Chapter 114 - The Candle-lit Dinner

"Surprise!" Gabriel greets her and throws his arms around her.

She's so stunned and grateful and relieved and annoyed and she hates him so much right now for making her so frightened—that Claire crumbles from all her myriad emotions. She starts crying.

She doesn't notice the exquisite candle-lit dinner set up before them, or the string quartet in the corner, or the petals of red and white roses on the floor leading from the door to her chair by the dining table. All of that is lost on her, as she whimpers like a baby in Gabriel's arms.

"Please don't frighten me like this again," she mutters. "I won't be able stand it. If something actually happens to you, for real, I don't know how I'd live through that."

Gabriel hugs her even tighter. "It's a prank, Claire!" He had been laughing but now that Claire's crying seriously, he realizes he must have done it overboard. So he whispers, "I'm sorry. But I just wanted to surprise you."

"I'm sorry too," she says.

"For what?"

"For earlier. This morning. When you had to walk out of my suite."

"Oh, that," he says. "My walking out was a prank to your prank."

"Really?"

"Well, not really. But wasn't it hilarious?"

Claire sniffles. She looks around and notices the set-up for the first time. "What is this?"

"This? I'd like us to have dinner by candlelight. But I have to thank Edgardo here for escorting you safely."

"That's nothing, sir. My pŀėȧsurė," the security guard says.

Claire turns to the guard. "You knew all this time?"

The guard shrugs. "Sorry."

"I asked him to do this bit to make sure you don't get lost in this darkness."

"It's odd that the city suddenly has this power outage," she says.

"Actually, only the surrounding blocks. A small part of the power grid," he says.

"How did you…" then she connects the dots. "You're responsible for this? You 'caused' the power outage? The streets were so dark, Gabriel! I had to walk and run and stumble on the way here. I thought you were…I thought you were dead."

He hugs her again. "Sorry," he whispers. "But I thought it would be funny and sweet at the same time. I didn't really think through about this plan. I'm an idiot, you know."

"So you caused this part of the city to go dark just so this—"

"—This candle-lit dinner will truly be worth it," he says sheepishly. "Aside from the amazing food flown in, courtesy of Wolfgang Puck."

She sighs. "That's so irresponsible, Gabriel."

"I'm sorry," Gabriel says firmly, "But I'll send my people throughout this block later, and if there's any trouble or complaint arising from this power outage, then I will compensate them."

"It's not always about the money," she says.

"Well, sometimes it is." He takes a deep breath, and glances at the table. "I'm sorry. I think I may have gone overboard. I really just wanted this to be memorable."

"Memorable in a traumatic way, Gab."

"I'm sorry," he says. "But can we at least eat something? Can we sit down? We've been through so much these past few days. We deserve a little indulgence."

"Okay," she says, allowing Gabriel to lead her toward the table. He helps her take her seat, like a true gentleman (that is, if you can forget the fact that he just made her girl walk two blocks through the half-darkness). And as if on cue, the string quartet starts playing some romantic tune.

"That gave me goose bumps," she says, smiling now.

"It's all for you, Claire," he says. "I hope you're happy."

She says nothing. She wants to say, yes, I'm deliriously happy. But five minutes ago, she was all sweaty and arguing with the security guard about the existence of a working elevator. This was a prank, a surprise that has a left a sour taste in her mouth. But she gazes at him across the table, with the aroma of good food wafting through their nostrils, with his pleading eyes, in her heart the knowledge that this man isn't known to do something like this to anyone—it's hard not to give in to the moment and just let the happiness wash over her.

"If I can forget all the hardships, then I'd be happy," she says.

"Come on, just now," he says. "Let's forget everything else. Let's be a bit selfish, just this once, Claire. Just this once."

She gazes at him. "Okay."

Gabriel flicks a finger, and a uniformed server arrives with a trolley of food. He starts meticulously putting on the table every covered dish.

"I didn't bother about serving this as a formal multi-course dinner," he says. "I hope you don't mind."

"These smell absolutely scrumptious, Gab!" she says, her mouth watering.

"I had to ask Wolfgang a very special favor for this," he says, smiling.

"Do you mean THE Wolfgang Puck? The famous chef?"

He nods. "I wanted to surprise you with a feast of the dishes that made Wolfgang famous. He's my consultant in a number of restaurants I own in the French Riviera. A good friend, too. When I explained to him what this feast would mean to me, he dropped everything and went to work. Good thing he's just in nearby Hong Kong, attending some business with a new restaurant. It was easy to fly these in within minutes after Wolfgang cooked them."

"Oh, my God," Claire mutters, uncovering one dish after another. She does so almost reverentially, as though the food are holy relics of some saint. "My mother adores Wolfgang Puck. She loves his chicken salad."

"I know." Gabriel laughs, gazing at her with meaning. "Everything's here. The famous Lobster Cobb salad, the chicken salad, the angel-hair pasta with goat cheese and thyme, the Grand Marnier soufflé, the salmon with sorrel. Everything. Then we can finish these off with wild strawberries and vanilla ice cream, which they'd serve later because, you know, ice cream melts."

Claire gets a spoonful of the soup and her eyes close, savoring it. "Jesus. And this is just the soup."

He smiles, watching her. "Are you happy now?"

"Just a little bit," she says, giggling. It seems whatever she went through just to get here, it's all forgotten.

Claire's ears perk up upon hearing the music. "Oh, that's familiar. I know that song."

"It's from 'Phantom of the Opera'."

And as if on cue, a gentleman walks out of a door and begins singing to the music.

No more talk of darkness

Forget these wide-eyed fears

I'm here, nothing can harm you

My words will warm and calm you

Gabriel stands up, takes her hand. Claire hesitates, but she relents. She lets Gabriel take the lead, as they sway gently to the music. He even begins singing along to the second stanza.

Let me be your freedom

I'm here, with you, beside you

To guard you and to guide you

Claire gazes in his eyes as they sway. She, too, begins singing along with him in a duet that's surprisingly good. Even the gentleman, the official singer, stops singing and allows them to finish it.

Say you love me every waking moment

Turn my head with talk of summertime

Say you need me with you now and always

Promise me that all you say is true

That's all I ask of you

Claire closes his eyes and rests her head on his shoulder. Gabriel breathes in the scent of her hair and closes his eyes, too, dreaming of the blissful days ahead, as the quartet reaches the most emotional part of the music.

"I'm sorry, Claire. All these stupid pranks stop from now on. We'll have fun, but in a different way."

"Don't frighten me again, please," she says.

"I promise."

He stops and tilts up her chin, gazing into her eyes. He kisses her, gently, but full of longing. He tastes her, and in his mind, her lips are a million times more heavenly than all that scrumptious feast on the table.

And they would have gone like that forever, if only the door didn't crash open, and out comes Miguel, saying, "What happened to my bro—"

But he stops in his tracks, stunned, gawking at the scene of Gabriel kissing Claire in the middle of that garden.