FAMILIAR EVENINGS 😌🤭
1113 Words
HIS POSSESSION
Chapter Eleven: FAMILIAR EVENINGS
A light drizzle settled over Manhattan, painting the streets in shimmering reflections of gold and white.
Inside Le Château, dinner service had just begun.
The familiar melody of the grand piano drifted softly through the restaurant while waiters moved gracefully between tables.
For Ethan Brooks, Wednesdays had become pleasantly predictable.
Chef Marcel argued with suppliers every Wednesday.
Noah always forgot where he left his order pad.
The elderly couple from the Upper East Side requested the same corner table every week.
And…
At almost exactly eight o’clock…
The front doors opened.
The hostess smiled without needing to check the reservation book.
“Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”
“Good evening.”
“Your table is ready.”
“Thank you.”
It had become routine.
Comfortably so.
“Ethan.”
The hostess spoke quietly.
“Table nine.”
He looked toward the entrance before smiling to himself.
“I’ll be there.”
No rush.
No excitement.
Just another familiar part of the evening.
By the time Adrian removed his coat, Ethan had already arrived at the table.
“Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”
“Good evening.”
“The usual water?”
Adrian glanced at the untouched glass already waiting.
“You’ve become very efficient.”
Ethan laughed softly.
“I figured I’d save you the trouble of asking.”
“You’ve succeeded.”
“I’ll take that as encouragement.”
“You should.”
Neither noticed how naturally the conversation flowed.
There were no awkward pauses anymore.
No careful searching for words.
Only quiet familiarity.
As Ethan took Adrian’s order—or rather, made another recommendation—Noah passed by carrying a tray.
He leaned toward Ethan just enough to whisper,
“You didn’t even ask if he wanted water.”
“I know what he drinks.”
“And dessert?”
Ethan smiled.
“I know that too.”
Noah gave him a knowing look.
“You really have adopted him.”
Ethan looked genuinely confused.
“I’ve done what?”
“Nothing.”
Noah walked away before Ethan could ask another question.
Across the room, Adrian watched the brief exchange.
“What was that about?” he asked once Noah was out of earshot.
Ethan sighed dramatically.
“I’d tell you…”
“…but then I’d never hear the end of it.”
Adrian’s lips curved ever so slightly.
“I see.”
“Noah enjoys creating stories.”
“About you?”
“About everyone.”
“I imagine that keeps work interesting.”
“It certainly keeps us entertained.”
For the briefest moment…
A quiet laugh escaped Adrian.
It was low.
Soft.
Gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
Ethan blinked.
“You laugh.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
Neither of them realized what had just happened.
For Adrian…
It was the first genuine laugh anyone at Le Château had ever heard.
The evening settled into its familiar rhythm.
Orders arrived.
Wine was poured.
Guests celebrated birthdays and anniversaries.
Near the kitchen, Chef Marcel called out,
“Ethan!”
“Yes, Chef?”
“The soufflé for table nine.”
Ethan smiled.
“I didn’t order one.”
Chef Marcel winked.
“You never have to anymore.”
Ethan shook his head, laughing as he carried it to Adrian.
“I think Chef Marcel has made this decision for both of us.”
Adrian looked at the dessert.
“I suspected as much.”
“He says you’ve become part of his routine.”
“And has he become part of yours?”
Ethan looked toward the kitchen.
“He reminds me to eat.”
“Does he have to?”
“More often than I’d like to admit.”
Adrian frowned almost imperceptibly.
“You skip meals?”
“When we’re busy.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Ethan smiled apologetically.
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
The words came more firmly than Adrian intended.
A brief silence settled between them.
Then Ethan nodded.
“…I’ll try.”
For reasons Adrian couldn’t explain…
That answer mattered more than it should have.
Later that evening, Ethan disappeared into the staff room for his short break.
Noah followed with two mugs of coffee.
“You’ve got exactly ten minutes.”
“I know.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
Then Noah spoke.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You usually do.”
“What do you think of Mr. De Luca?”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“I think he’s one of the easiest customers I’ve ever served.”
“That’s all?”
“What else would there be?”
Noah stirred his coffee thoughtfully.
“I’ve worked here five years.”
“So?”
“I’ve never seen someone come here almost every night.”
Ethan shrugged.
“Maybe he likes the atmosphere.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not.”
Ethan laughed.
“You overthink everything.”
“And you underthink everything.”
“That’s probably true.”
The break ended before either could say more.
When Adrian rose to leave, Ethan walked him toward the entrance as he did with several departing guests.
“Have a good evening, Mr. De Luca.”
“You as well.”
Adrian paused.
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“Did you eat during your break?”
Ethan blinked.
“…I did.”
“Good.”
A warm smile spread across Ethan’s face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The words came naturally.
Without planning.
Without hesitation.
Adrian held his gaze for just a heartbeat.
“…Yes.”
Then he stepped out into the cool Manhattan night.
The sedan pulled away from the curb.
Luca glanced into the rearview mirror.
“You seem happier.”
Adrian looked out at the passing city lights.
“Happier?”
“You laughed.”
Adrian looked mildly surprised.
“…Did I?”
“You haven’t done that in months.”
Silence settled over the car.
After a while, Adrian spoke quietly.
“I didn’t notice.”
Luca smiled to himself.
“I don’t think that was the only thing you didn’t notice.”
Outside, the lights of Le Château slowly disappeared behind them.
Inside the restaurant, Ethan watched through the window for only a second before returning to another table.
Neither man realized it.
But somewhere along the way…
Their evenings had stopped being coincidence.
They had become a quiet promise.
A promise that, tomorrow evening, one would arrive…
And the other would be there to say,
“Good evening.”
End of Chapter Eleven 🖤
- Writer
