Always Yours (BWWM Interracial Romance Collection Book 8) by Sara Hooper

Author:Sara Hooper [Hooper, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Women's Fiction, Romance, Multicultural, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), Multicultural & Interracial
Amazon: B014GBRBHS
Published: 2015-08-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

When they arrived at the restaurant, Chelsea felt a flicker of concern that her dress—conservative and classic as it was—was not quite good enough, even with the pearls she was wearing with it. The exterior of the restaurant, Menton, blended into the lively street, a classic Boston brick façade with a brass placard emblazoned with the restaurant’s name. Through the windows, she saw obviously wealthy men and women seated at pristine white-clothed tables, with gleaming glasses glinting in the soft yellow-white light.

When Spencer led her through the door, Chelsea’s sense of inferiority deepened even as her pulse quickened at the rich, lush cooking aromas that greeted her. The waiting area would not have been out of place at Spencer’s home—Chelsea tried not to calculate how much the floral arrangements and furniture would have cost as they waited for the maître d’ to come and seat them. “My parents brought me here for my birthday a few years back,” Spencer said, glancing around the room. “I loved it then, and try to bring as many people as I can here.” Chelsea nodded, trying to suppress the rising sense that the staff would take one look at her and know that she didn’t belong.

“Ah, Mr. Reed, it’s a pleasure to have you again,” the maître d’ said, smiling at Chelsea and Spencer alike. “I have your usual table, and Barbara says she has something very special for you this evening on the tasting menu.”

Chelsea’s nerves began to relax as they walked through the dining room; no one gave her a second look, no one interrupted their meal to look at the nervous black woman in their midst. The quiet murmur of conversation around her was somehow soothing, and as she sat down, Chelsea decided that true wealth was being able to show up at a fine dining restaurant with a complete stranger and have no one bat a single eyelash.

“I told them we would do the tasting menu,” Spencer said, unfolding his napkin and settling it in his lap. “I thought that would be the best thing—since there are so many delicious things to choose from, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Chelsea chuckled. “Not to mention I wouldn’t know what half of them are,” she pointed out.

Spencer shrugged, leaning forward to give her a conspiratorial glance. “Most of the people here don’t know half of what’s on the menu, and two-thirds of them are here every week,” he whispered.

Chelsea fought back the urge to snicker. She made herself relax, and as course after course and plate after plate came to the table, each one paired with a few sips of wine, she found relaxing came more and more easily. Tastes exploded on her tongue: bright green vegetables, earthy roots, perfectly cooked meat and seafood that seemed to melt at the faintest pressure from her teeth. “I have a question to ask you,” Chelsea said, bringing a forkful of a crisp-shelled tart loaded with sweet and savory filling up to her lips.

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