Burned (Beautiful Mess) (2 page)

"Nice day," I said over nervously. Ethan looked so comfortable with himself driving the car, and I was quite the opposite. I felt like we should be talking about something. The silence was a bit awkward.

"Yeah," Ethan replied, eyes on the road. "And a nice girl sitting right next to me," he tiled his head casually at me. He said this like a song lyric. I had a feeling he sang this kind of line quite often. But still, I flustered.

"How do you know I am nice?" I giggled loudly. "You just met me." Darn. What kind of question I just asked him? I
wanted covered my mouth but it’s too late.

Ethan turned and looked at me with his piercing green eyes. "Both my eyes and instinct told me so," he
smiled with amusement. "Besides, we have an amazing date ahead of us to find out if we will be nice for each other," he winked.

That wink really shut me up. Heat rushed up to my cheeks and I nodded at Ethan quietly. Ethan had quite the reasoning
-he must be since he got into one of the toughest law schools.

"Are you blushing?" Et
han teased as his attention went back to the road.

"No," I said quickly, turning my face toward the side window.

"Cute," Ethan chuckled.

Ethan parked the
SUV on the Main Street next to the pizza place and got out of the car. I guessed we were having pizza. Finally, things were shifting toward somewhere normal.

"Looks like
it's hard to find parking space as always," Ethan opened the car door for me. "Do you mind walking a few blocks?"

"We are not having pizza?" I pointed at the pizza restaurant in front of us.

"No?" Ethan laughed. "Why would I take a beautiful girl like you for pizza?"

"Oh," I was surprised by the comment, whether he meant it seriously or not. I heard some people rated their date with the quality of restaurant: Italian sit down restaurants for
hotties, sandwiches for averages and bars for one night stands. I guessed it was good that I got a grade better than "P" for pizza? Did it stand for "pass" too? My hope rose up a little-not that I actually expect a handsome supermodel-looking guy like Ethan to be really into me. Why the heck a hot guy like him would need to find a date on the internet anyway? Guys like him could easily date girls anywhere.

We walked passed a few restaurants college students frequented on Main Street. Main Street was right outside our campus. Most restaurants targeted students as their main customers except one-the Little Palace. The restaurant set on the west side of the Main Street, standing tall with its delicately painted Renaissance style dorm. Two marble statues of the Greek gods guarded its front entrance. People walked by could see a sea of the golden candle lights hanging from the restaurants ceiling through the windows. Fresh bouquet of orchids and exotic flowers I couldn't name decorated the cherry wood tables. The most irresistible feature of the restaurant was its smell. It smelled like grandma's heartwarming cooking but with a sense of illusive supremacy. Also, it was no place for college peasants.

Ethan stopped right in front of Little Palace. "After you" he looked at me, gestured me to the entrance.

I was pretty sure my mouth was forming
a silence O shape when I realized that was where we were going. "We are going in?" I asked. Thankfully I was actually wearing a dress and heels, but I still felt underdress.

"Yes, Dana, we are," Ethan was looking at me with that same amusement since we met.

"Okay," I took a deep breathe. Funny I was getting stage fright going into a restaurant.

Ethan opened the door for me and I carefully stepped in. Walking by the restaurant many a time, I used to imagine doing a graceful entrance the day I eventually got in Little Palace. Now the only thing I could focused on was not tripping over my high heels.

"Good evening," the head waiter at the front desk greeted us. His eyes glanced over me and rested on Ethan. "Do you have a reservation, sir?"

"Yes, can you look up the reservation for Lancaster?" Ethan walked in like he owned this place. So Ethan had the last name of a British monarch.
That made sense, I thought.

"Ah, of course, sir," the waiter's face lightened up at the sound of his last name. "The
Crimson table, this way, please."

Ethan followed the waiter and I followed Ethan. A few steps forward, Ethan cleared his throat and turned backed at me.
"Sorry, Dana, lady first. I should let you walk before me."

What? I looked at him blankly. The elderly ladies in the tables nearby started to stare. The jewelries on their necks reflected blinding lights that almost succeeded concealing their wrinkles. Realizing what he meant, I awkwardly switched places with Ethan. Why was he trying so hard to be a gentleman? He was fine as he was. The waiter stopped and waited for us with a poker face.

After a walk that felt like a mile to our table, Ethan rushed ahead to pull out my chair. We finally sat down. Ethan ordered wine and I asked for water. The head waiter handed us the menu and politely dismissed himself.

"My apologies, Dana, like I said, this is pretty new to me," Ethan said, picking up the menu.

"You mean coming to Little Palace?" I still couldn't believe Ethan took me here. I felt honored but also unprepared at the same time. I would be more comfortable for a pizza date. But Ethan was far from being average and I just couldn't figure him out.

"No, I come here quite often," Ethan opened the menu and flipped the pages. I waited for him to elaborate a bit more but he didn't continue.
Jeez, would it hurt his style to explain a bit further?

I switched my attention to the menu and opened it. Oh, not bad, the cheapes
t dish on the first page was $28. I could probably afford one if I skip a few lunches. Wait a minute, that was an appetizer.

"See anything you like?" Ethan asked me.

I looked up from the menu and saw his gorgeous face. I was about to say something stupid like "yes, you!" when our table waiter came for the rescue.

"Good evening, I will be your waiter for tonight," he said with a professional smile and began to recite tonight's specials like Italian poetry. My communication professor would definitely give him an A+. "Please take a look at the menu and ask me any questions. I will be back shortly. Enjoy the evening." He ended with a perfect note.

I turned to Ethan and found his bright green eyes looking at me. "Ethan," I felt obligated to break the ice. "This place is so…lovely. Thank you." That was all I could say. I could be totally freaking out in this comfortable leather chair with hard wood handles sculpted into dragon heads. I was in Little Palace with the hottest guy I had ever dated. Yet I was here thanking him calmly like everything was normal. That professional communication class I took really paid off.

