Indelible Love - Emily's Story (35 page)

Jake turned to me and asked, “What are
you thinking right now?”

“I was thinking that our private
lesson at the Escoffier was about the coolest thing I’ve ever done
in my life!”

“You liked it that much?” Jake seemed
quite surprised that a cooking school would make such an impression
on me.

“If life would have turned out
differently for me when I was younger, I probably would’ve gone to
cooking school after undergrad. I feel most comfortable in a
kitchen. Maybe one day when I’m retired, I’ll enroll in a cooking
school just for fun. Thanks to you, I’ve checked off another thing
I’ve always wanted to do. Thank you.”

Jake stopped walking and turned to
look at me. I saw that same sadness in his eyes again. He was
imaging what my life must have been like after I’d lost my parents.
He stroked my cheeks with the back of his two fingers and lovingly
gazed into my eyes. At first, I was uncomfortable standing so still
in the middle of a busy street. But with the touch of his lips, I
knew that Jake would make up for me the life that he thought I’d
missed.

I broke out of our embrace and asked,
“What’s next? This is so much fun! I might never want to
leave.”

Jake laughed and walked me toward
Chanel.

“What’s at Chanel?”

“We’re going to eat at Alain Ducasse’s
Le Jules Vernes at the Eiffel Tower tonight. You need to pick out a
dress.”

“What about you?”

“I brought a suit. If you can’t find a
dress here, we can go to another store.”

I couldn’t imagine not finding
something that I liked at Chanel. The only dilemma I’d foresee was
the price tag.

“Jake, I can’t buy a dress at Chanel.
Let’s go somewhere else. This is way out of my comfort zone.”
Spending an insane amount of money on a dress I’d wear once
screamed against my common sense.

“Love, I have one dress picked out for
you already. Will you humor me and try it on? I’d like to see what
it looks on you.” His encouraging words nudged me into an
unapproachable shop.

The sales gals led me to a
dressing room and had me try on a modern version of Coco Chanel’s
little black dress. This sleeveless black wool dress was cut above
the knee with a simple buttoned belt sewn into the dress. The skirt
of the dress had loose pleats that gave it a slightly bouffant
feel. The dress was perfect. In addition, the sales lady picked out
a pair of muted white patent leather boots with a thin strip of
black patent leather at the top that came up about one inch above
my knee. Truth be told, I loved the outfit. Minus the sunglasses,
pearl choker, and an updo, I felt like Holly Golightly in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.
I stepped out of the dressing room to show Jake.

“You look stunning!” He enunciated
each of the three words.

“We’ll take the entire outfit,” he
said to the lady.

Watching Jake pay for the dress—in
addition to this entire trip—made me horribly uncomfortable. When
this trip was initially planned, details of who would pay for what,
never arose, as all I wanted was to be with Jake. Now that this
fantasy has come true, I needed to have an awkward conversation
with him and tell him I had no financial expectations from him. The
Ritz, private cooking lessons, a Chanel dress, and dinner at Alain
Ducasse’s restaurant did not feel right in my world. I couldn’t
deny enjoying the indulgence, but the impropriety of delighting in
such luxuries made me feel guilty.

As we walked out of the store, Jake
immediately sensed the change in my mood.

“Do you not like the dress? Are you
upset I didn’t give you a choice in this matter? I just thought you
looked so stunning…” Jake worried too much about my feelings at
times.

“No, no. I love the dress. It’s
beautiful and practical as well. I can wear it multiple
times.”

“Then why do you look
unhappy?”

“It’s just…this trip…we never
discussed how we’d pay for it. Please don’t feel obligated to
provide everything for me. I’d like to pay for
something…”

“Emily!” he cut me off before I
embarrassed myself any further. “The word obligation does not exist
in our relationship. What I do for you stems from love and desire.
I don’t need or want anything from you but you. What can you
possibly buy me that’s more precious than you?”

“It’s not just the material
possessions I’m talking about. You’ve showered me with love from
the start. I didn’t actualize or verbalize this love till recently.
You’ve taken me on trips, and brought me gifts and I feel like all
I’ve done was received. I’m ashamed that I’ve only started
reciprocating.” As I uttered these words, I realized how true this
statement described our relationship.

“Emily. Back in New York, when I was
stupid enough to go chasing after your ring rather than stopping
you from leaving, then back at home, when you left me nothing but a
letter and ran off to Japan, I promised myself that if we ever got
a chance to be together again, I would spare nothing of myself.
Whether material or emotional, what I have is all yours. And I know
that materially, if our situations were reversed, you would do the
same for me. So please, let me dote on you the way I’ve dreamed of
for so many months while you were away. OK? What happened to your
‘you lead and I’ll follow’ motto?”

Could I possibly love a better man
than this one?

“All right,” I answered. “I love you,
Jake.”

“I love you too. Now let’s get ready
for dinner.”

We got ready in our separate rooms and
Jake came over while I was finishing up my makeup. His naughtiness
resurfaced when I asked him to help me zip up the rest of my dress.
Rather than helping me, he unzipped my dress, and draped his cold
hands onto my body. He hands quickly crept up the front side while
kissing the back of my neck. I turned to face him and tried to
loosen his grip. He had a strong hold on me as he continued to
caress my neck with his lips. There was no use fighting this
battle, as he was much stronger. Using this as an excuse, I gave
into both our desires. His hands traced over my back while his lips
traveled to my chin. My hands wrapped around his neck and I brought
his head up to join our lips.

Without a fight, my little black dress
fell to the ground.

At this point my mind waged war on my
body. Should I see this all the way through or should I stop Jake
now? My body quivered, “Yes!” My mind retaliated with a “No!” Ugh.
What a war this was. I wanted my body to win, but my mind was still
stronger. I sighed! I’d been patient up until now, what was a bit
longer till I got married? My mind won.

