in front of both of them and highlighting the Chef's suggestions for the evening.
He looked at her glass sitting there and told the waiter:
"I'll have the smoothest red blend you have" to which he resonded;
"I have the perfect selection in mind sir, please look over the rest of our cuisine".
He picked up the menu as she did the same.
He started to glance across the options on the page, but his mind could not rest. Was she even happy he was there? Or was she just hoping it was another night she could chalk up early to go hang out with her friends?
Was all he could think about.
He glanced up from the page hoping she wouldn't notice, and saw a slight grin gracing her cheeks; as she too pretended to stare at the options as well.
He went back to looking at the choices before him - he laughed to himself; as thoughts of her and their last few meetings crossed his mind.
She smiled and looked up towards the candle lit at the middle of the table and mentioned - "so many options, they all look so delicious".
He hid his blush and smiled a bit before looking back at her;
"I too find it quite delectable".
She smiled a bit wider before he caught himself;
"The Menu. I Mean"; he asserted as the moment went silent.
They set the empty paper's down at their plates and glanced at each other for a moment.
She picked up her glass of white wine and pressed it to her lips in order to contain the bigger laugh her gut wanted to wrench out from the nervous tension of the moment. The knot she knew they both felt, but neither would admit.
She took a small sip; leaving a perfect velvet stain at the edgs of the glass from the carmine lipstick that complemented her sheer black dress.
He couldn't help but notice her pretended subtlness as he drank from his chalet as well, "a bouquet so gorgeous served up to them", he thought as he took a drink.
Just then the server arrived to take their orders. He of course motioned that she, should first make the selection as pleased her palette. "I'll have the souris d’agneau." she said without missing a beat.
He followed with "poisson rouge" and another glass of your finest wine.
He leaned back into the chair picked up his glass and scanned the room; he realized she'd been here more than a time or two so he played it slower than normal.
He understood what it was like to be on that side of negotiations more time than anyone wants to admit. The ones that leave you broken, crying on the cold hard ground of life at the whims of ignorances arms.
She couldn't put up with tension anymore, grabbing her glass she took a deep quaff and set it firmly on the table.
She leaned in and stared at him dead in the eyes and said "Look, let's cut the B.S.! What do you say YOU and I "table" the games and talk about how it IS or IS'NT gonna be in this contract!?".
He took a slow drink and didn't let an expression of any kind cross his face. His mind thought "this is a woman who's been burned by boys for far too long", but he said nothing. He set his glass down and looked at her, he said; "look, I want nothing but your time. When you have it; I don't make contracts with women, just men".
Just then, the waiter arrived (see perfect timing again!) bringing out their dinners.
They began to play the appreciation game.
Hiding their quaintences of the table discussion.
We all know the ones where nothing we just said happened and what's in front of us is the "moment".
They spent the next many minutes playing the game of pleasantries most of us know as "small talk", about the food and how delicious the evening was; like nothing before had happend - we all know how it goes.
After a while, the waiter came and took their plates away.
Wiping away the reminants of the moment with his napkin, he broke the silence required of divulging in a feast fit for groomed people before speaking words:
""Contract?" he said. "My apoogies." I don't do contracts.
I do relationships; sorry if details got mixed up.
She grabbed the glass of wine and took a big drink, this statement took her aback a bit as she coughed setting it down; a bit surprised.
He continued, "take from me what you want, if it gets to burdensome I'll let you know. And oh yeah, I only have one rule." "But for now I have to go" he mentioned after looking down at his watch.
"Don't worry, it's all takin' care of". he assured her as he got up from his chair.
She said "Wait!. I'll walk you out?" as she stood up from the table recovering from her last drink.
He looked back and said, "No. Please lady, let me walk you out". And stood up waiting for her hand to clasp his.
They made their way to her car after leaving the restaurant, and felt themselves in that uncomfortable spot between a kiss and the words "goodnight".
She leaned back into the driver's side door with her hand hid behind the handle; ready to squeeze it into an escape, when he pressed his chest into hers.
His lips danced across the bottom of hers for moment before latching on to that final embrace. His hand worked slowly down the waterfall curls that graced her cheeks.
His thumb gently caressing the point where the jaw hugs the chin; when he felt her lips go from firm to soft in an instant of that goodnight kiss...and with that slight breath; yet not fully embrace he whispered "I hope to see you again" as the she sucked the last words right out of his breath; before parting for the night.
She sunk down into her seat and realized she knew what it was, she was in love...
[I could play a million greats to accompany this "moment" and this is just two, one or three of them ladies and gentlemen] -