Cafe Romance (15 page)

Unaccustomed to eating at high end restaurants, he walked to the front of the
Café
and paused to absorb the splendor of the place. Gracing the front of the restaurant was a black waist high wrought-iron enclosure, which was covered by a dark green canopy, which housed an outdoor dining area of about eight round, cloth-covered, candle lit tables. On either sides of the bricked wall entrance were two brass and glass paneled outdoor lanterns. An illuminated glass encased menu board was mounted to the right of the entrance. It reminded Kurt of those dainty European outdoor eateries he had visited during his four-year stint in the navy. All that was missing was Cinderella's horse drawn carriage. Kurt resumed his advance and headed inside, the red carpet guiding the way.

The interior of the restaurant
was dimly lit but only enough to create the soft romantic mood it was meant to set. Once his eyes adjusted to the level of the room ambiance he could make out two dining sections. A bar area sat to the left. To his right was a wall lined with eight dining booths, with Brandywine-colored leather seats. The center section contained several round tables, all clothed in Battenberg laced tablecloths, all candle lit. Thick red candles, they were. The outer walls were panels of Scarlet Oak, lined with decorative framed portraits of the French Riviera and Paris at each booth. Each painting appeared to be original three by four masterpieces.

Within minutes Kurt was seated at a booth for two. As far as he could see the restaurant was filled to capacity. And it was true. The place looked like a who's who of doctors, judges, lawyers, politicians, and executive types.

Turning, he scanned the place one more time. No celebrity sightings, though. 

A pleasant smiling waitress appeared and took his order and vanished into the vast room but not before he asked her the location of the men's room.

"Go to the far end of the bar, then hang a left. Second door on the right, sir."

"Thank you," he replied warmly. There was no way he could know that the events waiting to unfold upon his return would forever change his life and destiny.

C
hapter 9

I
t was another busy afternoon
,
but today’s atmosphere appeared more festive, Yvette noticed. Perhaps it was because Hollywood was in town to film a movie and not far from the restaurant There were even rumors that negotiations were going on with the owner of
Café Le Soir
for several major scenes to be shot there, inside the restaurant.

After weeks of rumors and increasing speculation Yvette decided to approach the owner for clarification but he only added more fuel to the fire by saying that yes he had been approached about the possibility of using the restaurant in the movie and had an upcoming meeting with one of the movie producers. He told her that a month earlier, when the independent film company was scouting for locations, they dropped in for a late evening meal and were impressed with the place and the service so much that they decided to shoot some scenes there. That’s all the owner would say on the matter. Anyway, it was time for a break and now appeared as good a time to go downstairs and have lunch, Yvette decided.

After a brief search, she found the menu sheet in the pile of paperwork on her desk and reviewed it. Today's lunch menu: Herbed Gefilte Fish wrapped in cabbage leaves, Ragout of Salmon in Sorrel Sauce and Sausage - rah-goo, as she often had to correct new hirees, and Zucchini and Bell Pepper Frittata. Today's desserts: Cappuccino Sundae, Ginger and Chocolate Chunk Sundae with Strawberries and Brandy Snaps with fresh Georgia Peaches and a pinch of cinnamon.   

Yvette decided on the ragout of salmon in sorrel sauce, a light wine, and the cappuccino sundae for dessert. Taking a seat with her co-worker and friend, Patricia, an assistant chef, who had dropped by to pick up her paycheck, the two talked and traded casual conversation.

Nearing the final portions of her dessert Yvette paused as she caught a glimpse of a distant but familiar face walk briskly out of the restaurant, apparently after paying for his meal. It was an eternity before she finally came to life and her senses.

Politely excusing herself from the table, she stood up and hurriedly made her way towards the entrance of the restaurant. This was not an easy thing to do during the peak business hour. By the time she appeared outside the man with the familiar face had rode off into the busy afternoon traffic on a familiar looking bike.

It was him! She was certain of it. It was her rescuer from over a month ago. “Oh God!” she murmured, over and over. She wanted to call out to him but she did not even know his name. “I don’t believe this is happening to me again,” she said with a look of bewilderment. How could fate treat me this way, she thought?  If only she had known, or had any idea, that he would drop by for lunch today she would have kept an eye out for him.

