Victoria The Billionaires Maid

Forty



He smiled gently and said, “Basically we just order for two and they bring the food out in courses. It’s a lot of food so if there’s something you don’t like, you’ll likely be able to find something in the next course.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” He smiled. It was an affectionate smile and I didn’t feel like he was judging me at all for not knowing what a “tasting menu” was. It was one of the things I’d loved about him back when I was just his employee as well; he never seemed to judge people based on their background or social status.

Alex wasn’t kidding when he said there was a lot of food. For most of it, I had to ask Alex what it was, but he patiently told me what each thing was and after a while, I wasn’t even embarrassed to ask him.

For our first course, we were served sweet pea soup, sun-choke chips, and a whipped black truffle. There was also egg caviar which I’d never tasted and a soft poached egg with lemon-chive creme Fraiche and American olestra caviar.

There were turnips, young tatsoi, truffle-lime vinaigrette, and Maine diver scallops. There were leeks, cardoons, beech mushrooms, Buddha’s Hand, creme de brandade, seared foie gras, red butter lettuce salad radish, grilled scallion vinaigrette, wagyu beef tartare smoked tomato emulsion, capers, and puffed rice.

My personal favorite was the white asparagus “Cocotte” and the morel mushrooms with yellow wine sauce. The second course was as ridiculously long. It was all yummy, but it was so much food.

The whole time I worried about how much we were wasting and I thought about Cook and his soup kitchen. I wondered if people like Alex who had grown up with excesses realized how much food was wasted at a place like this daily, and how many hungry people were in the city.

I didn’t mention it to him now. It wasn’t the time or the place, but it was something to think about for the future. I am so lucky and so is my son… I’d love to be able to give back the way that Cook does.

We ate until I was so full that I thought I would have to be rolled away and while we ate, we talked about anything and everything. Alex asked me if I could go anywhere in the world, and where would I like to go. I didn’t have to think about it, I said, “Ireland.”

“Really? Why Ireland?”

“When I was about twelve I read a book about Ireland and a little girl who lived in a castle. I used to pretend I was that little girl and instead of Glendale with my pole dance mother, we lived in Ireland and my mother was the lady of the castle and I was the princess.”

I suddenly realized that was the first time I’d ever told anyone about that. I felt my face go hot and Alex reached over under the table and rested his hand on my leg.

“Why are you blushing?”

“I was babbling about a fantasy I had when I was twelve. It was kind of embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything. I thought it was cute. I would love to take you to Ireland. We can even stay in a castle if you’d like to.”

“Really?”

He laughed. “Really.”

“Can Michael come too?”

“Michael always gets an invitation.”

We finished our huge meal and then Alex tried to talk me into dessert. I quite literally could not eat another bite. When we stepped outside, my breath was taken away by the sky.

The moonlight was like a diffuse ocean above us. The colors of it lessened the inky blackness of the night, but it was still subdued enough not to dull the magnificent stars that glittered across the dark expanse.

“Oh, Alex! Look at it. It’s incredible!”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He wasn’t looking at the sky, he was looking at me. “You’re incredible. I see things so differently when I’m with you. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve even looked at the sky other than to check the weather?”

“I don’t, but it’s sad. I’m amazed by the sky… it’s just an endless palate of glorious colors.”

He cut my words off with his lips. After another breathtaking kiss, he said, “I’m amazed by you.”


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.