The waiter suddenly arrived, giving them a chance to regroup.
Kennedy instantly settled on the entrée-size Caesar salad, topped with grilled chicken. “Please, put the dressing on the side.” Then she asked for water with a wedge of lemon.
As Xavier gave the waiter his order, the deep timbre of his voice caused Kennedy’s body to slightly shiver. Grilled Orange Roughy was actually one of her favorite whitefish. Maybe he’d let her sample a bite, she thought, smiling inwardly.
“I like my asparagus crunchy,” Xavier explained. “A small garden salad with balsamic vinegar will work nicely for me.” He took a last-minute glance at the menu. “Peach iced tea, please. Can you also bring us a small plate of lemon wedges?”
“Absolutely, sir. If that’ll be all for you, I’ll turn in your order right away.”
Xavier nodded. “Our order is complete. Thank you.”
Kennedy had a fleeting moment of awkwardness, but she shook it off. She was dining with a perfect gentleman, a very nice, fine one, she quietly assured herself.
The couple carried on a nice conversation as they waited for their meals.
As Xavier was very eager to learn even more about Kennedy, he asked all the pertinent questions, and she happily and truthfully responded to each. He thought that a person’s personal background was a great way of learning how they grew up and the value system they’d grown up under. Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, wasn’t too far down the road from Boston.
His eyes gleamed with curiosity. “How was life in Philadelphia?”
“Pretty darn good.” Her lovely smile showed off her fondness for the region. “I still love to go home for visits, especially on holidays. My mother, Megan, and my dad, Kennedy, retired educators, wouldn’t think of living anywhere else. However, they do love to fly to L.A. a few times a year. If Mom thought she could convince Dad to move west, I think she’d go for it. The cold weather is still pretty daunting for her.”
The mention of her parents caused Xavier to think of his. He recalled telling Kennedy a bit about them before, but he went on to do a brief recap. “No one in my family is leaving Boston. Dad is actually an L.A. Lakers fan. Figure out that one.”
“There are only Seventy-Sixers fans in my parents’ house. Like your father, I’m sort of a turncoat, too. I also love the Lakers. Dad and my brothers, Gregory and Scott, would kill me if they knew how hard I cheer for the hottest team on the West Coast.”
Xavier raised an eyebrow. “How bad would it be?”
She shielded her eyes with her hands. “Let’s just say I’d probably be disowned.”
“I doubt that.” Xavier couldn’t imagine anyone disowning Kennedy.
Kennedy looked up at the waiter when he reappeared at the table to set down their food orders. Before taking off, he made sure the couple had everything they needed.
Kennedy eyed Xavier’s meal with keen interest. “Nice portions. You certainly won’t have to go home hungry.”
Xavier laughed. “They definitely aren’t skimpy with the food, but Mr. Blue may’ve requested a little something extra special for us. He’s a great guy.”
Kennedy cleared her throat. “Well, it looks like you can tell him that in person. He’s on his way over here,” she said, half covering her mouth, speaking lowly.
Before Xavier could even react to her remarks, Reynard had arrived. “Is everything to your liking?” His dark amber gaze encompassed both parties.
“The meals just arrived,” Xavier responded, “but I know how you pride yourself on putting it out right. Never been disappointed in anything I’ve eaten here. Kennedy just mentioned the large portions.”
Reynard winked. “We aim to please. You two beautiful young people enjoy your meal. Tell my old bud hello for me whenever you speak with him again.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks for everything, Mr. Blue.”
After Kennedy cut up her salad greens into smaller pieces, she took her first bite. As she savored the tangy taste of the dressing, her eyes closed involuntarily. “Mmm, good.”
The dab of dressing left on her lower lip had Xavier desiring to lick it away. Her mouth was full, ripe and juicy, and he couldn’t help thinking of what it might be like to kiss her, imagining the tingling sensations he’d probably feel. The image of their lips locked together in a passionate coupling was vivid. Tearing his eyes away from her delectable mouth wasn’t easy.
Tinkling music, soft and melodic, suddenly drifted slowly about the room, causing Kennedy to look over to the elevated dais where the shiny black baby grand piano was stationed. The gentleman seated on the stool appeared fairly young, possibly in his early twenties, and was wearing a traditional black tuxedo.
While Kennedy and Xavier continued eating their meals, the soft music played on. She’d been able to recognize a few of the songs even though no lyrics were sung. “Play Misty for Me” had been easy for her to identify. “A House Is Not a Home,” a Dionne Warwick song her parents loved. For someone so young, Kennedy thought the pianist sure knew how to play the back-in-the-day classics.
As Kennedy’s eyes followed several couples walking to the rear of the piano area, she was surprised yet again. She hadn’t noticed the dance floor until now. It looked as if the owner had thought of everything. He had successfully pulled together both a lovely dining spot and a magnificent entertainment venue.
“This place rocks,” she told Xavier. “I didn’t see the dance floor until now. It seems Mr. Blue is quite talented and a resourceful gentleman. I love it here.”
“This supper club is a lifelong dream of his. My father often shares the history of how this place finally came into existence. I’d like to share it with you.”
Xavier began to tell Kennedy that Mr. Blue was a favorite grand-nephew to his father’s beloved aunt, Lucille Carlton. Blue thought the world of his aunt and had made sure she had at least two box seats for all his home football games. When she’d call and say she had a couple more guests to bring along, he’d make it happen.
When Ms. Lucille died a couple years before Blue’s retirement from the NFL, she had left over two million dollars to him. There had been one must-do stipulation in her will: Blue had to use a portion of the money to open the supper club he’d always talked of owning…and he’d had to do it within one year of her death or lose the inheritance.
Kennedy was astonished. “That’s such a touching story! I bet he was thrilled no end by his aunt’s love and generosity. As a football player, I bet he made lots of money. But had he intended to open the restaurant so soon after retirement?”
“According to my dad, Mr. Blue made excellent money, but not the kind of megamillions athletes make today. He’d planned to build a supper club, but he would’ve had to take out a small-business loan. The inheritance spared him the grief. He was excited.”
“I’m sure. His is one great success story. This fabulous place is buzzing with patrons and excitement. What are your plans for after modeling? Or have you made any?”
“My
