Page 49 of Villainous Mind
She looked stunning.
However, she could wear a burlap sack and still be gorgeous. It was hard to take away from her high cheekbones, big blue eyes, and full lips.
Dafydd pulled up in front of the Dorchester, and the valet opened the door, helping Navy out as I exited the other side. I tucked her arm in the crook of my elbow and escorted her into the building. It was November, and the hotel decked out for the festive season, shone with sparkly lights, colored baubles, and beautifully decorated trees. It was magical.
“Mr. Hughes,” a maîter d’ greeted us. “My name is Martin Bell. I’ll show you to your table.”
He led us to the back of the restaurant to la table Lumíere. A private table cocooned by a luminescent graduated curtain. The table was surrounded by over four thousand shimmering fibers, which dropped dramatically from the ceiling, allowing guests to enjoy the ambiance of the restaurant while being nearly screened from the view of other patrons.
Martin pulled out Navy’s chair as she sat down, wide-eyed. I unbuttoned the jacket on my tux, sitting across from her, and adjusted my tie.
“It’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said, looking around. The lights shimmered off the polished silver and crystal glasses, casting small rainbows along the table.
“I’m glad you like it.”
The sommelier came by, opening a bottle of white and pouring a small amount into my glass. “Edmon Vatan Sancerre Clos la Neore 2017, Mr. Hughes.”
“The lady can tell me if it is acceptable,” I said, cocking a brow.
He poured a small amount into Navy’s glass. “Ms. Bardot,” the sommelier said.
She bit her lip before picking up her glass and taking a small sip. “It’s delicious.”
“Very good.” He topped off our glasses and set the wine bottle in a silver wine chiller before leaving.
“Why did you make me taste it? I don’t think I’m qualified,” she said.
“Of course you are. You either like it or you don’t. It’s that simple.” I laughed.
I reached out, setting my hand on top of hers.
“I’m not used to things like this,” she admitted.
“No one is. This is pretend. Make believe. But I want to give it to you, and I want you to enjoy it. So, take a deep breath and relax.”
“I’ll try.”
It was a tasting menu. Seven courses of small plates ranging from hand-dived scallops and Kristal caviar to Cornish turbot and an assortment of French cheese. She ate everything, laughing and smiling between dishes as the wine switched from white to red according to what was served.
“I need to use the loo,” I said, standing up and excusing myself before dessert was served.
“Hurry back.”
I kissed her on the cheek before exiting our cocoon. Making my way through the restaurant, I caught a couple whispering at a table in the corner. I made my way over. “Well, if it isn’t Dickie Granger and the wonder boy.”
Sam’s face paled. “You’re looking a bit green, Atterbury,” I said. “Drink too much last night.”
“Do you know this man?” Richard asked Sam.
“Um, he’s a friend of Navy Bardot,” the boy muttered.
“Ah, she’s a bit of a skirt. It’s a shame she didn’t work out.”
“It’s hard when someone steals your work and puts their name on it,” I sneered. “Unethical.”
“What’s he talking about, Sam?” Granger asked. “You wrote that story.”
“Of course I did,” Sam uttered. “I’m not sure what he’s talking about.”