Ariana bent her head and whipped back her hair before checking herself out in the mirror one last time. She truly loved this dress, more so now than at the shop. Its ivory color, long sleeves, and cleavage-covering front were demure. And while the gold beading lent it a little glitz, it wasn’t enough to earn the title of “slinky and sexy”.
The neckline that dipped down to the small of her back and hemline that barely covered her derriere, though? Those did the trick, and whatever they left lacking would be taken care of by her favorite pair of Michael Kors shoes.
The Bordeaux booties with four-inch heels gave the dress that little extra pop. What she didn’t know about fancy clothes, she made up for with shoes.
What girl doesn't love shoes?
With a final grin at her reflection, she hurried out the door for her date.
A short time later, she paused in the doorway of the bar, having spotted Jon. He was checking his watch, probably thinking that she should be arriving at any minute. They had enough history for him to know that she was never late… ever.
With five minutes left to spare before the designated hour of six o’clock, she snuck quietly up behind him to hear the bartender ask, “Can I get you something to drink, Sir?”
Jon’s glanced briefly at the cocktail napkin that was set before him before ordering, “Yes, I’ll have a Jack and Coke and- ”
Her hand on his shoulder had him pausing mid-sentence, so she stepped up beside him to supply, “I’ll have the same, please and thank you.”
Jon turned in his seat, and the smile in his eyes was obvious, even before they slid down her body. By the time they came back up to meet hers, they’d were still smiling but had darkened several shades. He definitely liked the dress.
“Well, hello there, beautiful,” he drawled around the cocky smirk that she didn’t hesitate to return. A girl couldn’t feel pretty without being a little cocky.
“Hello yourself.”
He leaned in to place a friendly kiss on her cheek, whispering, “You look stunning.”
She climbed onto the stool he pulled out for her. “Thanks. You look pretty amazing too. Have you been waiting long?”
"About five minutes."
The bartender returned with their drinks and asked, “Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?”
“No. Not this evening," Jon replied.
“Okay. Let me know if I can get you anything else.” He tapped his hand on the ledge of the bar before walking away.
“So, if we are not eating here, where are we eating?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink.
“You’ll see.”.
She ran her tongue along her upper lip, briefly savoring the sweet, oaky taste of the Jack Daniels whiskey. There were other things on her mind besides cocktails, and she walked lazy fingers up the inside of his muscular thigh, stopping midway.
"Not even a little hint?"
“You get zilch.”
“Fine. I can wait,” she dismissed breezily and withdrew her hand.
There was more than one way to skin a cat.
Ari crossed one leg over the other in a calculated move that shifted the dress higher up her tanned legs. It was already a short dress, and with it now bordering on indecency, Jon drained his glass and threw a couple of twenties on the bar.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” she returned with a sweet smile and put her hem back where it belonged. “Lead the way.”
Jon’s hand found the small of her back as he navigated them through the bar and lobby, and the tip of his thumb brushed bare skin where her dress dipped. His touch created more of a shiver than the evening air when they stepped out of the hotel.
The shiver was multiplied by the sleek, silver Bentley whose driver waited by the curb. If she’d had any doubts as to who the distinguished man was waiting for, they were erased when his snowy head bobbed in acknowledgement. That didn’t stop her from glancing over at Jon, who gave her a faint smile as the Bentley’s rear door was swept open to welcome them.
“Where to this evening, Sir?”
“Please call me Jon, and The Old Port,” he replied while shielding Ariana, who entered the car bottom first. After swinging her legs in, she scooted across the seat and tugged the hem of her dress down into the neighborhood of proper.
“Very well.”
The door closed, and in the seconds of solitude before their driver slid behind the wheel, she glanced at him. “All this for the Port? What are you up to?”
He covered her hand with his, interlocking their fingers, and she was convinced his smug purr was smoother than the Bentley’s engine as it pulled into traffic. "You shall see.”
They were in the car a mere five minutes, heading south on Rue Saint-Jacques toward Rue Dollard. A left onto McGill, followed by another left and a right brought them to their destination. Ariana waited for the driver to open Jon’s door before making his way to her side to help her out of the car.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Silvestro,” he corrected kindly.
“Thank you, Silvestro,” she obliged with a smile.
Lightly touching her elbow, Jon requested, “Gimme a sec, Ari?”
Ariana nodded without hesitation, watching with casual interest as he walked Silvestro to the front of the vehicle. She couldn’t make out the quiet exchange of words, but clearly saw the envelope Jon passed over before they shook hands. The envelope disappeared into Silvestro’s pocket as he bid them a good evening.
“I thought we’d take a stroll along the river before we head to dinner. You think you're up to that with those shoes?”
Ariana lifted her foot slightly off the ground. "These old things? I can walk miles in these babies.”
She hooked her arm into his, and they joined the mixture of tourists and locals on the sidewalks. It seemed like everyone was in a leisurely hurry, as they all were on wheels. While strolling the promenade, they saw tourists learning to use a Segway, a group of people rollerblading, and even a family riding a quadricycle.
“How was your day with Cara? Did you have fun?”
“Oh my gosh, Jon. It was absolutely the best! I can’t thank you enough for arranging it. Not just the spa, but the dresses as well. You are… Well, just thank you.”
