by J. P. Comeau
“I mean…that’s fine, I guess,” I managed finally. “It must be a pretty nice waterfall.”
“It is. I’m glad you’re okay with it.” Riker kept on chatting like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and flying in a helicopter couldn’t be an entire date by itself. I managed to go back to talking and not look too flustered when we pulled into the executive airport parking lot next to a helipad.
The ride was fairly short, but absolutely incredible. I had thought I was used to the views in the Hamptons, and I was, from the ground. Up above, everything looked so much smaller, but not like it would from the tiny windows of an airplane. Houses, cars, people, trees, establishments and animals zipped by below, but not so far away that I couldn’t make out fascinating details.
I even got to look down at the ocean as we flew from the Hamptons to the mainland. Movies made helicopters seem quieter than this, but I didn’t mind the noise. I wouldn’t have talked even if I could’ve heard perfectly well. I wanted to see and admire, taking mental notes for my poetry.
Then, we turned west and the helicopter headed for hilly terrain, leaving the houses behind. Finally, it descended toward a grassy clearing near the top of a large hill. The pilot waved as we stepped off onto the grass, and the sound of the whirring blades disappeared into the beautiful morning.
“Okay,” Riker said after a moment. “The trail is that way.” He pointed at a rugged signpost with faded lettering. “But hey, first-”
Enraptured by the sounds of the woods, I turned toward him quizzically, ready to ask what we needed to do before setting off on our hike. Then, I forgot all about the woods and waterfall when Riker pulled me into a kiss, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I wanted to do that all morning,” Riker whispered, his breath a feather-soft puff against my cheek. “But we’d better get moving. We can’t get you back late.”
Yes, hiking. That is what we’re here for. Nature. Like, wilderness nature… I licked my lips and followed him.
Once we started, we made good time. Reaching the waterfall before noon, we sat down to eat the lunch I had packed, scarfing down sandwiches and fruit. As we ate, I admired the waterfall Riker had been so dead set upon showing me. It was lovely, I gave it that. Tall but not so tall that the cascading water drowned out our conversation, and it was a perfect, romantic backdrop for a pleasant lunch.
Still, I found myself eyeing the waterfall and wondering if it was worth a helicopter ride. I didn’t think so – not if I was paying for it, but then again; I didn’t have billions of dollars to spend on a whim.
“This is the perfect place to write poetry,” I said wistfully, then realized I had never mentioned this particular hobby of mine to him. “That’s one of the few hobbies I was able to hold onto when I had Bree. It’s easy to just pull out a notebook and start rhyming words, you know?”
I was joking, of course. Poetry wasn’t that easy to write, and there was such a thing as poorly written poems. Although, much of them were subjective and spoke to each reader differently. It was just a comment about something that interested me, and the reaction I got from Riker was surprising. He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “You write poetry?”
“Yep,” I confirmed, worried now. Did Riker hate poetry or something?
“I, uh…I do too. Sometimes.”
Riker, Mr. big, bad, jacked security billionaire who yelled at women and their dogs, writing poetry? “Really.” I didn’t intend the word to come out as such a disbelieving statement, but it did. The look on his face made me hasten to backtrack. “I mean, that’s really, very cool, I just didn’t expect it! Can I read one of your poems? Or maybe you could recite it to me,” I suggested excitedly.
“No.” Riker shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk. It was actually adorable.
“Please?” This time, we were here together, and I could use all my feminine charms.
“No.”
I decided to give up for now and changed the subject, but I definitely wasn’t going to forget this. What were the chances I would ever run into a guy I liked who wrote poetry? Curiosity would eat me up until Riker let me read some of his work.
After lunch came the difficult part of our hike. We had started almost at the top of the mountain, which meant most of the hike was downhill from here – literally. I may not have been hiking in a while, but I still remembered that downhill hikes could be as difficult as uphill ones. The probability of rolling an ankle or slipping was greater.
Despite my vague fear about what I would do as a single mother if I broke an ankle way out here, we made it to the bottom of the small mountain without incident. It had only taken us about four hours, including a couple of short breaks.
I sat down to slip off my hiking boots as Riker called the pilot to come to get us, then he sat down with me. “Good job,” he said, giving me a high five. “That was fun.”
“So fun,” I agreed, and despite the blisters forming on my heels and the discomfort in the soles of my feet, it was true. “We should do it again sometime.”
“Definitely,” Riker agreed, and we chatted until the helicopter roared into sight.
I stared down at my boots, thinking about the effort it would require to jump down off this rock and put them on, so I could walk over to our ride.
The world spun, and I shrieked, feet reaching futilely toward the ground.
Riker reached down, somehow managed to scoop up my boots while holding me securely in his arms, and started toward the helicopter. “I can walk,” I protested, my face reddening as the pilot grinned.
“I know.” Riker’s grin matched my own. Then he set me down inside the…plane? Could you call a helicopter an airplane?
I shook my head. I was already here, so there wasn’t much point in saying anything about it now. Besides…I had enjoyed Riker’s surprise.
One short flight later, Riker’s Mercedes came into view. The helicopter landed, we transferred our things to the car and started back to my house.
