The only reason I really go to work is to hopefully get a glimpse of her. One day last week I went into work and it was the usual boring day. When lunch time started to get nearer I began looking at the door knowing it was a distinct possibility that she would walk in. My prayers were answered five minutes later, because she walked in in this gorgeous black skirt, white blouse that was tight to her chest, and black high heels. She has to walk past my desk to get to her husbands office so I was awarded a great look at her figure today. The only thing was, she stopped at my desk. My heart stopped. I thought she saw me checking her out. She looked at me with a sly smile then kept going. I didn’t know what to do, I thought she was going to say something to my boss. I was freaking out. Next thing I know she’s walking out of her husbands office right towards me. Instead of saying anything to me she walks right on by, but throws a small piece of paper on my desk. I didn’t open it. The Paris cooking school, but not Danielle, was beginning to fade from my memory. Life was finally returning to normal until Claire took me by the arm and guided me to the kitchen. "Hank, I need to talk with you privately. It's an emergency. Tonight isn't the best time. Can we meet for lunch this week?" Of course," I said wondering what could be so urgent. "How about tomorrow at La Porte Verte, say twelve-thirty?" That will work, and lunch is on me."I smiled at her and said, "Of course not. Maurice would be embarrassed if a woman paid for my lunch. So would I."Maurice took us to my usual table overlooking the lake and brought two room-temperature flutes for the chilled Champagne. This time he was discreet and didn't ask about chilling the glasses. The déjeuner du jour, lunch of the day, was chapon farci aux marrons. We touched glasses wishing for her husband’s successful campaign and enjoyed the meal."So, Claire, what's on your mind? You seemed upset last night. It couldn't have been.
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