Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate, Part Two.

I slept fitfully that night. Excited, scared and confused all at the same time.
I could not keep a clear picture of Francis in my minds eye.
His features kept blurring like an over possessed add for wrinkle cream.

The day both dragged and sped by. I did my nails 3 times.
Finally going with a classic fall red.
A warm color, like my hair, like I will make my eyes. 

I told no one of the impending date (??!!??)
That for me is very unusual. And maybe not safe, but we are only going to Starbucks...

I changed clothes at least 12 times. To much cleavage, to little cleavage, I own too much black. Can you own too much black? I settle with a long black skirt with a nice side slit. I figure it can't be too high, my mother bought it for me. Then I chose a tasteful shirt black with a gold and white pattern that drapes, shall we say, artfully. This my mother also bought so I figure it can't be too suggestive. For jewelry, I go with a vintage Karl Lagerfeld matte gold and pearl drop earrings and leave my throat bare. I also have the matching bracelet with hanging pearl drops and angels. I figure, I might need them since the fact I am paying such insane attention to detail for a person, a man, I am so confused about propones.

It is 6:18. Too early to leave yet. I take a final look in the mirror and think, is this to formal?
Then I say to myself. No, this is me. And who is He?
6:19. the dogs give a mournful whine that they are in there room and not with me. 
Do I have on enough perfume? Do I have on too much?
6:22. I decide to leave, you know,  just in case one of the neighbors see me and I get caught in a conversation.
6:23 I start the car and Bastille's Skulls is on "When our lives are over and all that remains, are our skulls and bones now, let's take it too the grave"
I change it to the classical radio station. As I near my first light, I have to slam on the brakes because I fail to notice the gray car in front of me slow down to let someone into our lane.
This startles me too my core. I breathe, I pray for the rest of the light.
I take Broadway because I have to kill some time and find yet another divinely inspired spot in front of a church. The car clock says 6:40 and is 12 minuets fast. So I am perfectly on time, as I think about that and whether or not I should be, I am almost late.
I take a final check of my lipstick in the review mirror and head out.

As I walk down the ramp from the back door of Starbucks I see him immediately. Even in his muted tones of navy tonight, Francis is color in a sepia tone world. 
I know I am flushing. What a fool am I. Maybe I should have not worn black.

"Hello Elizabeth". He smiles full and pleased.
"Hello Francis".
"So no calling me Frank for you"? 
"It seems beneath you", then I proceed to stair at my feet as if I can visually will them to move forward.
"Please sit down, I wanted to ask you a question"
I think I have done something, been wrong in some way, it must flash across my face because he laughs at me. Laughs!
"Are you laughing at me"?
"Your charm is pleasing"
I ponder and sit.
"I was wondering if  you had supper this evening"
I realize I have forgotten to eat since the early AM.
"I have not, I was saving room for Hot Chocolate" 
Was that as stupid of a thing to say as it sounded out loud?
"Would you like to dine at the cafe a few doors to my right"
I compose my grin.
"If you would like, most of the restaurants in this part of town are pretty good and we are off of tourist season now, so it will be OK we do not have a reservation".
"I have never understood American's need to plan every detail of there day, spontaneity grows the seeds of adventure"  

He rises, I rise, he holds out his hand and turns towards the door.