Cafe Romance (17 page)

"I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed your company, Yvette," he said rising up. “And the food.”

Watching him go deep into his pants pocket, she quickly added, "Please, lunch is on me today."

”Thank you. That's very kind, very thoughtful of you, but I'm more than happy and willing to pay for this rather delicious meal," he replied with a charming smile.

"No. I insist," she smiled, her voice ringing with resolve.

"Okay, okay, you win," Kurt chuckled lightly, shaking his head amusingly.

"It’s my way of thanking you, that's all."

"I understand. That’s very thoughtful of you," he said, giving her a smile that sent her pulse racing. "You know, I just may drop in tomorrow, after all."

"That would be nice," she replied, barely above a whisper.

“Goodbye,” the two uttered almost simultaneously.

That night as he sat at his computer, trading stocks over cyber wire, his mind often drifted back to the
Café
and the lovely woman with the enchanting gaze and warm smile and wondered what it all meant. Could it be she was just overly gracious of his heroic efforts, as she had stated, or was there a deeper meaning to her enthusiasm and kindness. An interest perhaps? Suddenly Leslie invaded his thoughts. But why? And why now? It had been a while since he last heard from her. And it had been a while since he felt the urge to call her.

T
he following morning began with a heavy fog that did not lift until around 9:00AM. While riding his bike to work, which was five blocks west, Kurt narrowly missed being hit by a reckless speeding truck driver. It was a close call. Another inch or more and he would have hit him.

“What an asshole!” he leered, quite peeved off. Where was a peace officer when you needed one, he pondered?

His first client was former US Marine Corporal Chad Mitchell, who had completed two tours with the United States Marine Corps. With the Iraqi and Afghanistan wars winding down, he had been forced to leave the corps with severance pay as a result of military downsizing. Chad, the son of a Tennessee dairy farmer, was married with an expectant wife and a young school-aged son. Fortunately, he was nearing the completion of his associates’ degree at the community college. He was studying to be an air-conditioning repairman. To his credit, he had learned basic electronics while serving with the corps, which helped him get into the civilian course. With less than two months left before graduation Chad was anxious to jump into the job market. After inputting some information on the terminal, Kurt gave him the required forms to sign and referred him to the VA representative in the building. There was never a dull day at this office, he mused.

His next client was Laura Hughes. Laura had told him on a prior visit that she had lived off of welfare for the better part of her life, having never aspired to doing anything else. But since the implementation of the welfare reform act, and the rising cost of food, she found herself left with little choice, at the time, but to seek out employment. Many of her friends, who were once welfare dependents, had long gone out, gotten trained, and obtained jobs. Laura felt that she could, too.

Surprisingly, for a forty-two year old woman who had brought eight children into the world, Laura was still very much an attractive woman. She had a respectable command of the English language and boasted she was the best at sewing. She had to be with eight children to clothe and little money to go around for new clothing. At one point in her life she had considered becoming a seamstress, but when she became pregnant with her fourth child, she abandoned that goal.

“You know, I see great potential in you,” Kurt said spiritedly. “My best advice to you is get your GED first. Believe me that will greatly enhance your chances of getting employed.”

“You really think so?”

“Think so? I know so, Laura.”

After he assured her he would do his best to help her get temporary work, he referred her to a government grant program that was in place to assist with childcare and transportation. After having her sign some forms he escorted her from the office. Another life influenced, he hoped.

Returning to his office, he sat down. Pushing his chair back, his mind began to drift away from his job. In its place he began to think about his lovely damsel in distress, Yvette. Though he tried his best to fight it, his thoughts of her would not go away. When he thought of her a warm glow enveloped him, which stayed with him throughout the day.
What was she doing right now?
He wondered. And was she thinking of him? And if she was, what exactly was she thinking about him?

C
hapter 11

Y
vette walked into her living room bearing a tray with cheese, thinly sliced smoked sausage and crackers, and holding a glass of mountain spring water. It was one of those sinful snacks she indulged in occasionally, always careful to watch her weight. Also on the tray was her usual nightcap blend of three different vitamins, all, which she would chase with chilled spring water.

Sitting down on the recliner she placed the tray on her robed lap and picked up the phone to call Juanita. The two indulged in small talk, then the big-ticket item, her close encounter with her handsome rescuer at the restaurant. Juanita asked Yvette questions about Kurt she had not asked him herself, though she had every intention of asking the next time she saw him. After their conversation and the late news, she finished off her snack and retreated to her bathroom to brush her teeth. Walking back into the bedroom she hung her robe on a wood hanger and climbed into bed, completing the day. Perhaps tomorrow would bring in more customers
…
one in particular named Nathaniel Kurt Douglass.

The following morning could not come fast enough for Yvette. Normally early morning awakenings did not appeal to her
…
far from it, but this morning was different. Glancing over at the clock she saw that it was a just little before six. Just the sheer anticipation of possibly seeing Kurt again kept her tossing and turning throughout the night. After a warm shower she dressed and tended to her hair.

Though she looked great outwardly, she couldn’t help but feel dreadful inside. She felt bloated and cramped. And she knew what the problem was. "Of all the days to have my menses," she murmured. Normally, she would call in sick the first day of her
menses
, but the thought of not seeing Kurt was far too real for her. Nothing was going to keep her from seeing him today. Not even a light flow.

