“Oh, thank God,” Damon nearly kissed his plate when it was put in front of him, “I’m starving.”
“I’ve organized to go see the manager of the golf course after my hair appointment,” I told Damon as I cut into my perfectly cooked sole fish drizzled with a warm honey lemon dressing and sprinkled with crushed black pepper.
“Do you think he can get us that slot?” Damon asked, pouring heaps of salt onto his chips.
“You shouldn’t eat that much salt,” I told him, suppressing a shudder, “and once again, I’m not sure but we’ll see what the manager can do for us.” I hid a smile as I put the delicious morsel of fish in my mouth.
“I know,” Damon sighed, putting the salt down on the table. “There’s no ketchup!” He looks through the sauces on the table. “How can they not put ketchup on the table?”
“Because this is a five-star restaurant?” I said suggestively.
I took a sip of my wine as I allowed the bite of my delicious fish to settle. I really needed some white wine to pair with my fish. Red seemed so heavy with my nice healthy light meal. I hailed a waiter at the same time Damon spotted ketchup on a dining cart. The waiter stepped up to the table but he was carrying a tray stacked with two glasses of red wine and raspberry cheesecake.
Damon did not see the waiter and pushed his chair back, knocking into the man and sending his tray flying, with most of the contents landing on me and in my food! My hair, clothes, and purse were covered in red wine and raspberry cheesecake. My food was no longer edible as red wine formed ugly congealed blobs with the lemon sauce.
“Uh, oh!” Damon breathed. “Are you okay?” He asked the waiter who was so mortified he didn’t know where to try and clean with his pristine white cloth he’d pulled from around his forearm.
I was so shocked I sat there stunned for a few seconds, gasping for breath while red wine and cheesecake dripped from my hair, my boobs, and worse, my white skirt. Do you know what a red wine stain looks like on a woman’s white skirt?
To make matters worse, the waiter had tried to wipe off the lump of cheesecake that had landed on my hair, only to smear the cake and jelly topping further into my hair. I tried to wipe the sticky goop and red wine from my lashes but some of it got into my eye, and it burned like hell. I knew I shouldn’t but I had to rub, and when I took my finger away, all I saw was mascara cheesecake on my fingers staining my fresh manicure. Once the shock wore off, humiliation and anger rose inside me like a tidal wave. This was it. I’d freakin’ well had enough of this moron that only ever made a fool out of me whenever he was around me.
I didn’t care that my white skirt had a strategically planted red wine stain on it. Or that cheesecake comically dripped from my hair and oozed down the side of my face. I was drenched, sticky, hungry, tired, and extremely pissed off. I scraped my chair back, picked up my purse, grabbed the bottle of white wine off the tray of a passing waiter, and stormed off without a word to Damon. I didn’t trust myself to say anything to him or go near him right now; I had a powerful urge to kick him in the crotch and wipe that smile forever off his face.
“Carla,” Damon turned to follow me, “wait, I’m so sorry.” He was stopped by my new best friend Garry, the concierge, who’d obviously witnessed the entire episode.
“I think maybe you should let Miss Reynolds go get cleaned up,” I heard Garry say to Damon. “I take it this supper is for your room’s bill?”
I was so grateful to Garry; I had to remember to give him a huge tip when this trip was over. I was stopped by one of the waiters as I got to the lift. I thought he was trying to take my wine away from me. Turns out the poor man only wanted to give me an ice bucket, wine glass, and to open the bottle for me. I texted Garry to give the waiter a huge tip from Damon.
***
It had taken me twenty minutes to get the goop out of my hair. Housekeeping had magically appeared at my door thirty minutes later asking if they could have my stained clothes. The hotel was going to take care of the dry cleaning.
I was sitting in my fluffy robe with a fresh meal, my bottle of wine, and a complimentary butterscotch mousse pudding when my phone bleeped. It was Damon apologizing for what had happened and hoping we were still meeting the next day.