Page 21 of Unconditionally With Me
“Okay. You got me. I’m ready to be wowed.”
We pull up to Queen Anne Avenue when I notice our driver staring longingly at the door. I burst out laughing. “What’s your name?” I ask.
“Jesse, ma’am.”
“What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” I ask suddenly.
“If they have it, the mushroom gnocchi.”
I wink at Julian. “Thanks for the recommendation. Will you be our driver to pick us up?”
He hands us a card. “If you call this number about thirty minutes before you’re ready, I should be.”
Julian slips the card in his jacket pocket before nudging me. I glance behind us and see the line of cars behind us. Unlike New York, no one has honked us, but I get his point. We need to go. “Thanks, Jesse.” I slide out of the SUV, Julian hot on my heels.
The turquoise front door beckons to us. After Julian holds it open, I step inside a secret wish I never knew to make. The restaurant is lit with candlelight, a thousand or more candles haphazardly placed on terraced shelves around the room, on candelabras, on the tables. I twirl around to absorb the feeling that somehow I stepped inside a time warp when Julian’s arms circle around me. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper reverently.
“I know.” But since he’s not looking anywhere but at me, tears well in my eyes.
“I don’t know what I did in this life to deserve you.”
“You exist, Elle.”
Our lips touch for just a moment before he takes my hand and says to the curvaceous knockout at the hostess stand, “Rice, party of two.”
Her brow furrows. Her head of black hair cascades to the side as she studies Julian. But not with interest. I’m amused to note it’s with mild amusement and a touch of worry. I decide to put her at ease. “Don’t worry. They’re twins.”
Julian glares at me. The woman visibly relaxes before sending me an appreciative smile. Grabbing two menus, she leads us to a prime booth in the corner. “WhenCity Lightscalled to ask us if we had any reservations for tonight, we weren’t sure if it was your brother coming—again. Not that we had a problem anytime he’s chosen to visit us.”
I slide in, Julian right next to me. “But let me guess, it puts your staff on edge?”
A husky laugh accompanies her nod. “Like you wouldn’t believe. They argue about where the parsley flakes should land.” Her eyes stray to Julian, whose arm is resting comfortably on the back of the booth. “Somehow I doubt this Mr. Rice is the same.”
“If he doesn’t have to cook it, he’s happy.” I pat Julian’s stomach.
He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “My brother said everything he’s ever had here is fabulous, but what would you recommend?”
“Oh, and we need to pick up a mushroom gnocchi for our driver if it’s on the menu?”
“It is.” Her face turns thoughtful. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Do you have Montepulciano?” I ask.
“By the glass, the carafe, or the bottle?”
“We’ll take a bottle.”
“Then let me ask if there’s anything you’re allergic to?”
We both shake our heads. Her smile kicks up a notch. “How about I ask the chef to prepare you a selection of small plates to show you why your brother keeps coming back to Toulouse Petit based on your drink selection?”
Julian quirks a brow at me, but I’m already nodding enthusiastically.
“Excellent. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She saunters away with a confidence that makes me wonder if she owns the place. If she does, well, damn. It’s one hell of a place to own. I twist my head around to take in the magic of the candles before I whisper in Julian’s ear, “Who do you think lights the candles?”
He flashes me a wicked grin before breathing against mine, “Elves. There’s a magic portal between here and the Big Easy. The magic witch whisks them in every night and banishes them before the first patrons arrive.”
I bury my head against his shoulder to control the volume of my laughter. I lift my head and find his face right there. I brush my nose against his. “Thank you. You knew I’d love this—something quaint and intimate.”