T
oday was the beginning of International Cuisine Week at
Café Le Soir
. For one full week every year the menu reflected a variety of cuisines, one country for each day of the week, in celebration of worldwide culinary arts. This year's festive meals would feature recipes from Greece, Spain, Morocco, China, Argentina, France, and Germany. Today's cuisine was Chinese
:
Cantonese shrimp, Szechwan fish, Kung Pao shrimp with cashew nuts, chicken in hot pepper sauce, Five-spice beef with broccoli, and Caramelized spareribs. Today's soups
:
Peking-styled soup, Turkey soup with black mushrooms, and Crab soup with ginger. Today's desserts
:
kiwi and coconut duo, Peking toffee apples, sweet bean wontons and exotic fruit salad. Some entrees were slated for the lunch menu and others for the dinner menu. In keeping with the spirit of community the
Café
had invited one of the local Chinese chefs to come in and oversee some of the preparation and share some Cantonese cooking techniques with the resident chef, Renardo Rossetti.

On a day that promised good cooking, Kurt began his on a good note. He began by phoning his lawyer and accountant to discuss a special project with them designed to benefit, not only older people, but disadvantaged youths, especially those at the high school level who needed tutorial and material assistance in math, science, and English. His overall plan was to establish a non-profit organization, which had at its head a permanent and professional staff consisting of a director, a supervisor, and a hired staff of six part-time graduate students and an additional four to eight undergraduate college seniors who would do volunteer tutoring at the center in exchange for internship-type credit hours towards their education degree program.

Excited about the proposal, he asked his accountant to fly down from Philadelphia to meet with him and a lawyer friend, who was already in the Tampa Bay area on personal business. Both would represent Kurt the following day at a meeting with local government and college officials and several business executives. Kurt, who wished to remain anonymous, had no intention of attending the meeting. He was satisfied to work behind the scene, at this point in time. Within an hour of his phone conference he headed off to work. 

S
etting her reading glasses aside, Yvette powered down her computer and looked over at Patricia, the assistant chef, and announced that it was time for lunch. Patricia agreed but said she would wait until after the restaurant closed for lunch to get something to eat.  An abundance of work awaited her in the kitchen, she added. A former chef herself, Yvette said she understood.

Patricia thanked Yvette and with the recipe printouts in hand, rose and departed the office. After a quick touch-up of her hair, Yvette headed out of the office to eat lunch.

Surveying the dining room, which was adorned with colorful hanging Chinese lanterns, and other silky Asian decor, she spied Kurt dining alone. That instance, the butterflies returned inside, her blood now coursing through her veins like an awakened river. Inhaling softly, she regained her poise and returned her gaze to him.
God, what a handsome man
, she thought.
And damn fashionable, too
. He was dressed in a pinstriped brown suit and complimentary tie and seemed unaware of her surveillance.

Clearing her throat, she made her way over to where he sat, feeling as nervous as one can feel meeting someone new and exciting for the second time but then an unsuspecting calm overtook her the moment he looked up into her eyes and smiled. As he rose to greet her, she met the smile and the hand that was offered her. For reasons unknown to her she found comfort in his gaze and his reassuring touch and for that moment everything was just right.

Kurt invited her to join him and for the second time in two days she sat before her modern day knight.
What a smile
, she thought.
What a wonderful set of teeth
, she noticed too.
God, he was probably a great kisser, as well
.

“I am happy you were able to stop by today," she greeted him politely.

"I'm happy too," he replied, as he rubbed his temple, then added, "I must say, the Chinese decor and the oriental outfits the servers are wearing are fabulous!"

"Why thank you," she cordially replied. "It's our annual International Cuisine Week.”

“Ahh, that sounds interesting,” he added.

“It is. Throughout the week we’re featuring a different cultural menu each day. As you can see today’s cuisine is Chinese. We go German tomorrow, I believe."

"Sounds like a splendid concept, to me!" he said, giving her another endearing smile.

"It's an annual event now," she returned, with a searching look.

"Without a doubt, this must be your most popular week," he said, sipping hot soup from his soupspoon, his voice low and smooth.

"Matter-of-fact, it is!" she qualified. "This is our third year sponsoring this event. The customers all seem to look forward to it."

"Well, I'm already looking forward to next year's event," Kurt said, smiling.

Filled with an urgent need to explore and discover each other's world, the two quietly conversed and dined in the cozy and dimly lit room as oriental music played softly in the background. Though Kurt did not know it she was about to give him the interview of his life, just as her girlfriend Juanita had suggested.

"So, are you married?" she finally found the courage to ask him.

Without hesitation, he answered, "Yes ...well, sort of."

"Sort of?" she echoed softly, curiously.
God, not another one of those my wife and I are not really getting along so we sleep in separate rooms and beds situations,
she pondered.

"Leslie and I are separated, Yvette."

"Legally, geographically or romantically speaking?" she quipped, studying his response. If she was going to interrogate him, she figured she’d do it right.

"All three," he said and almost to himself, sensing that she was not about to leave one stone unturned.

That’s a change she thought. "If it's none of my business, which it isn't, just let me know. I am just curious
...
what happened between you two?"

"What happened between us?" he echoed, pondering a response. "You can say we drifted apart over time. You see, she convinced herself that she needed a change in her life. It’s as simple as that. I would be lying if I said our breakup didn’t faze me but in all honesty, it brought me to tears. I’m trying my best to get over her, though."

"You know, that's quite an admission on your part," she empathized with admiring eyes.

"What is?"

"Well, most men are not in touch with their emotions. They rarely express their hurt and pain the way you just did."

Kurt shrugged, saying, "Hey, when I fight, I fight like a man. But when I cry, I cry just like a baby. Hell, you should see me at family funerals. No, I never felt less than a man because I shed a few tears. If it hurts, it hurts! That’s the way I see it."

"And I admire that in you, in any man."

"Hey, sometimes a good cry is good for you."

Yvette gave him a supportive smile, then bravely asked, "Did you ever, you know
...
go out on her?" It was a question she wished she had not asked him now. After all, this was only their second face-to-face conversation and already she was asking him about matters of a private nature. But it was too late to take the question back.