The Weekend (A City Romance Series Book 1)

by L. A. Ritz

  It wasn’t a question. It was a clearly stated command. And it made Bethany just a little too excited in more than one area of her body that is appropriate. She squeaked out, “Ok.”

  Bethany left her bag in his room. It did not take very long for her to collect her stuff down at the lobby. Finally, Feliciano directed her out the front door of the hotel and they were walking down the street to dinner. Bethany didn’t know what to say and so stupidly she said, “Feliciano, you know if you don’t really want to take me to dinner, you don’t have to. I am not some pity-charity case. I mean, I might seem like it, but it isn’t a big deal or anything.” She was rambling. She looked up at him with hope and a little bit of innocence, which made him laugh.

  “Phillip.”

  “What?” She asked.

  “Call me Phillip.” She couldn’t help but smile as he continued. “And I want to take you to dinner.”

  His answer was final and so this left her time to muse about this new discovery as he guided her through the city blocks. His name was Phillip. Like Prince Phillip of the Sleeping Beauty. Could her night get any better? She might just get her fairy tale, happy-cherry-popping- ending, after all.

  Chapter 6

  Pinot Noir

  They were seated at a highly sought out table in one of the most successful restaurants in Seattle. Feliciano, or Phillip, had just walked in and gave his name to the hostess. She brightened up and directed them to their table. When they sat down Bethany asked how he got a reservation here, and he said he made it earlier. So as she waited for the waiter to pour the water, she wondered who was supposed to be his plus one to this reservation. It wasn’t really her business, but maybe he had had a date and she soiled his plans or something. Maybe he had felt sorry for her. He just took her to dinner to make her feel better, but really he wanted to be with someone else.

  The waiter left after Phillip ordered a bottle of wine she didn’t pay attention to. Then the very good looking man across from her said, “I made a reservation for myself tonight, but I always request for a table. I hate sitting at the bar.”

  “Oh.” She smiled.

  He continued, “I could see that you were fretting over something. I just want to let you know that I wasn’t supposed to meet another woman.”

  She tilted her chin up. “I didn’t catch what wine you ordered?” She wanted to change the subject.

  He got that idea really fast. So with a smile he said, “A Pinot Noir.”

  “Of course.” She didn’t mean to say that.

  “What does that mean?” He sat up taller in his chair. “The only respectable American wine is from California. And that is their grape.”

  She knew this well. Wine was her family business. But she very well knew that California was not the best place to get wine from. Washington grows the best grapes now. “Yes, you can thank Paul Giamotti for that.”

  “Great movie.”

  “He gave Merlot a bad rep.”

  “Well, not everyone knows how to grow Merlot.”

  “Let me guess, you think it is French wine or no wine.”

  He laughed, “I just ordered a Californian Pinot Noir.”

  “Which is what you are supposed to order in California.” She replied very sassily with way too much sarcasm. “But we are in Washington. Several tasting rooms just down the highway. You are typical at best.”

  She could tell she was amusing him far too much. He said, “What are you twenty-one? Are you even old enough to know anything about wine?”

  She smirked. “I am twenty-two.”

  “Oh, ok. Twenty-two. I see you have loads of experience.” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, all man’s man-like.

  “I haven’t spent my legal years drinking two-buck chuck or White Zinfandel.”

  “In my experience,” he responded, “You drink that before you are twenty-one.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “Well, if you must know. Feliciano.” She was goading him. “I grew up on a vineyard. So, No. When I got drunk in my youth, I didn’t drink the cheap stuff.”

  He seemed really interested now. His teasing over, he asked, “You grew up on a vineyard?”

  She nodded, still annoyed, “Yes, my family owns a vineyard.”

  “Do they make wine?”

  “Of course they do, we aren’t going to grow grapes not to make wine.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her attitude.

  She took a deep breath. “Sorry. I just hate when people assume that being so young means you know nothing of the business.”

  “It is not that common.”

  She raised her head. “Well, I know some things about wine. And I can tell you that California is not the only wine region in America. And pinot noir is not the only worthy grape, no matter what Paul Giamotti has to say about it.”

  He laughed now. “You are right, there is also Chardonnay.”

  Her eyes widened, and unthinkingly she grabbed her napkin and tossed it at him. The waiter chose that moment to walk up to them and ask for their order. Still laughing Phillip replied, “We haven’t had a chance to look at the menu.”

  “Yes, sir. I will be back then in a few minutes.” The crisp waiter walked away.

  Bethany was still pursing her lips at the man across from her. He cleared his throat. “So what kind of grapes does your family mainly grow?”

  This made her startle some and with resignation she said, “Merlot.”

  Phillip was laughing again.

  It took till after the appetizers were served that Phillip quit teasing and laughing at her. Bethany was in heaven, and not because she was sitting across from a very desirable man, but because of the plates on the table. Marvelous food sat before her. She loved eating out and didn’t get a chance to often. She definitely didn’t get a chance to eat at a place like this. Fresh scallops with the strangest concoction of pears and capers sat before her. She kept eating off of Phillips plate too. He ordered a new wave style of carpaccio dressed with squid ink butter and fennel cubes. It was all very peculiar, yet all wonderfully paired. Phillip didn’t seem to mind that she ate off of his plate. In fact he started it when he took a bite of scallop straight off her fork. There was nothing sexier than him eating from her hands, well the fork in her hand.

