Downshire Diary – (72) French Cuisine

Danny Popkin was not looking forward to another boring business dinner the latest in a long line of such wasted evenings and at 35 years of age he was really looking for something more in his social life, in fact he was actually looking for more in his life.
Certainly something more than just another fabulous restaurant for yet another expensive meal or as they say another “dining experience” at someone else’s expense.
He pulled up outside the latest restaurant, this time The Runcible Spoon in Purplemere, a place of great renown, but he still had a feeling of dread, despite the great venue, wonderful cuisine and the great ambience, it was just as he expected, more boring business talk, more boring company, basically more people who like him didn’t really want to be there.
But after the pre-dinner drinks, quelle surprise, out of the blue and quite unexpected, une jeune fille, and how pretty she was, la belle fille, Florence Clerembeax, the niece of the financial director from the Paris office, a petite well-tanned girl with huge brown eyes and long hair the colour of burnt caramel.
“Quelle jolie fillee” Jason thought
“Do you mind if she joins us?” her father asked
As if they would mind, a bunch of boring business men having dinner or a bunch of boring business men and a beautiful young woman having dinner.
No contest as far as Jason was concerned because he was instantly besotted by the beautiful young woman.
When the waiter came, the American next to him ordered a steak, well done
“And for you monsieur?” he asked Jason
“I’ll take her, any way she comes” he said in his head but when he looked across at Florence she was smiling as if she knew what impure thoughts filled his head about a girl 12 years younger than him.
“I’ll have the same” he said ordering something he didn’t really want, to cover his embarrassment over his impure thoughts about what he did want.
His thoughts extended to every aspect of her, and what she would look like as he peeled through the layers of silk, satin and lace.
He wanted her to tantalise all his senses, sight, sound, smell, touch and taste,
His sight had already been fed but he wanted more, her sound was sweet and her accent seductive, the smell of her perfumed scented skin was exotic and intoxicating, and touch which had been restricted to a hand shake and so he felt her electrifying touch on his skin but the taste was as yet unfulfilled.
But all through the meal knowing looks were exchanged and every time their eyes met he felt like a schoolboy again, and still he was convinced she could read his mind.
They laughed and joked and pretty much ignored the rest of the table, but all too soon the evening was over and everyone went their separate ways and Jason was deflated as he got into his taxi.
Until that is he reached his Hotel and sitting in reception of the Worsted Viper Hotel was a smiling Florence.
“How did you kno…” he began but she silenced him with her lips and he finally got the taste of her.