Lauren Two

Lauren

Two

Promptly at seven I rang the button for her apartment. I had told her dress was semi-casual, so I was in a sport coat and slacks. I had showered and shaved (twice) as soon as I got home and paced for a good hour until it was time to leave.

I was nervous, and didn't understand why. This was just a dinner date. Nothing more. With a woman I barely knew.

And wanted to know so much better.

"Well, how do I look?"

I had been staring up the street, my back to the gate. I turned, and went speechless.

She wore a light green dress that just highlighted her light tan and honey blonde hair.

She wore makeup (of course) but not too much - just enough to hint at added color.

She spun slowly, looking over her shoulder with her back to me. "Will this do for where we're going? I can change."

I finally found my voice - although it was almost a whisper; "Lauren, you remember that woman that caused our accident?" She nodded. "She couldn't hold a candle to you."

She slipped an arm through mine; "John Teasdale, you do have a way with words."

I led her to the car, held the door so she could slide in. Her dress crept more than half way up her thighs.

Can I just say here that as an adult, red blooded male, I have seen, admired, felt, and loved some beautiful thighs.

Lauren's are world class.

I helped her with her belt, zipped around and got in, fired off the big six. The Cat purred.

"This is a beautiful car. What is it?"

"This was my dad's first new car. A '77 Jaguar XJ 6 Coupe. It's all original except the wheels. Dad wanted wires. Not fakes or five bolts, these are knock ons. The car has never been hit and like I said everything is original. Except the clock. It died a few years ago."

We cruised for half an hour up the coast and turned in to the valet in a fairly full restaurant parking area.

Mario already had the passenger door open and had offered a hand to Lauren by the time I came around. Of course the dress slid up again.

Mario was cool, this wasn't the first time he'd been flashed.

As I took Lauren's hand he gave me a silent chef's kiss.

The chef's wife, Luccia, greeted us; "Mr. Teasdale, it's been awhile. Your table is this way."

"You're known here?"

"My father would bring us here several times a month. My mother's people were also from Calabria. The current owner, and chef, Antonio, is the son of the first. This is a family business. His wife greeted us. The valet is their youngest son Mario, and the daughter Angelica is in the kitchen, assisting her dad."

I was surprised when the waiter was a blonde kid, maybe college age.

"Don't tell me you're a Zoccoli."

"No sir. My name is Richard. I'm working here for the summer. Mario got me the job. Mrs. Zoccoli said I have to give you special attention."

"I've known Luccia for a long time. If she says jump, you just ask if this was high enough."

"She's been nothing but fair with me. Almost like a mother."

"Richard, we're having the parmigiano, a small salad, and a Ciro wine. in the meantime how about anti-pasto."

"Yes sir. And dessert?"

"Coffee with tartuto."

"You did all that without a menu? What if I didn't want any of that?"

"Lauren, like I said, I've been coming here for years. Now, we could have gone through the menu, you'd have asked about this or that and settled on something. It would have been good, but Chef Antonio's parmigiana is his signature piece. They are Calabrese, from the very south of Italy - well his parents were. His cooking is from there. Try it, if you don't like it we can order anything else. Luccia and Angelica will keep him in he kitchen."

"Why?"

"He gets a little testy when some body doesn't appreciate his food. I saw him run a big guy and his wife out with a knife because they complained about something. That was a couple years ago. The whole house cheered."

We nibbled on the anti-pasto and bread and sipped our wine as she told me about her day at work; a paralegal is lots of paperwork and interviewing clients and not a lot of moving around. So she commented on exercising after work to relieve the stress.

I told her about my current client - a coffee roasting company that couldn't seem to turn a profit. I discovered inventory control so sloppy one of the employees was side lining hundreds of pounds of fresh beans every month.

That's when Richard delivered dinner. He came back with a cheese bowl and more breads, checked our wine bottle and asked if I wanted another. I declined, I was driving.

Lauren took a small sample, paused, then took another. "My god this is delicious!"

Antonio was watching from the kitchen pass thru. My thumbs up was returned with a huge smile and a wave.

I'll give her this; Lauren may be a lady, but with Tony's parmigiana she ate like a longshoreman. And when she finally wiped her lips for the last time she looked down at the plate then back up at me; "My god, did I just do that? You must think I have no manners."

"Not at all, I'm just a couple bites behind you."

"Yes but ..."

"No. This was your first taste and you enjoyed it. Now wait for dessert."

Tony brought our desserts personally. "Richard showed me your plates. John, I know how well you eat, but miss, you make me proud that you enjoyed my humble effort."

"Chef, I have been in some of the best restaurants in the United States, Canada, and Europe ... none of them can top what I just had, no ... what I just enjoyed."

"John, you must keep this lovely lady."

I'm certain the dessert - gelato wrapped around a chocolate center and coated with bitter chocolate completed Lauren's evening. No one dislikes a tartuto.

~~~

We cruised down to the boardwalk, strolling arm in arm. Not saying much, yet (I thought) enjoying being together.

Eventually I took Lauren home. Odd thing; at the beginning of the drive back her dress hem was well above her knees, showing her gorgeous legs, but by the time we arrived at her place the knees were covered, and her arms crossed. At her gate she turned and took my hand. "Thank you, I had a wonderful evening."

"No offer of coffee?"

"Not yet. I have a lot to process."

Well, this wasn't my first date that went nowhere. I guess we just didn't click.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay, call me if you want."

~~~~~