Closed; Is It Valentines Day?
Something had shifted out in Barcelona with Cormac and it was so faint, so subtle, that Daphne barely even noticed until it happened. After that first night their weekend went on as planned, long days spent rolling around in the sheets with quiet lulls and stolen, softer moments. It was exciting but also extremely comforting, sharing a piece of her that she had locked away for so many years, getting to know somebody who was only interested in the person she was now rather than the person she used to be.
Once they returned to London she slipped just as easily back into every day life, doing her best to put whatever moments they had shared together in the back of her mind and convinced herself that it had all been a fluke. Drowning herself in fabric swatches and centerpiece samples kept the blissful, daydreaming smiles at bay until their dinner date Friday night, reminding herself that it was just a means to end up in his bed later that night. She wasn't ready to dive into anything, refusing to even, and she knew that Cormac wasn't either. That wasn't what they were doing.
They found themselves in an upscale French bistro, a mutual favorite as it would seem. It was an extremely busy night, couples dressed up and lined up out the door with hopes of stealing a canceled reservation rather than taking their chances on one of the many other bustling restaurants. While it was a Friday night, Daphne still found it so odd that the streets were so busy, after all it was absolutely freezing outside and the hour was late.
Though, wait lists and reservations meant nothing to Daphne Greengrass, they never had. It only took one look from the hostess to be promised their best table, pushing back reservations of couples who had no doubt called in days or even weeks before.
"She's setting the table for us now," Daphne told Cormac, beginning to unbutton her coat. With all of the people crowded the waiting area it was beginning to get warm and the last thing she wanted was for her curls to go limp.
Once they returned to London she slipped just as easily back into every day life, doing her best to put whatever moments they had shared together in the back of her mind and convinced herself that it had all been a fluke. Drowning herself in fabric swatches and centerpiece samples kept the blissful, daydreaming smiles at bay until their dinner date Friday night, reminding herself that it was just a means to end up in his bed later that night. She wasn't ready to dive into anything, refusing to even, and she knew that Cormac wasn't either. That wasn't what they were doing.
They found themselves in an upscale French bistro, a mutual favorite as it would seem. It was an extremely busy night, couples dressed up and lined up out the door with hopes of stealing a canceled reservation rather than taking their chances on one of the many other bustling restaurants. While it was a Friday night, Daphne still found it so odd that the streets were so busy, after all it was absolutely freezing outside and the hour was late.
Though, wait lists and reservations meant nothing to Daphne Greengrass, they never had. It only took one look from the hostess to be promised their best table, pushing back reservations of couples who had no doubt called in days or even weeks before.
"She's setting the table for us now," Daphne told Cormac, beginning to unbutton her coat. With all of the people crowded the waiting area it was beginning to get warm and the last thing she wanted was for her curls to go limp.