| Subject: À la Vie! - Chapter 34 |
Author:
Diane
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Date Posted: Tuesday, November 02, 09:41:50pm
In reply to:
Diane
's message, "À la Vie!" on Tuesday, October 19, 01:16:54am
Nikita skillfully applied her make-up and went to work on her hair. She had rolled it on huge rollers, creating soft waves that cascaded down her shoulders and back. She pinned the sides back—nothing too fussy. Her dresser was now lined with hair care products courtesy of l'Éclat, but she eschewed both hairspray and spritz. If her hair stayed up, it stayed up. If it didn’t, it didn’t. After all, this was just Michael she was having dinner with. Her roommate and best friend.
Michael had chosen to get dressed at the hotel, and had his suit pressed there as well as having his shoes shined. He shaved closely, something he hated doing, and moussed back the recalcitrant curls. There. That would teach them. He was extremely nervous about their date tonight. After all, this was Nikita he was having dinner with. His soul mate and the love of his life.
* * *
Michael’s driver picked Nikita up at precisely 7:15. She was already seated at a table in the front window when Michael’s cab let him out at the front door. Nikita saw him before he saw her, and she drew a deep breath. God, he looked magnificent. How could she have ever though Alec Chandler was good looking when the most beautiful man in the world was standing twenty feet away, dressed in Gaultier, and looking for her.
The maitre‘d brought Michael to their table, and he drew in his breath. My God. She looked amazing. The dress was fantastic, that was true, but Nikita’s natural beauty radiated sunshine, filling the room and Michael’s heart with warmth. He sat down in the chair opposite her.
“Hi,” he said shyly.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
A long pause while they just looked at each other, like moths drawn to twin flames.
“You look—incredible,” Michael breathed, breaking the silence.
Nikita blushed. “You look pretty good, too,” she answered softly, staring at the table napkin in her lap.
The waiter broke the tension, and Michael looked at the wine list, then ordered something in French. The waiter smiled and backed away from the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “I should have asked you what you wanted instead of just taking charge.”
“It’s okay, Michael. I don’t drink,” responded Nikita.
Michael was mortified. “Oh my God. I was so nervous about our dinner tonight that I completely forgot. When the waiter comes back, I’ll order us two sodas, okay?”
“Water with lemon will be fine,” she answered. Michael was nervous? About what?
When it was time to order, Michael, still reeling from his earlier faux pas, let Nikita make the selections. She ordered two of her favorites, planning to share with Michael. He agreed, and some of the earlier tension dissipated.
They talked of trivial things during dinner. It seemed that neither of them was able to put on the table what they were really thinking about.
Finally, while they were finishing their spumoni, Michael spoke. “Nikita, are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” She jerked her head back in surprise. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve changed. Ever since I told you about your mother, you’ve been, I don’t know, indifferent toward me. Like you don’t love me anymore.” His eyes were sad.
“But I do love you,” Nikita responded without thinking. “I love you with all my heart.” She blushed, realizing what she had just revealed. She had really put Michael on the spot. “I know you love me, too” she went on quickly. “We’re best friends. We’ll always love each other, no matter what.”
She’s not in love with me. Michael was stunned. She thinks of me like a sister thinks of a brother. Michael felt the darkness closing in. He gave it one last shot. “But what about when you said you’d wait for me? Didn’t you mean it?” he persisted.
Nikita had the courtesy to look embarrassed. “I did when I said it. That was before I knew how you felt about me. I won’t hold you to it.”
Michael was genuinely confused. “How I felt about you? I’m in love with you, Nikita. I think I always have been. I wanted you to be my wife, and a mother for Adam. I thought you felt the same way.” He saw her dismayed look and realized he was wrong. He stood to leave. “I’m sorry, Nikita. I’ll move my things back to the hotel tonight.” He had taken three disconsolate steps when he heard Nikita call out.
“Michael, I’m in love with you!” Several patrons of the restaurant turned to look in her direction, but Nikita didn’t care. Michael had to know how she felt.
Michael stopped in his tracks. He came back to their table as though he were being pulled by invisible string. He looked at Nikita’s eyes, which were brimming with tears. “I knew that you loved me, but you never said you were in love with me. And that night that we were kissing. You stopped so suddenly, I thought that I disgusted you.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “At first I thought it was because I was ‘soiled goods,’ then I figured out you felt like you were kissing your sister.”
He took her hands in his and shook his head slowly. “Oh, Nikita. If only we’d said these things three days ago. We could’ve straightened this whole mess out. Look at me.” It took her a while to do so, but when she did, she saw love. True love. “I had to stop kissing you the other night. You were so amazing I was afraid I would lose control and ravage you on the couch.” She gasped, and Michael grinned. “It’s true. That’s all I thought about when I was in the spare bedroom. How much I wanted you and how I needed to force myself to go slowly so I wouldn’t frighten you.”
“R-Really?” asked Nikita with a shy smile.
“Really,” Michael confirmed.
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