For the fourth time, we parted at my door, except, this time it was my car door because I had to run and get Bree before Payton had to leave. Otherwise… well, I might have invited Riker to follow me in. I felt like I knew him pretty well now, and we were ready to take things to the next level. But he and I both knew I had a responsibility to my child… the adult activities we were both considering would have to wait for our next date.
That didn’t matter, though. I had a decent idea of who Riker was now. It might come back to bite me, but…I was beginning to trust him, maybe even with formally meeting Bree.
I watched his car disappear around the corner, one hand on the door of my own vehicle. Only time would tell, and I didn’t need to be hasty. There was always next weekend.
Chapter Nine
Riker
“You’re a genius,” I whispered, giving myself a quick pat on the shoulder while sitting at my desk in the Sunset Security headquarters in Manhattan. “An absolute genius.”
Today was Thursday, the last day I would spend in Manhattan before flying back to the Hamptons – back to Elena. Another weekend meant another date, and it was my turn to come up with something for us to do.
Surprisingly, I actually found myself struggling to keep up with Elena’s creativity. I was impressed by her wide range of tastes and interests. She liked to do several things I had never tried despite having a fortune at my disposal. What she hadn’t yet done, she was always a good sport and ready to try something new. When it was Elena’s turn to plan our date, she chose activities like going to the outdoor art fair, or to a movie. Her choices were never extravagant or pricey, but they catered to both of our interests.
Nothing would be simple about our date on Saturday. Just moments ago, I had been sitting with my heels propped up on the desk, idly staring at my phone with both the hope and fear that it would light up with a message from Elena. I always wanted to talk, but I hadn’t been able to come up with the perfect date
for this weekend yet. And I didn’t want her to call and ask what I was planning.
After a few moments of wracking my brain, the perfect idea popped up. A few months ago at the Hamptons’ Peak, some guy I had annihilated during a game of pool told me about a unique restaurant he and his wife had visited to celebrate their anniversary. It had sounded intriguing and sexy as hell. Since I didn’t have someone to go with, though, the idea had slipped my mind - until now.
I couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on Elena’s face.
Preferring not to spoil the surprise by accident while my attention was split between work and texting Elena, I waited until the next day shortly after my private jet landed in the Hamptons to call her. “Hey,” I said when she picked up, already feeling more relaxed knowing I was much closer to her than I had been all week. “It’s my turn to plan the date this weekend, right?”
“Right,” she confirmed what I already knew. “I can leave Bree with Payton Saturday afternoon and pick her up Sunday morning.”
“Great, because I’ve already made reservations for dinner Saturday evening,” I admitted.
“Why am I not surprised? That’s fine, luckily for you and your reservation. Which restaurant?”
“Actually, I want it to be a surprise. But I will tell you that it’s gourmet and in New York City, so we’ll be taking my jet.”
“That’s a lot of trouble to go to just for dinner,” Elena said suspiciously. “What makes this restaurant different from one of the gourmet places in the Hamptons?”
She had a point. The Hamptons had several exclusive, restaurants on every corner, and I rarely visited them because I tended to go to the club during my weekends at the mansion. “It’s just different,” I told her, unwilling to ruin the surprise just yet. “Trust me. I have a reason. It has to be this restaurant. There isn’t one like it around here.”
Elena finally gave in. “Okay, if you say so. I guess I’ll just find out when I see it. And besides, you have me intrigued.”
“It’ll be worth the trip, I promise.” I was pleased she decided not to push for more answers. If she had begged me to tell her, I eventually would give in. Saying no to Elena was not only impossible but pointless. She only asked for things that were easy to provide, and she didn’t value everything by its price tag, like so many other women I had dated – Hallie being the most recent and glaring example.
Hallie. When had I last thought about her? Not since Elena had asked about the ring. It wasn’t like I had forgotten that chapter of my life – I could never do that. My relationship with Hallie was a part of my past. I had learned from it, but Elena made it so easy not to dwell on my ex. Every second of the present that I spent with her felt incredible and left no room for pain caused by old injuries to the heart.
I just didn’t need Hallie anymore. Nights alone didn’t bother me, because I knew I would get to see Elena again soon. If I wanted to text someone to chat or to talk about something that bothered me, I had Elena. Hallie’s absence had left a hole in my life and heart, but Elena had easily found a place in the first and was quickly filling the second hole as well.
Thinking about Elena made me miss her. So, of course, the next morning I woke up with a burning urge to see her. Not wanting to be too pushy and knowing she was busy, I amused myself by cooking breakfast, then heading out on a couple of errands. The day dragged on, especially when I remembered a conference call I had scheduled. Finally, I was off to Elena’s to pick her up and drive us to the airport to start our evening.
She was waiting for me in front of her door, wearing a flawless white evening dress that fell just short of the sandy ground. Despite the weekends I had spent with Elena, I never grew accustomed to how well she dressed for the occasion, and it always hit me right in the chest when she looked even more beautiful than I was expecting.
I told her so. And even though I complimented Elena every single time I laid eyes on her, she still blushed.
“You sure are trying hard to keep this dinner a surprise,” she commented when we reached the airport.
