How Didn't She Know? by PATRICE PAGE

Author:PATRICE PAGE [Page, Patrice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patrice Page
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Christian

I

reserved a table at a high-scale restaurant on the top floor of the Detroit Riverside Casino. The view was perfect; you could see the city and the Canadian bridge. The host escorted me to the table, and I patiently waited for Essence and her parents to arrive. The four-star menu was impressive, and I dressed formally for the occasion, wearing a tailored suit, burgundy suede jacket, and black slacks. Essence smiled hard as she walked in with her parents; she was breathtaking. She wore a black fitted dress that showed considerable cleavage but was still tasteful. Her multicolored statement necklace was an excellent choice; very elegant. Her father wore a gray suit, and her mother wore a silver gown; her parents often matched out in public. I leaned down, and Essence threw her arms around my neck. “You smell good,” she kissed my ear, instantly turning me on.

“Thank you, baby,” I slid a chair out from beneath the table, “You look magnificent as always.” I walked over to her mother, kissed her cheek, and shook Mr. Donaldson’s hand. “I’m glad you can join Essence and me for dinner.”

“What’s the special occasion?” Essence eyed the chandeliers throughout the restaurant.

“I’m glad you asked,” I said as I looked over to Mr. Donaldson, giving him the queue.

He cleared his throat, “The firm likes the job Christian has been doing, and we have decided to hire him full term,” Mr. Donaldson gripped my hand.

Essence gasped; she leaned over and pressed her lips against mine, “I am so proud of you,” she looked into my eyes and leaned back in her chair.

The waiter returned with a tray of champagne, a pecan-crusted red snapper for Mrs. Donaldson, lobster bisque for Essence, Chef’s chicken for me, and a ribeye for Mr. Donaldson. We finished dinner, and the waiter served crème brulee for dessert. Essence looked around the table, “So they forgot all about my dessert?” she chuckled.

“Baby, just chill; yours is coming,” I pointed at the server who carried the silver-domed, gourmet tray with her dessert.

“Talk about the presentation, all of this for a molted chocolate cake?” She smiled and danced in her seat.

The waiter lifted the lid, and on the plate revealed the words, ‘Will you marry me?’ drizzled in chocolate sauce surrounding a red box; I got on one knee and held her hand, “Essence, you’re all my heart wants. You make loving me look easy. God out did Himself when he created you; He knew exactly what I needed,” I opened the red Cartier box, displayed the 2.5-carat princess cut diamond, and placed the ring on her finger, “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Essence fanned her face; tears dripped out the corner of her eyes. Finally, she nodded and stood up, “Yes,” she threw her arms around me.

Her mom smiled widely, “Let me see it, baby,” she held her hand, gazing at the ring she helped pick out. A few weeks back, I asked the Donaldsons’ permission to marry Essence.

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