Turning, she felt crushed. Perhaps he’d return another day. But before that thought could fade from view she felt a mild state of panic with her next thought. The menu! What if their pricey up-scaled menu had scared him off?

In that one instance, she was horrified by the notion that he may have dined, for the first and last time, at a place he could not readily afford. If so, her chances of ever seeing him there again were slim. After all, this was one of the most expensive restaurants in the area.

With that thought fresh in her mind, she immediately set out to quietly ask about his order from the waitress who had served him. Her findings revealed that he had pretty much ordered the same entree as she had, except for dessert he chose the brandy snaps with fresh Georgia peaches. Unfortunately, he provided no personal information about himself to the waitress
...
no name, no clue whatsoever to his identity or occupation.

It wasn’t much but through discovery she now knew that he paid cash for his meal and she had only a sampling of what he liked to eat. What a bummer, she thought, then murmured, “Who can afford to pay with cash anymore?”

C
arlotta Jones, a young ex-Air Force member, came abundantly packaged with intelligence, charm, wit, and natural beauty. She had just completed a four-year tour with the Air Force three weeks prior to her interview at the job services center. She would have stayed Air Force had not her whole world came crumbling down around her, a result of an affair with the husband of her rather bitchy executive commander, which had come to light just days before her reenlistment, she told Kurt. As a result, she was demoted a full rank, fined, and forced out of the service. None of this would have happened, she thought, had her two-year old marriage not crumbled towards the midway point of her tour. 

Divorced from her husband two years into her tour, Carlotta had grown weary of being alone. She did not like the idea of being without a man. Some women are just that way. Better yet, why couldn’t her husband Chuck be faithful for the three lousy months she was overseas on special assignment, she pondered? After all, she had been. And it wasn’t any easier for her. As she told Kurt, “Had it not been for that goddamn Victoria “
Vickie
” Henderson, the off base housing slut, Chuck and I would still be together.”

“How did this come about?” Kurt asked, mildly curious.

“Well, as Chuck explained it to me
…
he was out jogging one morning, and their paths crossed. A conversation ensued, a statement by one of them about being hungry followed, and Vickie, in a gesture of neighborly kindness, invited him over for some refreshments. Problem is, Chuck wound up getting more than her initial offer.”

“It seems that way,” Kurt added.

Carlotta insisted that she would have never found out about the illicit affair had Chuck not dashed semi-nude into the night air as people peered out of their doors and windows to see what all the commotion was about, buck shots whisking by him as he made good his escape. Fortunately for him, his lover’s husband was a lousy shot. On the downside, however, Chuck and Victoria were the talk of the base for weeks. As she emphasized to Kurt, “I couldn’t take it anymore. So, a month later, I filed for divorce. But it doesn’t stop there. Somehow I got caught up in an interracial affair, of my own volition, with my bitchy superior’s husband. Damn right! I let her ass know that she wasn’t the only Black woman who could get
white chocolate
.”

Kurt could not help but chuckle, as his brown eyes took her in. Fortunately, when she left the Air Force she left with a solid job skill in computer applications.

After her unsolicited and graphically touching story ended, he paused to collect his thoughts. With great confidence, he said, “Carlotta, I don’t anticipate you having much difficulty finding work in the civilian world. The computer field is definitely wide opened,” he assured her.

Carlotta smiled but said nothing. She was content to observe Kurt in silence, as he quietly went about completing his paperwork.

"You know, what this office needs is a woman's touch," she chanced to say unexpectedly aloud, almost as if it were an afterthought. She was a woman who believed in the straightforward approach. And she knew where she was headed with this.

"A woman's touch?" he mused, glancing up at her.

"Yes, a woman's touch," she echoed. "You have nothing on your walls or your desk. No pictures, no certificates, no clues. There's nothing here that's revealing about you."

"Perhaps that's because I am a very private person, Mrs. Jones," Kurt replied politely, returning to his paperwork.

"Are you married?" she asked, leveling her eyes at him until he acknowledged her gaze.

"Yes, I am," he said, after a brief pause.

"Then you should have a picture of your wife on display."

"Well, actually, we're separated," Kurt paused to say, only to return to his typing at his computer terminal.