"I am glad you like it, Dana," Ethan smiled. "Do you know what you are getting?"

"No," I continued studying the menu, pulling away from Ethan's handsome distraction. "I am not very familiar with the dishes," I said in a low voice. That was an understatement. Everything on the menu looked Greek to me.

"I can offer some suggestions," Ethan said and reached out his hand to point on my menu. His finger
blushed mine slightly and I felt an electric wave sent through me. I sucked in air sharply the moment we touched, amazed by the effect this small contact had on me. "Bouillabaisse here is good."

The dish name sounded French. And all I got was how sexy Ethan sounded when he said something French. I raised an eyebrow and beamed at him.

"It's a kind of seafood dish. They have the fresh catch shipped daily," he explained. "I like fish."

"Ah, I like fish, too," I said a bit too enthusiastically. Finally, I found something we had in common. I was having a hard time making some connection with Ethan. Well, except that little touch with our fingers.

When our head waiter came back, I ordered the Bouillabaisse and Ethan picked out the appetizers for us and ordered something that sounded like Italian. His Italian sounded just as sexy as his French. I couldn’t get enough of it.

"Dana, you mentioned in the email you like ballet?" Ethan asked, holding his wine glass.

"Yeah, I took some classes when I was little. Sometimes I practice it for fun," I said. So he noticed this little detail in my email.

"That's why you have graceful posture," his eyes trailed down from my head but stopped politely when they reached a certain point.

"Thank you?" I gave him a tight smile. If sitting on the edge of my seat was graceful, I could be graceful more often.

Beautiful music came from the other side of the restaurant. I looked toward that direction and saw a string quartet playing music. I didn't know Little Palace had its very own live music.

"They are playing Mozart's String Quart in D Major," I mused.

"Very good," Ethan looked a bit surprised. "You know classical music."

"I remember that from the music history class," I shrugged.

"My parents adore classical music," he said, leaning forward. "They fly across continents for concerts."

"Must be nice to be able to travel so much," I was amazed.

"I travel whenever I can," Ethan seemed to like the topic. He started to talk about his travel experience in Japan, Brazil, Egypt,
most of Europe and even South Pole. I felt drowning in the green of his eyes. He had seen so many things I had only read about in books.

The rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly. I was pretty sure I use the wrong salad folk but luckily nobody saw. I had one of the most delicious meals in my life. Ethan continued to talk about his travel experience and some recent concerts and shows he attended. He seemed to be impressed by my knowledge about the Eastern Island-his latest travel destination. He said even some of his classmate
s from law school did not know the Island's location.

"How do
you like your desert, Dana?" Ethan drank the last sip of his glass of wine.

"It tastes like heaven," I was getting a little sugar high from my raspberry chocolate mousse.

"I hope you are having a pleasant evening, Mr. Lancaster?" There came our head waiter-the guy led us here from the front door.

"Absolutely," Ethan raised his empty wine glass. I hoped he was telling the truth. At least for me, this date was a rollercoaster. "You are from Portugal?" He asked the waiter. His name tag read "Rodrigo".

"Yes, sir," the waiter replied. Ethan started to speak in a different language which I could only guess was Portuguese. The waiter seemed surprised and replied in Portuguese. The conversation lasted for five minutes. I sipped on my glass of water to kill the awkwardness.

"Looks like I am a bit out of practice. I used to speak Portuguese more fluently," Ethan said to me after the waiter left.

"Why do you know how to speak Portuguese?" I asked. If he knew every language of the lands he travelled to, I would freak.

"Well, it was a silly story," Ethan leaned on the table. "When I was in ninth grade, I had a crush on a girl from Portugal. So I secretly started to learn Portuguese and wanted to impress her…So…"Ethan smiled faintly
and his voice trailed off. His eyes were staring at something distant. I wondered what made his face dropped all the sudden. Ethan cleared his throat, realizing he was zooming out. "Well, that's how I learned Portuguese," he gave me that super-star smile again.

"I see," I nodded. What a sweet story. For a brief moment, I thought I had a glance at Ethan
beyond his perfect look of a Greek god. He was human after all. Perhaps I could really get to know him.

Chapter 3

I was disappointed when Ethan offered to drive me back to my dorm right after dinner. Usually when my dates would ask me to get a drink in a bar or watch a movie. Even then, I usually never heard from the guys again after first dates. I was afraid that it would be the same with Ethan although that wouldn’t surprise me much. 

I sat in his car, looking at the campus scenery passing by in silence. The night was dark and quiet. The dim lights in the campus made it look mysterious. Although I had one of the most fabulous dinners of my life with Ethan, he was still a mystery to me. I glanced at him. He seems rather attentive at driving and enjoying the view. Maybe I was too quiet that he forgot that I was sitting in his car. Or he enjoyed the silence as much as I do? Oh, if only…

“Here we are,” Ethan parked the car in front of my dorm. I released a long breath. We were finally here.

“Well, I had a good time, Ethan,” I looked at Ethan, taking a mental photo of his face. It would be good for the memory in case we wouldn’t see each other again.

“Same here,” Ethan smiled at me. I couldn’t guess what he was really thinking. He must be an expert at dating. Everything he did was in control, calm and unflustered.

“Thank you for driving me back,” I said politely, not ready to depart. It was time to say good-bye. That empty feeling since I started dating washed over me again. Chances were I would never hear from Ethan again. I wished the time could slow down so I could stay longer with him.

“No problem. I am happy to do that,” Ethan said. He was staring at me. This time I stared back at him. As night falls, the color of his eyes were of the deep forest and I was like a lost deer looking my way through the woods. So much for men being dangerous species, as my Dad had been warning me since junior prom.