Leonidas and Daisy looked at each other.
“Yes?” he said.
“Sure?” she said.
“Cider,” the man demanded.
“Just water,” Leonidas replied. “Thank you.”
After the waiter departed, he looked at Daisy across the table. “You don’t really seem to like luxury. Fancy restaurants, fancy cars, fancy clothes.”
She suddenly looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude...”
“You’re never rude,” he said. “I’m just curious why?”
“More market research?”
“If you like.”
She sighed. “It all just seems so expensive. So...unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” He felt a little stung. “Would you call art necessary?”
Daisy looked at him with startled eyes. “Of course it’s necessary! It’s an expression of the soul. The exploration and explanation of what makes us human.”
“The same could be
said of clothing. Or makeup or perfume. Or food.”
She started to argue, then paused, stroking her chin.
“You’re right,” she admitted.
Leonidas felt a surge of triumph way out of proportion for such a small victory.
“Here,” the white-bearded man said abruptly, shoving plates at them with savory buckwheat galettes, filled with the traditional ham, cheese and a whole cooked egg in the middle.
“Thank you.” Daisy’s eyes were huge. Then she took a bite. The sound of her soft moan of pleasure shook Leonidas. “It’s—so—good,” she breathed, and holding her fork like a weapon, she gobbled down the large crepe faster than he’d ever seen anyone eat before. He looked at her, and could think of nothing else but wanting to hear her make that sound again.
“Would you like another?”
“Another?” She licked her lips, and he had to grip the table.
“Save room for—dessert—” He managed to croak out. If only the dessert could be in his bedroom, with her naked, like that time with the ice cream. That would be the perfect end to their meal. Or anytime. Forever—
“Are you going to eat that?” Daisy said, looking longingly at his untouched crepe.
He pushed it toward her. “Please take it.”
“Thank you,” she almost sang, as if he’d just done something worthy of the Nobel Prize. And she ate that one, too, in rapid time.
Leonidas couldn’t tear his eyes away as she lifted the fork to her mouth, before sliding it out again. As she leaned forward, her collar gaped, and he saw the push of her soft breasts against the hard wood of the table—
With a gulp, he looked away. A moment later, the plates were cleared.
“Ready for dessert?” the elderly man barked.
“Yes, please,” she said, smiling back at him warmly. “I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life.”