Dark Love

Chapter Nine

Part Two

We are in Paris, the city of love. For a date, my first date. We got out of the private jet and got in the black Mercedes. I took out my phone and I was ready to fill up my storage memory. The views are breath taking.

While in the car, Luca was very silent. As for I, I couldn't stop thinking about the heated moment that happened during the flight. A forty minute drive - in silence.  "We are here," he said. The car stopped and we got out. Luce held my hand, and we walked together, side by side.

"You are going to love this café," he said.

"It's in Paris. I'll love it even if I don't," I replied - my eyes wondering around.

We got in the cute cafe, the coffee smell lingering in the air and the small of fresh baked pastries. The French people talking in french, some even wearing the beret (the cute french hat).

A waiter aproached us and lead us to our table, we took our sits. "Je serai votre serveur cette soirée," he said in french - and gave us the menu. I smiled at the waiter, not knowing a word he said.

I looked at the menu, I couldn't understand anything. It's all written in french. Luca was busy reading the menu while I busy trying to figure out what ST. HONORÉ and MILLE-FEUILLE is. "Have you decided?" he asked, his eyes still fixed at the menu.

"Uh ... ya," I replied. "The macarons." I have seen macarons on Instagram, and famous celebrity having them. I have never had one, hopefully they are good.

The waiter took our orders. "So you speak french?" I asked Luca.

"Yes I do and Spanish too," he said.

"That's really cool."

"I am glad you think so," He replied. "What languages do you speak?"

"English," I replied.

"Hah," he laughed sarcastically. "Well that's great!"

"Thank you for bringing me to Paris. Um this is actaully my first date,"

"I had no idea. I am honored to be your first..." he spoke in a husky tone and smiled. "After this we are going to see the Eiffel tower. It's a walking distance from here."

The waiter brought our food. I took a big bit on the macaron. I chewed slowly, as my taste buds were deciding whether it was good or not. I forced myself not to spit it out. I swolled it. Disgusting as it is. It tasted purely coconut and egg. I hate coconut.
"How is it?" he asked.

"Mmm it's so good," I said — faking it.

I watched Luca as he enjoyed his black coffee and ate his french pastry. It looked delicious. I sipped on my mocha latte as I gave the meansest look to the macarons. Luca pushes his plate, and gives me a fork. "I don't mind sharing," he said, and smirked. I guess he saw the dont- spit - it - out charade.

I took the fork and tried it. "Aaa this is soo good," I said. "What is this?" I asked while stuffing my mouth.

"Tart Tatin," he replied. I stopped eating the dessert, when I felt his eyes on me.

"Sorry," I said, and looked down staring at my napkin sitting on my laps. This is so embarrassing, I thought to myself.

"Hey," he said and leaned in closer. "The macarons aren't my favrioute either." I looked at him and smiled. We ended up sharing the Tart Tatin.