I could have checked for wedding rings but it was better to let my thoughts run wild. They were new lovers – attentive and aware. They sat nearly side by side at the small round table, not across from each other, as one might expect. Though I couldn’t see their eyes, I knew they were oblivious to everyone in the room. I imagined boldly approaching their table. I have good news and bad news, I’d tell them. The good news is that I’m a writer and you’ve stirred my creative juices. You would make perfect characters in a story. The bad news is that I write crime fiction and one of you must die. Fortunately, I relinquished them from my thoughts at that point, so as not to further intrude on their romantic dinner, no matter how unaware they were of my interest.
The velvety red against the white linens initially drew my attention to their table as I scanned the lower level of the tiered dining room. The rose looked so perfect that I inhaled, imagining the heavy sweet fragrance. Though the chairs were empty, an aura of expectation shone like a spotlight above the table. Then again, it could have been a spotlight.
The long-stemmed rose and chilled champagne awaiting their arrival revealed initiative, planning, and of course, passion. I remember directing my husband’s attention to the table below and murmuring something about the rose and the champagne but I’m not sure he heard me. I didn’t notice their arrival; my interest had returned to my own dinner. The next time I glanced down, the couple was leaning into a chaste kiss as the sommelier re-filled their glasses. Romance writers would have been salivating, or at least scribbling in a dog-eared notebook, as the lovers communicated intimacy at the table for two.
This is in contrast to the facebook update this morning saying I’d returned from holidays without a story line, without inspiration, despite the people-watching and open mind. It was later, after I signed off from facebook, that I remembered this stunningly handsome couple. I must have smiled at the sight of them. They were flawless. They appeared to be in their thirties – old enough, yet young enough.
Slender, but not thin, the woman’s movements were graceful as she lifted the fluted glass to her lips. Dark hair curled at her shoulders. He leaned slightly forward in his chair, as if her voice was soft and he didn’t want to miss a word she spoke. The couple possessed an alluring air, reminding me of old-time movie stars.
I suppose my holiday did have its inspirational moments. Maybe these lovers will end up in a story after all, and who knows, they both might live through it. If they don’t, it will surely be a crime of passion.