  Throughout the main course of his lobster ravioli dish and her pork belly ragout, Phillip continued to ask her questions about the family vineyard. She answered everything with the knowledge that picking grapes since you were two let ensue. He was impressed, she knew this. With all of his questions she began to wonder if he was also in the wine business, so she asked. He shrugged and said, “I am more into real estate.” That was all he really said about himself. He knew how to keep her talking without getting too personal and so she let him keep the focus upon her. He seemed really interested and his line of questions kept her mind off of other things in her life.

  After the main courses were pulled, that is when the personal questions came. He started with, “Can I ask you two questions?”

  She didn’t think much of it and responded quickly, “Of course.”

  He met her eyes straight on, “Ok.” His throat cleared. “How come you were looking to lose your virginity last night? And how is it that a beautiful woman such as yourself is still a virgin?”

  Chapter 7

  Cherry Popping

  Bethany could not believe he just asked that. Yes, she revealed a lot about herself including her naked body to this man. Her little rant and crying moment also made her completely vulnerable, but wasn’t it enough? Wasn’t it enough that he knew she had embarrassed herself many ways last night and that he had witnessed the repercussions of it throughout the whole day? Her eyes must have been very wide, or maybe her mouth was still open catching flies, because he spoke again before she could think of something to say.

  “It is not a bad thing to still be a virgin.”

  The way he said it irked her. It was like he felt sorry for her or was babying her. She wasn’t a pity case and she
wasn’t a baby. So she shook her head quickly and intercepted before he could say another thing that would make her feel more awful. “I could not lose my virginity.” She didn’t even know what she was saying with that line.

  “You can’t?”

  “No.” Another quick shake of her head. “I couldn’t.”

  “But you can now?” He asked with just a slight smile upon his face.

  She quickly tried to think of some way to explain her situation without revealing too much. “I just wasn’t able to spend enough time with a boy that would allow me to have… sex.” She thought that was a good enough answer. “I mean there was one night.” And yet she rambled on, still trying to cover herself. “This boy, Johnny, everyone called him that even though his name was Bert. But anyways, we were out picking grapes. It was harvest. And we were all kissing and everything. But then his mother, who was our marketing lady for the vineyard caught us.” She just couldn’t stop. “And she began smacking her boy on the bare ass because his pants were already off.” She explained further. “I had wanted to see it first. Because I hadn’t seen one before. I was only fifteen.” She took a deep breath. “But anyways I didn’t get naked and we didn’t fuck.” She blushed deeply at her ending word choice and when she met his eyes again he was staring at her with a cool air and slightly charmed twinkling eyes. If he didn’t think her a ridiculous child, that moment should have closed the deal. That was it. Bethany was going to die a virgin. She was going to remain silent for the rest of dinner and go home a virgin. Maybe she will even skip dessert.

  Speaking of dessert the waiter chose that moment to come up and ask if they were interested. Phillip looked towards her waiting for her to say something. She was going to refuse, until he said, “We will have one of each.”

  The waiter walked away quickly with their order and Bethany said, “You didn’t have to order dessert.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “All the desserts?”

  “You said earlier that you were going to eat all the desserts off the menu. In fact you looked at the desserts before you even looked at the rest of the menu.”

  She spoke before she thought. “But that was before I just completely embarrassed myself in front of you. Yet, again.”

  He laughed lightly, “If it makes you feel any better, I like when you embarrass yourself.”

  She huffed out loudly, “Uh. You would.” She looked away from him.

  When he spoke again, he didn’t sound like he was teasing her. “I had a similar story when I was fifteen.”

  She met his eyes incredulously.

  “My grandfather lived in the middle of the city, Porto. I went to visit him every summer. Below his apartment was the butcher,” he paused, “And the butcher’s daughter.” Phillip sat up taller in his seat, “I started to help out in their shop. I got caught not only by my grandfather, but my grandmother. Her parents. And the priest who had come to bless the meat for city cathedral and their holy dinner.” He smiled when she smiled. “We were doing our… thing, right in the back room next to all the live chickens we were supposed to be slaughtering, and were supposed to be blessed in a few minutes.” He laughed. “We will just say that the chickens were no longer on the dinner menu that night at the church.”

  She was trying control her laughter. “That did not happen to you. You are lying.”

  “No. I am telling the truth. My grandmother made me go to confession three times a day, every day for almost a whole year after that.”

  She was laughing now. “Okay. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “So, sex when you are fifteen is supposed to be awkward.”

  “Awkward.” He called out. “I would say that was downright humiliating and sinful.” He had the biggest smile on his face that matched her really big smile.

  “Sinful is definitely the right word.”

  He kicked her foot under the table playfully. In which she kicked back.

  In a more serious tone, he continued, “I would not consider your one moment with sex…”

  “Almost sex.” She interrupted.

