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It was too astringent. Definitely not a match for a sweet tiramisu. I started to wonder - maybe I ordered it wrong? Maybe a waiter didn’t hear my order correctly due to broken French, or perhaps it was more common among customers to order bold wine on Saturday night?
Having a tiramisu on the first date as a dessert wasn’t weird, but it was not an obvious choice as a main dish. Though that really didn’t matter now, because my date was not even here.
I’ve checked a time thousand times. We both agreed on six o’clock at this place. Messing up the restaurant could be an option too - in Monte Carlo, there were plenty of them. However, I couldn’t do anything when my date didn’t even dare to text me back.
It’s been two hours.
I had no other choice than to try to enjoy my own company, observing the illuminated Hôtel de Paris visible from a terrace of the restaurant. Loud laughter, jazz music and the roar of sport-cars created a pleasant buzz which accompanied me as I reflected.
I didn’t know him anyway. It was a set-up meeting arranged by one of my friends. She insisted that I needed to start going out and meeting new people. Apparently, the first attempt was not so successful.
The waiter checked up on me a few times, figuring out I was probably ghosted. Every time I politely denied when he asked me if I want to order something more. I felt that mentioning the wine I was now drinking was irrelevant even though I knew it was very likely it was not the one that I had ordered. Nothing other than finishing and leaving seemed logical.
Trying to preserve the rest of my dignity, I smoothed out my satin red dress and tried to act graciously. I was about to stand up and leave when someone suddenly pop out in front of my table.
”Puis-je rejoindre?” the man’s voice asked in impeccable French.
My eyes look up at this mysterious person immediately while a slightly surprised look appeared on my face.
At first, I thought it might be my date, but too many conflicting facts appeared in my mind. He didn’t look British. He couldn’t be a pleasant and cultural gentleman, who moved from London two months ago to work here - in Monaco. The man that stood in front of me was dressed rather casually - something that the businessman I was waiting for couldn’t be able to do. He was wearing a simple, plain white t-shirt along with a black denim jacket and pants. Elegant but yet simple white trainers gave away that he wasn’t coming back from work, more possible could be training. Nevertheless, he had an interesting spark in his eyes of curiosity and slightly parted lips. He was waiting for my response, for permission. Accent, which was hearable in his question was flawless. Was it possible for a British man to talk French this good?
No, this man couldn’t be my date. He was local for sure.
”Pas de problème” I said after a while deciding that I have nothing to lose.
I noticed how fast the waiter approached us again, while the stranger took his seat. A few fast words of welcoming were given to my companion. The waiter looked… delighted? Was this man known for others, was he coming here often?
I observed how he asked only for wine. Fortunately noticing that I have already drunk a lot this night, he ordered a single glass. A few seconds later the waiter was not there anymore.
”Oh sorry, I’m such a bad gentleman. Didn’t introduce myself” a realization appeared on his face and was washed out with a slight smile ”I’m Charles” An “r” sound in his name resounded perfectly french.
”So you are definitely not my date” I said quietly now thinking too much about it.
”I beg your pardon?” his eyebrows frowned.
”Sorry” a soft laugh escaped me and I offered my name as well.
”You were waiting for someone?” his eyes had all focus on me.
”Yes, that is true” I said focusing my eyesight on the fabric of my dress ”I have been ghosted”
“I cannot believe” he laughed and it seemed so characteristic. Looking at his smile I had a feeling that it will be hard to forget. ”You are dressed so well and elegant, pretty woman”
I flush appeared on my cheeks. Compliments given by strangers should be disturbing, not pleasing. Somehow I couldn’t find any dishonesty in his words.
“Thank you” I passed him a grateful smile whereas his wine was just placed on the table.
While he took a sip of red liquid I asked him a question.
“What are you doing in Monaco?”
“Living” he shrugged confidently “I’m a monegasque”
“Never met a local before. There are a lot of people from all around the world” I admitted looking at him surprised.
“That is true. Sometimes you hear more english than french, but it still feels like home. Couldn’t imagine living somewhere else.
And you? What are doing here?” he asked with hearable curiosity.
“Looking for a husband”
A shock suddenly showed up on his face and I swear that this was the reaction I was hoping for. Loud laughter burst uncontrolled out of me as I watch his face return to a casual grin.
