A Strange State of Affairs Ch. 14

            The restaurant was crowded and dimly-lit; the smell of sizzling kabobs and exotic spices filled the air.

            Fye sniffed appreciatively as he entered the building.  His stomach grumbled loudly as he went up to the hostess to confirm the reservation.

            “Right this way, Mr. Celis,” she chirped, leading him through the crush of tables into a quieter section lit by candles and sectioned off by glass walls.  He stared out at the crowd of diners while the hostess laid out some silverware on a table, sitting down when she finished.  “Your server will be with you shortly.”  She smiled widely at him and left.

            The waitress came and took Fye’s drink order for a bottle of wine.  She left quickly, leaving the artist alone once more. 

            He was pleasantly drifting off in his own thought when a very familiar voice interrupted him…

            “Hey there.”

            Fye jolted and looked up with an astonished face.

            The woman from the Tellurim show �" Sherry!! �" stood before him!!  She was wearing another pastel-hued dress, this one a soft yellow chiffon wrap dress that stopped at her ankles.  She’d paired the dress with a pair of nude, close-toed heels and a handbag of the same color. 

            The sleeves fluttered as she gestured toward the empty seat across from him.  She smiled.  “Is this seat taken?”

            The young man stood hurriedly, rattling the table.  “N-no, not at all.  Have a seat.”  He walked over and pulled her chair out for her.  She sat gracefully and watched him pour a deep red wine into two glasses.

            Sherry glanced out of the glass window that secluded them from the main room’s bustle.  “My dad comes here a lot,” she explained, “during his dinner meetings with new artists and such.”  She glanced and Fye and grinned self-consciously.  “He says the food is really excellent.”

            Fye nodded.  “So I’ve heard.”  He couldn’t hold back the wide smile that involuntarily sprang to his face.

            The waitress came, offered them menus, and disappeared.  Sherry perused her copy.  “So how was the show?”

            Fye quickly made his dinner selection, writing it down on a slip of paper for the waitress to pick up later.  He quickly added a request for a grill rack to cook the smoked kabobs on.  “The show?  Alright.  I thought of some more projects; Pona handled most of the talking.”  He shrugged.  “Apparently I’ve got a show next week, too.”

            Sherry picked up her glass.  “Well, Mr. Celis.  A toast to your prosperity.”  She stared alluringly at Fye.

            Fye laughed.  “I’ll drink to that.”  They clinked glasses and smiled foolishly at one another, the moment broken only by the waitress coming to collect their dinner selection.

            The young artist peered intently at the woman before him.  “So why were you at the show?  Any specific reasons?”

            He leaned back as the food arrived and watched as the waitress lighted the pan of coals in their grill rack.  The air filled with hazy smoke, but he continued to stare at Sherry.

            Sherry took a deep breath.  Because you were there, she wanted to say.  She flushed and managed to stammer, “W-well, usually it’s a good idea to…um…to go to art shows.  I mean, my dad’s always encouraging me to, and it’s a good way to stay in tune with the art world.

            And I like seeing new talent emerge.”  Sherry blushed again and stared at her wineglass.  “It reminds me that art is eternal.”

            “’Beauty never dies’,” Fye murmured.  He stared straight at Sherry, holding her attention with his own mesmerizing brown eyes.

            “Mmm-hmm.”  Sherry sighed softly, hypnotized by his eyes.

            “S-so what are you going to be doing until your next show?” she stammered.

            “Oh.”  Fye leaned back into his seat.  “That.  Well, I think I’ll go to the beach and take a walk or something.  Look for ideas, and stuff.”

            Sherry nodded.  There was a silence between them.

            The two started in on their food, trading tastes on the edge of their platters.  The kabobs were delicious, smoky with the char from the grill.

            “Did you know,” Sherry blurted, “that I’ve never been down to Puri Beach?”  Her cheeks were now flushed from wine and heat rather than self-consciousness.

“Wha-?”  Fye gaped at her.  “How?”

Sherry laughed at his wide-eyed expression.  “I’m from Northern Kor,” she explained, “The industrial sector, in Alber.  I’ve only been in Puri for a few weeks.”

            “So you’re not staying?” Fye exclaimed.

            Sherry shook her head, secretly pleased by his reaction.  I’m only staying until my dad’s business affairs are settled.  He can’t leave his ‘only heir’ unsupervised, you see.“  Her face grew muted.

            Fye noticed her hand resting on the table.  He moved to cover it with his own.  “You could always stay with Pona.  I mean, Vert’s a nice guy, and they aren’t moving in together until after the wedding.”

            Sherry’s eyes gleamed.  “I’d like that.”

            The young man was stunned by her smile. 

            Shaking his head gently, Fye cleared his head.  Get a grip, he thought.  The artist stood.  “Then it’s decided.”  He held his hand out to Sherry.  “C’mon.  I’m taking you somewhere.”

            “What?” she breathed.

            The artist pulled out a silver pocket watch and consulted it.  He offered his hand to Sherry again, this time with impatience.  “Hurry, or we’ll miss it!!”

            She took his hand and gasped when he pulled her from her seat.  They flew to a counter where Fye speedily paid the tab and then blew out the door.

            They hailed a taxi; Fye whispered the destination in the cabbie’s ear.  The driver sped off, paying no heed at all to other cars, the speed limit, or stoplights.  With his maniacal driving, the trip only took a fraction of its normal time.

            “Our destination,” Fye chirped as he helped Sherry out of the cab.  “Thanks.”  He threw the driver a tip, and the man nodded and sped away.

            The sun was just setting.

            Sherry stood stock-still and stared straight out at the sea.  “Puri Beach,” she breathed, then looked at Fye.  “It’s beautiful.”

            So are you, Fye wanted to say, but didn’t.  Sherry had already crossed the boardwalk and was advancing on the ocean, too far away to hear him.  Also, it sounded tacky.  He made a face, then ran after her.