  “Almost sex,” he corrected. “…a moment of complete humiliation. We have all been there.”

  He was looking at her like he would like to have one of those moments with her, awkward or not. The whole night she had been thinking that maybe he was interested in sleeping with her and after this last conversation, she didn’t think he was scared off by her virginity. So with a little bravery and a little bashfulness she commented, “Perhaps my first time wouldn’t be so… awkward, if I was with someone who had some… um… experience.”

  It was quiet at the table for a moment. She knew he was processing her words as he studied her face. If only he would take the smirk off his face. She didn’t want to be a joke, nor did she want to be known as that fifteen year old girl in the vineyard to this insanely perfect man. She wanted him to make love to her like a woman.

  He was saved from responding when a tray of about eight different desserts arrived with their waiter and a helper. She was back to laughing as each dessert was arranged on their table. This time, when they were left on their own, there silence was not only from her brave words but also from the copious array of desserts on the table. Bethany was caught between deciding which dessert to start with or wanting to know if he was considering a night with her.

  “I think I will eat the cherry dessert first.” He dove into this red looking abstract thing. The bite was bigger than should have been and pieces of the cracked sugar fell from his lips to the table. She laughed at him, and reached across the table to wipe the crumbs from his chin. He grabbed her wrist and in the most cliché move ever, he licked the finger that the sugared crumbs sat upon. His tongue left a warm/cool effect upon her finger. Bumps formed over her skin and her nipples hardened quickly. Phillip was watching her with intensity the same time that her panties were becoming noticeably wet against her skin, and both acts were making her incredibly uncomfortable.

  She pulled her hand back. Then with practiced poise she straightened her shoulders and chipped out, “I think I will try a bite of each dessert before I eat one wholly.”

  “What if I want the dessert you chose?” He teased.

  “Then you will have to find some way to get it from me.”

  “Oh, I have my ways.”

  Bethany would offer him all the desserts if he would have his way with her. Instead she just watched as he tasted the whipped creamed strawberry, then the chocolate mousse, and the pistachio cake. If only she could be a prong on that fork.

  They ate the most of four desserts. The rest had just bites in them. Not every dessert was worthy of a plate clean. Phillip was quick to pay when the waiter dropped off the bill and she didn’t feel like she had to offer to pay. She didn’t have the money anyways, considering she had maxed her credit card last night on whiskey.

  He helped her out of her seat and guided her through the restaurant with a hand upon her back. She noticed every one of the diners looking up at her and she wondered what they thought of her. She was young and in jeans, and maybe a little too boney. He was mature, wearing a suit jacket, and one hundred percent perfect man. There wouldn’t be much to see in her, other than just a piece of ass. The joke was on them. He had more than one opportunity to get a piece of ass from her. He hasn’t made a move. This was confirmed when they stepped through to the sitting room.

  “Let me escort you wherever you need to go.”

  She fiddled with her purse strap. He was offering to take her home. Without trying to sound disappointed she replied. “Oh. Um… I just have to take the bus. My friend lives in the city.”

  “We can take a taxi. I will drop you off.”

  She didn’t want him to do that. She just wanted to go out on her own. Maybe since it was Saturday night she could get drunk again. Two nights in a row of drinking seemed like a fairly amiable solution right now. She shook her head. “Nah. I think I can walk to the stop and take the bus.”

  She grabbed her coat from the hostess, wh
o had been collecting them. She wanted to get it on and get out the door. He wasn’t having that though. He grabbed her coat from her. “Let me.”

  She tried to force a smile up at him. She didn’t want to meet his eyes for very long. She actually felt like crying again. She didn’t want to think how much of a fail this whole weekend had been, especially when it had started to turn up.

  He was putting the coat on her now and she hated how she could feel his hands through her sweater and again upon her neck when he cleared her hair from the collar. He asked again, “You don’t want to take a taxi?”

  She shook her head.

  “I will walk with you to the stop.”

  She didn’t actually know where the bus stop was. She didn’t really know what bus to take. She turned in one direction. He was walking next to her with his hands in his coat pocket. To clear the air she said, “Thank you for dinner.”

  “It was no problem. Better than eating on my own.”

  So that was what this was. He didn’t want to be lonely. She was glad she could at least pay him back in some way for how she had acted earlier. Speaking of that, she apologized, “And thank you for helping me out earlier… and last night.”

  He laughed once. “It was no inconvenience.”

  She mimicked his laugh, feeling over and over again like a complete fool. Thankfully they walked the next block in silence and met a bus stop. They turned to an approaching bus, but she made no move to get on it.

  “Is that not your bus?”

  She reddened some. “Um… I actually don’t know what bus I am supposed to take. I should call my friend.”

  “Ok. We can wait.”

  She pulled out her phone and quickly texted her friend Amber. Her friend replied instantly, yet ignored her question of directions. She instead asked, Did you pop your cherry?

  Bethany blushed and looked up to see if Phillip was looking at her screen. He wasn’t. She replied, Later. What bus do I take?

  She waited a little longer for a reply. I want a full report. ASAP. 319.

  Bethany said out loud, “It is bus 319.”