Champagne Diaries: shades of love, part 4

Cameron walked into the quiet restaurant and immediately made eye contact with Roxanne who was sitting at the bar. “Damn,” he whispered. It’s too soon to fall in love.

The first thing he noticed was her hair. She wore large ringlets that framed her girlish face. One defiant curl rested on her forehead just above her brow bone. Lovely… no pretty. He settled on striking. He moved a few steps closer to get a better look at her. Her skin was the shade of dark chocolate mixed with cinnamon red and rays of sunshine. She wore a bright green dress, pearl stud earrings and knee-high brown riding boots.

If he knew himself well he would have turned around and run out of that bar. He would have walked back home, finished the bottle of Veuve- Clicquot and given his heart time to heal. But Cameron was a romantic. He convinced himself that the past two years in an indifferent marriage was penance enough. It was time to move on. As he stood still smiling at Roxanne, he committed to the belief that she was his absolution.

Roxanne sensed his gaze but double dared herself not to make eye contact again. “Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look,” she repeated over and over. Instead, she fixated on the shades of blush in her glass of Champagne Billercart Salmon Brut Rose. She tipped the glass to catch some light from the sconces. Orange mingled with rose and coral to blend the loveliest shade.

billecart_salmon_rose-l

As she brought the glass to her nose she smelled tangerine, pear and fennel? “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,” she repeated. Cameron smiled. He recognized her battle and waited for her to surrender. Resistance is futile, he thought. They were already in love. Roxanne’s resolve weakened. She closed her eyes and sipped the Billercart Salmon Brut Rose ($85). Flavors of black cherry, plum, raspberry, and spice were exposed. She opened her eyes, licked her lips, and faced her future.

She was ready. Cameron walked over with a smile. “Hi, can I buy you a bottle?”

***

Back at his place, they didn’t blame the champagne.  They didn’t apologize for moving too quickly. They didn’t even speak. Instead they both quieted any reservations and yielded to the tempo of fate.

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    Tyrell

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      Regine Rousseau

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    Olin

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      Regine Rousseau

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