The moment they stepped into Maple Bleu, warmth wrapped around Nicole like an embrace she hadn't realized she needed.
The air was thick with the scent of roasted garlic and herbs, rich and comforting, the kind that settled deep in the chest and promised indulgence. Soft music drifted from hidden speakers, weaving through the gentle clink of cutlery and the low chatter of diners who looked entirely too dry and comfortable for Nicole's liking.
A waiter guided them to their table, his polite smile flickering just a little as his eyes took in their damp hair, Nicole's rain-spattered jacket, and Denisse's dress that clung ever so slightly from the storm. Nicole pretended not to notice.
They were seated, menus placed before them, and Nicole took a breath. Okay. Still salvageable.
"One Sirloin Steak for me," Denisse said brightly.
Nicole smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Is that all? You can order whatever you want. It's on me. I still owe you for all the trouble today."
Denisse's lips curved into something mischievous. "Are you sure about that?"
Nicole nodded. "Absolutely. Go ahead, anything you want."
Denisse grinned. "Okay. That's an offer I won't refuse."
Nicole felt a flicker of pride. Yes. Indulge. Please.
"Also," Denisse added, turning to the waiter, "I want chocolate soufflé."
"Would that be all, ma'am?" the waiter asked.
"Yes," Denisse replied, smiling sweetly.
The waiter turned to Nicole. "How about you, ma'am?"
"I'll have what she's having," Nicole said easily, "and two glasses of Château Lafite."
The waiter's smile widened. "Coming right up, ma'am."
As he walked away, Nicole became acutely aware of the eyes around them. Subtle glances. Curious stares. She shifted slightly in her seat.
They're staring because we're still wet.
We should have stopped at the mall first.
Her gaze dropped to Denisse's dress, darkened at the hem, fabric clinging where it shouldn't. A shiver ran through Denisse's shoulders, subtle but unmistakable.
"Hey," Nicole said gently, concern threading her voice, "we should eat quickly, then hit a clothing store so we can get dry clothes. You're freezing."
"I'm fine," Denisse said with a small smile. "But thank you."
Nicole nodded, unconvinced, but let it go.
When their plates arrived, steam rising and the rich scent of butter and herbs filling the space between them, something in Nicole finally loosened.
Okay. Food fixes everything. We'll laugh about the rain later.
"Wow," she said. "It looks so delicious."
"Yeah," Nicole replied, smiling. "Shall we dig in?"
Denisse nodded, practically vibrating. She sank her knife into the steak and pressed... once. Nothing. Pressed again. Still nothing.
Something was... off.
Denisse's brow furrowed. She leaned in, applying more force, but the steak remained stubbornly intact.
Nicole tilted her head, a smile teasing the corner of her lips. "Hmm... is it just me, or is that steak... being difficult?"
"Nope," Denisse said quickly, a flash of stubborn determination in her eyes. "It's fine."
Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Should we ask the waiter to check it, maybe it's a little undercooked?"
Denisse shook her head, jaw tight. "No, I've got this."
Nicole watched, silently debating whether to intervene. The knife pressed down again.
"Careful," Nicole said softly. "Do you want me to—"
"No! I've got this," Denisse declared, a fierce spark lighting her eyes. "Watch."
Before Nicole could protest, Denisse heaved one last, heroic push.
The steak resisted—then, with a sudden, rebellious lurch, it launched itself across the table like a vendetta in motion.
Straight into Nicole's face.
Time seemed to freeze.
Nicole blinked, stunned, as warm gravy dribbled down her cheek.
"Oh my God," Denisse gasped, half-rising from her chair. "I—I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine," Nicole said automatically, carefully removing the food from her face with her napkin.
She meant it. Mostly.
Denisse wasn't convinced. She leaned forward, reaching out with her own napkin, wiping gently at Nicole's cheek.
And then—
Nicole watched in slow-motion horror as Denisse's elbow nudged her wine glass.
Red liquid tipped, then spilled, cascading down Nicole's blouse, soaking into the fabric like a dramatic final act.
"Oh shit!" Nicole blurted.
"I'm sorry!" Denisse panicked, standing fully now, trying to wipe the wine from Nicole's top and pants.
"Hey, it's fine," Nicole said quickly, though her tone carried a hint of strain. "I'll wipe it."
She really tried not to sound irritated.
Oh my God. She's beautiful.
And adorable.
But incredibly clumsy.
Denisse sank back into her chair, face flushed.
"Is it okay if we go now and buy clothes?" Nicole asked, softening her voice. "We'll eat after. I promise."
"Of course," Denisse said, guilt written plainly across her face.
Nicole waved the waiter over for the bill.
A few minutes later, it arrived.
Nicole reached for her wallet.
Nothing.
Her smile faltered.
She checked her jacket pocket.
Empty.
Her chest tightened as realization dawned. No. No, no, no.
She grabbed her phone, pulling it from her pocket. The screen was black, water seeping beneath the glass. She pressed the button. Nothing.
She looked up slowly at Denisse, who was watching her now.
"I must've left my wallet at home," Nicole said, embarrassment creeping in, "and my phone won't turn on."
"I'll pay for it," Denisse said immediately, handing her credit card to the waiter.
"I'll pay you after," Nicole said.
"No need. It's fine."
"And what? I'll let you pay for everything?" Nicole protested.
"You pay for the gas," Denisse said calmly. "You're our ride, so I think we're even."
"But—"
"No more buts," Denisse said, standing. "Let's go so we can change."
Nicole stared at her for a moment, then laughed softly, shaking her head.