"I’m sorry. I didn't mean to go there.” Like hell she didn’t.

There was an ominous pause.

"It's okay. No apologies necessary," Kurt said, breaking the ice.

"Well, since you put it that way I guess that means there's still a chance," she quipped in a seductive tone.

"A chance for what, Ms. Jones?" he said sitting more erect on the edge of his chair, his fingers poised an inch above the keyboard.

"A chance for me," she said playfully, as she gave him another wanton gaze.

“Ms. Jones, are you flirting with me?”

“Just making conversation. At this time, that is.”

"Speaking of time, Ms. Jones," he said, redirecting the focus of the conversation back to business, "You’ll need to stop by the Veteran's Affairs representative's office, down the hall, before leaving. He assured me that he has two very good and very solid leads for you. I hope you remembered to bring your DD214 form along with you.”

"Thank you," she said, rising up. "And yes, I brought my form."

"Great!  Anyway, good luck and I hope the best for you Ms. Jones in your job search."

Turning to face him, she smiled, adding, "It’s Carlotta and I want you to remember this one thing. When I walk out this door, you're looking at the best. Remember that in
your
search."

"I really don’t remember saying that I was searching for anything. Just the same, you have a great day," he smiled nervously.

There was a spark of interest in his eyes, she was convinced At least a passing curiosity, she was sure. Carlotta could only hope that her words, as well as her body by Jake, had left a lasting impression on him. 

            Two appointments later, Kurt glanced down and checked his timepiece. It read a few minutes before noon. Reflecting on his morning schedule he smiled and shook his head. It had been quite hectic, however, the likes of Carlotta Jones and Maria Lopez made it interesting. Well, perhaps more than interesting.

C
hapter 10

A
fter hitting the fast food circuit for most of the past week, Kurt had grown tired of greasy cheeseburgers, salt-coated fries, factory made salads, and syrupy colas. Only twice that week had he bagged what could be considered a healthy lunch. Now it was that time to indulge in some fine cuisine. It had been a week since his last visit to
Café Le Soir,
so he decided to return there today
.

By taking a late lunch, Kurt avoided the heavy crowd he had run into head-on during his last visit. Once there, a diminutive college-aged hostess escorted him to a cloth covered table where he sat down. To his surprise, the waitress who served him on his first visit appeared. Once again, she presented him with a glass of water, a lunch menu, and wine list before she spun off into the distance. After a courtesy review, he looked up from his menu.

Leveling his eyes, his gaze swept slowly around the room. Entering the dining room area were three older couples. All six were dressed like business professionals, like most of the others there. Only a handful of customers were casually dressed. Still, they looked like big money.

Clearing his throat, he leaned back in the chair and opened the menu wide to sort through it and this time with deliberation.

It was Friday, meaning it was fish day. For many high end family restaurants in the Tampa Bay area this meant deep fried Catfish nuggets, Cajun-cooked Ocean Trout, Grilled Fillet of Perch, Savory Baked Halibut, Neptune Fried Squid, Broiled Lobster Tail, Fried Jumbo Shrimp, O’Brien Potatoes, filet of fish sandwiches, burgers, and curly fries, for the kids. Clam Chowder and tossed salad, light appetizers, were probably available to jumpstart their menus. Nothing but the ocean's best for the average paying customer.

Kurt knew better, though. It wasn’t even a tossup. Not with the delectable choices he had before him. For patrons of the five-star
Café Le Soir,
fish day meant
:
Roast Monkfish with Caramelized Onions and Tart Cherry Sauce, Grilled Tuna wrapped in Swiss chard with Anchovy Sauce, and Green-lipped Mussels and Manila Clams with Spinach Spaghettini and Garlic Sauce. The midday dessert menu
:
Pears and Prunes in Zinfandel syrup with Cinnamon Dumplings, Muscat Ice Cream in Ginger Tuiles, and Orange Raisin Tea Cake with Sweet Wine Glaze. Kurt decided on the green-lipped mussels and manila clams with spinach spaghettini and garlic sauce. For dessert he ordered the orange raisin teacake with sweet wine glaze. Since he was on the clock the rest of the day, he ordered a virgin Strawberry Daiquiri to drink.