Holiday with the Best Man

Grace recognised the name of the place as one of the best restaurants in London. It had two Michelin stars and the food was legendary—and it was so far out of her budget that she’d never even dreamed of booking a table here for a special birthday. Yet she noticed that the maître d’ greeted Roland as if he was very well known here, then ushered them over to an intimate table for two.

She drank in her surroundings. This was definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity. The room was very light and airy, and was decorated in Regency style. There were Venetian glass chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, with beautiful art in gilded frames and a huge antique mirror hanging on the duck-egg-blue walls. The carpet was in a slightly darker shade than the walls, and her feet actually sank into it as she walked. The dark wood chairs had blue-and-cream-striped seats; the tables were covered with plain white damask cloths and were set with silver cutlery, with a simple arrangement of roses and a candelabrum in the centre.

‘This is amazing,’ she whispered when the maître d’ had seated her and left them to look at the wine menu, ‘but don’t you have to book a table here months in advance?’

‘Usually,’ Roland agreed with a smile.

Which meant there was a reason why Roland had been able to book a table at the last minute. ‘So did you go to school with the owner or something?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I just did a little bit of renovation work for them, about four years ago.’

‘They have one of your glass boxes here?’

‘Sadly not. Though I do like the idea of a glass wall between the restaurant and the kitchen so the customers can see their food being cooked,’ he said. ‘Possibly not for here, though, because it wouldn’t work with the architecture. I’ve booked the tasting menu for us, by the way. I hope that’s OK?’

‘More than OK, thank you. I’ve always wanted to do something like this,’ she said shyly.

‘And don’t feel that you have to stick to water just because I don’t drink,’ he added. ‘I’m perfectly happy for you to have the paired wines with each course if you’d like them.’

‘I don’t drink a lot,’ she said, ‘so it’d probably be a waste for me to do that. Maybe I could have one glass of wine, if they can recommend something?’

He spoke to the sommelier, who returned with a single glass of champagne and a bottle of water.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s really lovely.’

‘What I like about this place is the attention to detail,’ Roland said. ‘Maybe it’s the architect in me, but I like the fact they’ve kept the Regency styling right down to the glassware.’

She looked at the glass; the stem was sturdy and the bowl was conical, with an engraving of wine leaves just below the rim. ‘This is an antique glass?’

‘Reproduction—but a good one,’ he said.

The waiter brought out the amuse bouche—a sunflower seed crisp with a braised artichoke and a bay leaf cream. Grace had never seen anything so beautifully presented; it looked more like a work of art than a dish.

But the first mouthful was even more amazing; the combination of the tastes, the textures and the scent stunned her.

‘I’ve never had food this good before,’ she said in almost hushed tones. ‘The way the whole thing is put together and presented—it’s incredible.’

Roland looked pleased. ‘I hoped you’d enjoy this, seeing as you’re a foodie.’

‘Hey, I’m strictly amateur,’ she said ruefully. ‘But I like this very much indeed. Thank you so much for bringing me here.’

He smiled. ‘That’s what tonight’s about, doing something we both like. It’s nice to come here with someone I know will get this as much as I do.’

Grace wondered, had Lynette not liked this sort of thing? But she didn’t ask; it was too intrusive and might spoil Roland’s enjoyment of the evening. And Grace was determined to enjoy being swept off her feet, because she knew she’d never eat at a place like this again. Roland’s world was in a completely different league from her own.

Course after course followed, all cooked to perfection and plated beautifully. The staff were friendly and attentive without being over the top, and Grace started to lose her shyness and relax with Roland.

‘I hope you’ve got stamina,’ he said with a grin. ‘There are eight courses.’

‘Eight? That’s so greedy.’ But she grinned back. ‘Bring it on. I love everything about this. And, as you say, it’s nice to do something like this with someone who gets it.’