“Jake!” I pleaded. “Jake? Honey?
Please, don’t.” My weak plea did nothing to alter his
determination. My body was hoping it wouldn’t. Now that the dress
was off, his lips and hands ran amok.

I would try once more and figured if
this didn’t work, I’d concede to both of our desires.

“Jake…I’d really like to honor my
mom’s wish and stay a virgin till I get married. Please?” I begged
one last time.

That stopped him in his tracks. He
acquiesced grudgingly. He let me go and walked away while I got
back in my dress and finished getting ready.

He muttered something that sounded
like, “I gotta get this done soon.” He was probably trying to find
some other way to woo me into bed.

Dinner at the Eiffel Tower was almost
as spectacular as the view. We could see striking views of the city
with many impressions of the tower’s intricate metal latticework.
It was unbelievable to think that three hundred men built this
structure in one year.

“Did you know,” I said while taking a
bite of my grilled sea scallop, “that Sarah and I didn’t have time
to visit the Eiffel Tower when we were in Paris?”

“Why not?” Jake asked, while enjoying
his pan-seared veal with crispy spinach.

“Well, it was our last night in Paris,
and we decided to splurge and go have a meal at Guy Savoy. Our meal
took almost four hours and by the time we were done, the tower was
closed. I’m glad we got to come today. We’ll have to take a picture
and e-mail it to Sarah.”

When we got back in the car the driver
took us on a scenic tour of the city. We saw the tower lit up from
the ground, and we followed the Seine into the Rive Gauche.
Revelers sat outside cafes and brasseries on Boulevard St. Germain
des Pres sipping their lattes and grabbing a bite to eat. On the
way back, our driver came up the Rive Droit and drove through
Champs Elysees again.

“Today was beyond a doubt the most
perfect day I could’ve imagined. I’d be content to go home
tomorrow, it was so ideal. Thank you, Jake.”

Jake looked satisfied that I was
happy.

“So what’s on tap for tomorrow?” I
asked with a smile. “How could you possibly top today?”

“You start your day with more cooking
classes. In fact, there’s a cooking class every morning for you at
6:30 a.m. They’ll take you through their entire program in the week
that we’re here.”

“Are you serious?” My arms and legs
flailed up and down in excitement as we walked back into the hotel.
A few hotel guests turned around to see the crazy
American.

“If you want to do it, show up at the
Escoffier school by 6:30 every morning.”

We stood outside my door and I asked
Jake what he planned on doing while I was at my cooking
class.

“I’ll be asleep. You can bring me
breakfast every morning when you’re done.”

“Deal!” I said. “I’m so excited, I
won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“Glad you like it. Go in and rest. You
have an early morning,” Jake said kissing my lips.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m only coming in if you let me
stay. I won’t have the willpower to leave tonight.”

My mind fought with my body again. I
sighed and let him go.

“Good night,” I murmured, while
kissing him back.

Today was truly the most magical day,
and could have only been better if Jake had proposed. With such a
romantic setting as the Eiffel Tower, Jake might have been
encouraged to propose again if my first rejection hadn’t scared him
off. Oh well. I shouldn’t dwell on it. I appreciated what I had
now.

The alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., and
without any struggle, my body gleefully got up and got ready for
cooking class. I put on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and the Ritz
apron I received yesterday. In class, there were two other students
ready for our intensive lesson.

Today’s lesson: French
Sauces.

To start, the chef had us make
chicken, beef, and veal stock, which would be used today, as well
as tomorrow, for our meat course. Once we got all the ingredients
in the pot for the stocks, we attempted such sauces as Bearnaise,
beurre blanc, and bourdelaise. French cooking definitely wasn’t
easy. Chef Geurlaine also taught us to make a variety of salad
dressings. We packaged all our sauces and dressings, and placed
them in the refrigerator ready to be used with the meat courses
tomorrow. By the end of class, I had learned a solid foundation in
French sauces—another fantastic morning to an already amazing
trip.

Tiptoeing into Jake’s room, I found
him dressed but back asleep on his bed. He looked just as sweet as
he did back in Hawaii but this time insecurity didn’t creep into my
heart. We were meant to be together, and if in the future our
relationship didn’t work out, I’d be content knowing we had a
chance. I placed breakfast on the table and slowly crept into his
bed and snuggled into his body. He smiled and cradled his arms
around me.

“Hi Beautiful. How was class this
morning?” he asked half asleep.

“Excellent,” I replied with a jubilant
voice. “I have breakfast for you if you like.”

“I am hungry…but am enjoying laying
here with you in my arms.”

“Why are you dressed but
asleep?”

“I got an early phone call so I got
ready for the day but felt so groggy I decided to go back to sleep.
Jet lag must have caught up with me last night.”

“Do you want me to leave so you can
sleep some more?”

“No.” He cut me off and let go of me.
“I’m ready to get up. We have an appointment with Henri at
Boucheron this morning. We should get going.”

Boucheron? Wasn’t this the
jewelry store Jake visited yesterday? Why would we have an
appointment?

Asking Jake what was going on was on
the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t want to seem presumptuous and I
didn’t want to pressure him into proposing.

As thoughts of Boucheron wouldn’t
leave my mind, no different scenarios, aside from a proposal,
played in my head. Jake stared at me with a smug gaze. Once again,
Jake piqued my curiosity.

We left the hotel and walked to
Boucheron. It was excruciating waiting for an explanation that
never came. Jake talked about the day and told me that we were
going to the Louvre and then to a soccer game after
lunch.

“You can’t come to Europe and not
watch these nationals go crazy over their soccer team. France is
playing Italy today. It’ll be a great match up. We’ll have a car
take us to the stadium.”