”Working. The real answer is working”
”You know some ladies do that, they look for a husband” he said taking up his glass ”but they are never so direct about it.
”Have you met one lady like that?”
”Maybe”
A longer silence dissolved around the table. I noticed it got pretty late - the sun was low at the horizon, wrapped in pinkish clouds.
”Tell me more about yourself” he said focusing on me.
”I am not living in Monaco for a long time. Just adjusting now to living here” I said staring at the sunset ”I do love French and their culture. Pissing off but funny at the most time!”
Oh he laughed, it was so heartwarming.
”You are kinda sporty people, here in Carlo. I hate running with my whole heart but I enjoy playing tennis. It’s so rewarding when you can compete in a healthy manner with others.”
”I agree” he still had a smile on his face
”Love to travel, cook stuff I learn from others. Try it. And oh, buying flowers. I am addicted to it.”
”And what is your favourite flower?”
I caught eye contact.
”Dahlias”
”Oh you have taste lady” Charles seemed so amused ”Noted that for future.”
Before I had time to think about what he just said another question was thrown at me.
”So are you up for some tennis game someday?” He said with a soft chuckle.
”If I don’t have better opponents, well with pleasure” I said looking at him and passing a smile.
I would lie that the conversation that I was having with newly met monegasque didn’t make me feel much better after the unsuccessful date. Talking with Charles seemed so natural and simple. I wanted to know more about him but he was the one who asked me more questions. The aura of mysteriousness around his persona was visible.
”I am sorry but it’s a bit late” I said after a while.
”No, it’s fine. I can give you a lift if you want” the man said with seriousness on his face.
”That is very nice of you but I don’t want to make any troub-”
”Don’t worry. Come on, I will grab your coat” He interrupted getting up leaving me no time to respond. He called out the waiter and asked for the bill.
”White, white blazer” I explained to him what he should ask for ”I will pay for myself”
”Nah, don’t be silly. I was the one who gatecrashed your date” he laughed ”You can wait for me at the parking”
A silent thank you left my lips. Slightly confused by the situation, I decided that the best solution was to leave the restaurant. I headed to the parking lot. It was already dark outside, the lights illuminated the neighbouring buildings and all of the city showing it in a captivating aura. I didn't have to wait long for Charles.
”Here you are. Your coat” the man said with a funny French accent passing me my blazer.
”Thank you again”
He took the keys out of his jacket and opened the car. Standing a few meters away, the grey Ferrari flashed its headlights.
”Oh” I said uncontrollably
”Yeah. She’s a beauty” he sighted and headed to it.
The car seemed extremely elegant and even more fast. The two stripes, white and red, divided his hood in half creating a plain and thick line. When I took my seat, amazement wasn't over - Ferrari's interior was sinfully comfortable, it created an impression of sitting in a soft, leather armchair.
Monegasque pressed a button turning the car on. A beautiful roar resounded.
”Nice car indeed”
”And… where I am taking you, lady, with it?” Charles said with full focus on driving out of parking.
I gave him my address information, he nodded and slowly headed to the streets.
The whole ride took place in pleasant silence. The man after some time tried to turn on some music in the background. Funny, those were slow Latina songs. Definitely not the type of music I could expect for his mysterious appearance. Minutes later, the Ferrari pulled up in front of my building and I realized that was the end of my unusually surprising but enjoyable evening.
”Thank you for actually asking me for a seat. I suppose my evening would be even more awful and I would get even drunker”
He laughed genuinely. His eyes captured mine, they had a spark of happiness.
”It was a pleasure. Hope we can repeat it soon”
A soft obviously left my mouth as I opened the door. I was already about to say goodbye when I suddenly realized something.
”Wait… How you will reach me?”
”Don’t worry, I have my ways” he answered calmly ”Have a great night my lady” Charles said before winking.
A blush crept up on my cheeks and seconds after he was already leaving.
I moved toward the entrance. Oh, keys. I have to find them. I started searching the pockets of my jacket, it seemed the only logical place to put my keys there. However, to my surprise, in addition to the characteristic cold metal, my hand sensed something coarse and light as well.
A paper.
I took it out to see what it could be. There was some text.
”Here is my phone number, if you still think about our future tennis match. À bientôt, Charles.”
”This moron” I laughed to myself ”He definitely knew what he was doing looking for my blazer”