Chapter 97: Chapter 97
Amelia's POV
Tristan took my hand in his warm ones and asked, "Do you need something to drink?" I was acutely aware of his hot gaze that never left mine. His warm breath on my neck made me immensely aware of him. I didn't dare move my head, sitting rigidly like a statue. I was apprehensive that he would kiss me in front of everyone if I looked in his direction.
"Champagne will be fine," I told him, although I needed vodka to keep me sane. He called the steward and ordered two flutes of red champagne.
"Relax baby doll. I don't bite unless you want me to," he said with a small smile playing on his lips. I rolled my eyes at his cliché line.
"Please save those lines for someone else," I answered back, making him chuckle.
"For whom? There's no one else but you," he told me but I did note the solemnity in his tone. Did he really mean that? My heart skipped a beat or two hearing his words. I wanted to believe him so badly. I wanted to hope. I now realized the truth in the statement that a loving heart always clings to a ray of hope. Mine was no different since there was no knowing whether he was joking with me or being serious. Soon the drinks were served along with mini quiches filled with bacon and cheese. They looked so delicious that my mouth watered seeing the food. I suddenly remembered that I had skipped lunch in my haste today. It seemed Tristan was as hungry as I was. He glanced at me, his mouth-watering as well.
"Wow! I'm ravenous! I was so looking forward to this date with you that I forgot all about lunch today," he said with a grin. I was glad that he was just like I was where food was concerned.
"So did I," I replied with a grin.
"Great, then what's stopping you? Attack!" he said with a wide grin. So grinning at each other, we attacked the food like little children forgetting our little fights. It was so easy with Tristan, just like when we were kids, the awkwardness was gone in an instant and we relaxed with each other.
We stopped for 15 minutes to admire the Statue of Liberty, then passed the Brooklyn Bridge. Tristan held out his hand to me. Without a word, I placed my hand in his. He led me around the place and like a couple in love, we strolled around the deck, hand in hand, watching the starry night sky and the stunning Manhattan skyline at night. I was mesmerized by his deep voice, it made my heart flutter with hopes of a different tomorrow. Tristan told me about his college life and I too shared with him, bits and pieces about my life as well. I told him about my life in London, about Brittany, about the way she had always supported me. I came to know so much about him, about his business, his brothers, and his family. In the past, we had never talked so much on a one-to-one basis as he was always with Caleb. Strangely he didn't mention my brothers at all, especially Caleb and neither did I. I didn't want to spoil my date remembering them.
A sumptuous dinner was served with sparkling wine, creamy potato soup, Italian chopped salad, Italian skillet chicken, and chef's special tortellini with sausage served with cheese, fennel, and mushroom. There were slices of Swiss roll served with whipped cream and strawberries that made my mouth water.
"This is delicious," I said as I moaned appreciatively when the creamy tortellini melted in my mouth. Italian food was my weakness and Tristan knew it too well. What surprised me was that he hadn't forgotten it! I was acutely aware of Tristan's gaze hooked on my lips. Was I looking like a greedy pig?
"I'm glad you like it. Chef Ralph really whips up the best dishes on earth," he said, giving me an odd look, his glance going to my mouth occasionally. I consciously wiped my mouth and then again resumed eating but still, his glance seemed to be glued upon me. I wanted to scream in frustration and plead with him to stop staring and let me enjoy my food but instead, I just nodded agreeing with him. He didn't stop staring though and I just couldn't tell him anything.
Tristan suddenly looked behind me and stood up, stretching his hands for a shake. I turned around to see a good-looking man in his late twenties with dirty blonde hair styled up in a spiked hair-do and sparkling greyish black eyes, wearing a chef's jacket, approaching us. He smiled at Tristan and glanced occasionally at me.
"Hey, good to see you, Ralph, it's been a while," Tristan said, shaking his hand. The chef's smile widened and he looked genuinely happy to see Tristan.
Ralph pulled Tristan into a hug, "Hey T, yes it's been 8 years since I last saw you. I remember the food therapy I used on you, to overcome your depression," he said and Tristan looked somewhat uncomfortable and threw me a sideways glance. My mind was suddenly on high alert hearing the news. I was very curious to know what happened after I had left for London eight years ago.
I digested the news quietly. So did Tristan suffer from depression 8 years back? That was the time I was forced to go to London. Was his depression connected to my departure? My heart sank. I knew that my departure might have affected him a lot but at this point in time, I didn't want to spoil our mood by discussing the past. We had a lot of things to catch up on but maybe some other day. Tonight, I just wanted to enjoy the moment with him. Tristan seemed to silently communicate with Ralph and I just felt that maybe he didn't want Ralph to leak much information out. Maybe he still didn't trust me completely.