time, she had been in Paris with Grand-mere Celeste in a small fromagerie with a vast array of cheeses. A tiny slither from a wheel of Brie de Meaux, the king of surface ripened cheese, was given to her to sample. It was a revelation. The taste was never forgotten. From that moment on she was hooked on French cheese.
Once again, Chilli sliced the cheese, placing it on the pear, and popping it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she leisurely chewed and swallowed. Slowly her tongue came out and lazily licked a tiny crumb of cheese from her top lip. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and smiled, unaware he had been watching her.
“Mmm it has that delicious condensed nutty texture and a slightly sweet aftertaste, doesn’t it? You can almost hear the distant cow bells echoing across cold mountains.” She laughed, enjoying herself all the more.
“I’m sorry?” he said with a look of astonishment. “You had cows?” he asked a little bewildered.
“No, no, no.” Laughing, she put her hands up. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have a vivid imagination when it comes to food.” She paused and exhaled heavily. “Now, we’ve been far too busy eating. We really must discuss what pieces you think will work for you. You know for some reason, I’m really drawn to that one,” she said indicating a particularly large canvas. “I’m not sure if the scale and proportions are right for where you want to hang it, so when you get home tonight, have another look and visualise it and see how you feel.”
She kept speaking but she noticed that Matt had become quiet. Something had changed and she was unsure what it was. Perhaps he still didn’t have the confidence to make a decision. Once or twice she glanced at him and noticed he was watching her intently. She took her attention back to the paintings.
“If you think that the large one will work, I think that it’d be fantastic to get that smaller one there as well for another wall. Together they work well, don’t you think? Choosing art is such a personal thing, isn’t it?”
Finally, he found his tongue. “I’ll be guided by you Chilli. If you think that those two will work, I’ll get them.”
“It’s important you take another look at where they’ll be hanging first,” she insisted, slicing another piece of gruyere for both of them and putting it on the sliced pear. She handed it to him.
“I’ve never tasted anything that delicious.” He told her. “I know it’s only cheese and pear, but it’s like a feast of kings.”
She laughed. “Now that might be over doing it.”
“You know, I’d love your opinion on the apartment Chilli. If it’s not an imposition and you don’t have to race off, would you like to have a quick look? It’s only around the corner. And then we can come straight back to the gallery. It should still be opened.”
She checked her watch. “I suppose I could. I’d love for you to decide tonight. I don’t want you to miss out.”
Matt’s apartment was on the third floor in a block of about 30, with six separate villas on the ground floor. Getting out of the lift, they turned right and immediately were at his door.
On entering, she was drawn through the apartment and straight out on to the balcony where the stunning view of the city painted a picture no artist could create.
“Matt you don’t exactly need artwork when you have this view,” she enthused, waving her arms around to include the panorama. Then dragging herself away, she walked back inside and had another look at the apartment. There wasn’t much furniture, just some key pieces. He explained that the look he was trying to achieve was relaxed yet sophisticated. She understood.
For the next few minutes, they discussed where the paintings would hang, and if they thought that they were right for the apartment. The view was spectacular, but nearly everything in the apartment was white. Matt said that this was because he didn’t want his new art collection to have any competition from colour. The two pieces they had selected earlier could not have been more perfect.
For Chilli, the view from the balcony was intoxicating and once again she stood out there for a few minutes taking in the city lights. Turning around, she noticed Matt taking a bottle of champagne out of an ice bucket on the coffee table and pouring it into two glasses.
“We’d really best get back or we’ll miss the pieces we’ve selected,” she told him, motioning for a half a glass.
Matt handed her the glass but the way he was looking at her unnerved her, so she turned away. Taking a small sip, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt down the last of his, much too quickly. He refilled his glass yet again. Glancing back to the view, her brow wrinkled. Definitely time to get back. Her fingers drummed on the balcony railing.
She sensed rather than felt him standing close behind her. Her body froze. What was he doing? She didn’t turn around. Her mind was racing. Why did she come to his apartment? What the hell was wrong with her? She’d not even given it a second thought.
He stepped in a little closer and slightly leant against her. Chilli could feel her heart pounding through her chest. Through the fabric of her blouse and his white shirt, she felt his warm muscular body. Oh my God. What was he thinking? What signals did he think she had been sending?
She didn’t move. He must have taken it as being a sign, as he then put his arm around her and pulled her into him. He pressed himself closer. She could smell his aftershave and feel his breath on her neck, and she realised she was out of her depth.
Finally, she found her voice, blurting out, “No Matt. You’ve got it wrong. Please don’t!” Her voice trembled. She stepped around him. “Look I’m sorry, but it’s time for me to go!” Walking quickly through the apartment, she picked her handbag up off the lounge and headed out the door and down the stairs, taking two at a time, not even waiting for the elevator. When she reached the footpath, she realised her hands were shaking.
She heard him running after her and calling out. “Chilli wait, look I’m sorry. Wait up and I’ll walk you back to your car.”
She didn’t turn around, but kept walking. “No Matt, I’ll be fine to walk myself. Please don’t!” She quickened her step until she was almost running. But he continued after her.
“I’d prefer to walk you back to your car,” he insisted.
She stopped and faced him, brown eyes wide. “I don’t want you to.” She spoke quite forcefully. With that she broke into run.
She jumped in the car, locked the door behind her, started the engine and then began to cry. Her crying turned into sobs. With the engine running, she placed her head against the steering wheel. After what seemed like ages, she was able to sit up, put her seatbelt on, and put the car into gear and head for home. She was such an idiot! She was stupidly naïve to get herself in such a position, especially at her age! And then anger set in. Where was Rob? Why wasn’t he looking after her? Why hadn’t he looked that night before getting out of his car? Why? Why? Why?
On the short drive home, almost numbly, but out of habit, she looked in her mirror to see if Rob’s silver BMW was following close behind. Of course she knew it wasn’t. But how could she lose a lifetime of habits? When they had been out in separate cars, he would follow close behind. It had made her feel safe and protected, and she realised now that she’d never told him that. She’d taken it for granted he’d protect her for the rest of her life.
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