He shrugged off her praise with a simple, “You deserved it.”
“You deserved a day off, too, but I bet you didn’t take one. What did you do today?”
“Nothing much. Worked on some stuff for the tour. Talked to the kids for a while.”
“You had all day. Surely you did more than that.”
His mouth twitched at the corners, but he wouldn’t tell Ari anything more, no matter how much she prodded.
With the sun beginning to set and the Clock Tower off in the distance, Ariana finally gave up.
Instead of badgering him about his day, she told him how the city wanted to put an urban beach adjacent to the tower. It would feature sand, chairs, a boardwalk and bar. No swimming would be allowed in the river due to unsafe water, but it would have a misting station. Plans were still in the discussion phase, but she thought it would be a great idea.
As they got closer to the tower, Ari noticed there were gates blocking off a portion of the promenade. It was enough to deter mere mortals – she, in fact was about to turn back – but it didn’t faze Jon. Her date merely nodded at the security guard and kept walking.
Ari’s feet moved to keep up with him but she held her breath, fully expecting the guard to deny their entry. “Jon,” she beckoned in a low voice, tugging at his arm. “I don’t think we should be here.”
“Yes, we should.”
Full of confidence, he didn’t break stride. He also didn’t offer an explanation.
“Really? Because there’s no one here except us.”
Now he stopped.
When she didn’t, he guided Ari in front of him, sliding up behind her. Two heavy arms wound around her waist and the weight of his chin came to rest on her shoulder.
“Just watch.”
“What am I…” Ariana didn’t know what she was watching for, and had been about to ask, when a helicopter came into sight. The distinctive whoosh of its blades had been in the distance, she realized. A whooshing that grew louder as the ‘copter landed on the opposite side of the tower.
“What did you do?” she demanded.
“We’re going La Pinsonniere. This is the fastest way to get there.”
She twisted in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That is pretty far just for dinner, don’t you think?”
“We’re spending the night. I’ll have you back in time for the show tomorrow night.” His eyes rolled as he said that, knowing how excited she was about it. “So whaddya say? You ready?”
“Heck yeah. Let’s go!” She relaxed her arm, grabbed his hand, and headed in the direction of their ride.
Jon couldn’t hide his devilish smile as he watched her try to figure out how she was going to get in with that dress of hers.
“Are you going just sit there and laugh, or do you plan on helping?”
He was laughing while he did it, but Jon extended a hand to help her up. Once again, he positioned himself so that her short dress didn’t flash anyone that shouldn’t be flashed and waited for her to take the seat on the opposite side so he could follow.
The pilot introduced himself as Simon after they were buckled up and wearing headsets. He explained that it was a clear night to fly and their flight time would be just under ninety minutes.
They followed the Saint Lawrence River, flying over the Bonsecours Market and McGill University. When they reached Quebec City, Ariana could see Le Chateau Frontenac as well as Old Port Quebec. Soon the city lights seemed to fade as the orange hued sky took over.
“Jonny, is that it?” Ariana squealed as it came into view.
“Yes.”
Set on a bluff perched high above the St. Lawrence River, La Pinsonniere was truly a spectacular little getaway. Or so Ariana heard. She’d never been there personally.
In accordance with its size, it had all the amenities of a major hotel. What made it different – according to the travel magazines and sites – was that La Pinsonniere also offered the more personalized services of an intimate bed and breakfast. It was exactly the kind of place where the rich and famous would vacation, hence the reason she’d never visited.
Ari was among the working class who’d always wanted to see it, though. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day, courtesy of Jon. He’d gone above and beyond to make today different than all the days before. It was all she could do not to thank him yet again, but before she could, they were being greeted by a man in a chef’s coat.
Welcoming them warmly and chattering a mile a minute about the hotel, the chef ushered them through a luxurious back corridor. That one led to another, which led to a steep set of stairs that turned into another.
The steps seemed endless enough for Ari to joke under her breath, “I’m not going to Hell am I?”
“If you stick with me you are,” he murmured with a laugh. “But not tonight.”
“And here we are,” their guide offered chipperly, stepping aside and offering a sweeping hand. “The wine cellar.”
It wasn’t like any wine cellar Ari had ever seen. Imagined, either, since she didn’t exactly frequent wine cellars.
There was no dust, cobwebs or musty smell. Far from it, in fact. There was only a single table snugged in between pristine wine racks.
A single candlelit table, romantically set for two with flowers, crystal and fine china.
He had given her a lot of things through the years. Himself, mostly. There was intimacy, a close bond, a relationship that went beyond titles. There had even been gestures, but none so grand as this… Cinderella day.
He’d professed that things were going to be different, and Jon was going out of his way to prove it. They weren’t sequestered in a hotel room eating room service in their jeans. He’d arranged the most public and organized “date” they’d ever had.
With candles whose flames reflected a thousand times more brightly through the burn of tears.
Something uncorked within her, and the dam broke.
Jesus, how many tears can one person have?
“Ari... What’s wrong, baby? You don’t like it?”
Ariana looked up at him with wide eyes. She attempted to speak. Honestly, she did, but her throat just wouldn’t let the words pass.
All she could do was shake her head.