“Well, honestly, the concept sounds a little strange. In this case, a picture is worth a thousand words.” I said with a wry grin.
“So conniving.” She gave me a light slap on the shoulder before allowing me to help her up the steps.
The flight went by in no time, and we arrived in Manhattan, landing at the same private airport I always used during the workweek. Elena rolled her eyes over the limo that awaited us, but she stepped inside with no comment.
The limo let us out on the sidewalk in front of our destination. “Four Senses,” Elena read out loud, eyeing the sign above the double doors. “Are you sure this place is open? It looks pretty dark.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s open. We have a reservation.” This was far enough to take the secret and time to end the suspense. “We’re going on a blind date…literally.”
“Like a blind couple’s date or something? Or a…” The dark windows helped Elena understand what I meant. “Oh, it’s dark inside?”
“Pitch black,” I confirmed. “You eat in the dark. It helps amplify the flavors of food.”
“What food?” Elena laughed, looking intrigued by the idea. “We won’t be able to even see what- ”
“They only tell you if you ask. It’s a three-course meal, and the chef chooses it each day… we don’t order from a menu or anything like that. I’ve never done this before either, only heard about it.” I took a step forward to stand in front of the doors. “Are you ready?”
Elena took my hand. “Of course. This sounds incredible! I’ve never heard of a place like this.”
“I guy at the club recommended it to me a while back… Shall we?” I opened the door, and we stepped through into a spacious corridor with dimly-lit lanterns casting long shadows on the wall. Another set of doors stood at the far end.
“Good evening.” The woman behind the counter stepped forward to welcome us. “May I ask your names?”
“Jason Rutherford Riker III and Elena Vaughn.” Elena chuckled, and I realized she had never heard me speak my full name. “I know it’s a mouthful. I didn’t choose it,” I protested jokingly.
The woman eyes widened as she checked the reservation list. “Oh, Mr. Riker, welcome to Four Senses. I don’t remember seeing you here before? And Ms. Vaughn, welcome. Have you ever visited a dark restaurant?”
“No,” we said in unison, gripping each other’s hands.
“You’ll have a wonderful time,” she promised. “A waiter is just inside the door, ready to show you to your table. Now, will one of you place a hand on the other’s shoulder?”
“Will this work?” I held up our hands with fingers interlaced.
“Absolutely. Then, I’ll ask one of you to put your hand on the waiter’s shoulder. He will tell you his name and guide you to your table. You can call out to him at any time if you have questions or need something. If you ask, he’ll explain what each course is. But, we encourage you to try to guess by the delicious aroma.” She waved her hand toward the corridor. “That’s the whole idea behind the Four Senses.”
“Alright.” I glanced at Elena, when she squeezed my hand, her white dress catching the lantern light. “I think we’re ready.”
“Perfect. Just place your phones, watches and anything else that gives off light into one of the lockers, and I’ll let the waiter know that we’re ready.”
Phoneless and watchless, we stood near the door as directed. The lanterns dimmed further, then faded entirely.
“Welcome to Four Senses. I’m Anthony, your waiter. May I take you to your seat?”
“Please.” I held out my palm and touched a gloved hand. Then Anthony placed it on his shoulder.
The hinges of the doors made no sound, but I could feel the gentle swoosh of air as they opened before us. It was, hands down, the most unusual feeling I had ever experienced. If I hadn’t known better, at first, it seemed like we were on a carnival ride inside a haunted house. But instead of hearing gh
oulish laughter or screams, I heard soft conversations, silverware clinking against fine china, and shifting chairs. The redolence of delicious food swirled around us as plush carpet cushioned my polished shoes. The Four Senses certainly had all the trademarks of Manhatten’s finest dining establishments.
But I couldn’t see any of it. Truly, we had to depend on our sense of touch, smell, hearing and finally our sense of taste to complete our unique dining experience.
Anthony seated us and filled our water and wine glasses before leaving the table. The voices around us spoke in hushed tones, and subconsciously, Elena and I did the same.
By mutual consent, we didn’t ask the waiter about the aromatic food we were served a short while later. My varied experience with gourmet foods gave me an edge over Elena, though, when it came to speculating what the complex flavors at the end of our forks might be. I had to admit, even I wasn’t entirely sure what the main dish was called, or even what kind of animal had supplied the meat. All I knew for sure was that the food was delicious. And by the sound of Elena’s voice and the occasional feel of her warm hand on mine, I hoped I could give myself a pat on the back at the end of the evening for another enjoyable surprise date.
Partway through the meal, another thought struck me as Elena’s voice floated across the table, telling me a story about her work. I had known all along that Elena was beautiful, but I had never realized how much her voice and the little sounds she made contributed to that beauty. Laughter showed amusement and pleasure, but so did tiny huffs of breath and soft tones from the back of her throat. Normally, her smile captivated me and masked those small sounds, but the darkness made them as clear as the day made her smile.
When we finished, we joined hands so Anthony could show us out. We paused for a moment at the door to the entryway, stepped from one complete dark space into another, then looked around, blinking, as the lanterns slowly came to life.
