Midnight Memories in Bora Bora (#3)

Midnight Memories in Bora Bora (#3)


“Good evening, Monsieur Stark.” The hostess smiled as Rick and Helen approached the restaurant’s entrance.

“Good evening. I believe I have a reservation for two this evening.”

“Of course. We have your table all set up.” She grabbed two menus and moved around her little podium, smiling at them again before motioning them to follow her. “Please, follow me.”

While they had visited the resort several times since moving to Bora Bora, Helen hadn’t seen the restaurant where they shared their first meal.

“Here you are. The table you requested.” The hostess set their menus down, moving to the side so Rick could hold out Helen’s chair before taking his own seat. “Pierre will be your server tonight.”

“Thank you.”

As the hostess left their table, Helen leaned in. “The table you requested?” She lifted one eyebrow.

“Yes, I requested this table. It’s the table we sat at that first night here on our vacations.”

“I know it is the same table. I just didn’t think you knew that it was, too.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Hey, I pay attention to details just like everyone else. You have to in order to be a veterinarian.”

They both laughed, and as they calmed, a young man approached their table and set two glasses of water on the crisp white tablecloth in front of them. “Good evening,” he said. “My name is Pierre, and I will be your server tonight. Can I start you off with some wine?”

“None for us, thank you. But can we have two glasses of iced tea?”

“Of course, Monsieur. I will be right back with two glasses of iced tea.”

Helen watched the server leave, then fetched her water glass, pausing before taking a sip to glance out the window overlooking the beach. The slight breeze in the night air made the palms sway, and they looked like they were dancing to the island music playing in the restaurant’s overhead speakers. The warm, tropical air was filled with the scents of saltwater, ginger, ylang-ylang, and the faintest hint of vanilla from somewhere in the distance.

“It’s such a beautiful night,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment before she looked back at Rick. He peeked around the single, delicate orchid in a slender base sitting in the middle of the table, and he moved it along with the tealight candles around the base of the vase. The candlelight flickered on the glass, casting dancing shadows on the tablecloth.

Rick picked up his water glass. “To us,” he said.

She clinked her glass against his, and the sound was as crystal clear as the shimmering water lapping against the sandy beach in the distance. She took a sip. “I’m so happy to be back here,” she said.

“Me too. I asked myself why we don’t eat her more often while I made the reservation.”

“I thought that too. Busy with life, I guess.”

“Well, we should do it more often.”

“Once a month, at least.”

Rick held up his glass again. “Deal.”

After setting their glasses back down, they scanned the menus, picking all the delicacies that caught their eye.

“We’ll just take home what we can’t eat,” Rick said as Pierre left their table again.

They sipped their iced teas and watched the moonlight glisten off the waves and sand. Helen didn’t think the night could get any more perfect.

“So,” Rick said, setting his glass down. “What would you say if I took over the wedding plans?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I would handle all the details and just tell you when and where to be.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. So, what were you thinking we should do?”

He shrugged. “What if we got married here at the resort? I mean, I know that your best friend got married here, and you probably don’t wish to copy her, but we can have Monica, the wedding coordinator, pick a different location.”

“I think I would like that. I don’t mind it’s in the same place.” She hesitated. “But what about your parents?”

“We can invite them. If they want to come, they will. If not, we’ll see them when we visit them like your mom.”

“Okay.” She chewed on her bottom lip as thoughts fired off in her mind. “So, I guess we just need to speak with Monica . . . wait. How do you know the wedding coordinator's name?”

He grinned and ducked his chin. “I may or may not have already asked for a meeting with her.”

She raised one eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. “Oh really? And what else have you may or may not done?”

“I’m glad you asked . . .”

He lifted his hand and waved as he looked over Helen’s shoulder. She spun in her chair as Lisa and Ben weaved through the restaurant.

“Lisa?” Helen gushed. “What are you doing here?”

“We are here to surprise you, silly.”

Helen glanced from her best friend to Rick. “Did you know about this?”

To be continued . . .

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