Freckles

The ruby red liquid seeped slowly into the crisp white linen tablecloth.

Eloise couldn’t tear her vision away from the horror of having knocked over the expensive wine. To her it was expensive. Anything over six dollars was pricey. She so desperately wanted to portray herself as a sophisticated thirtysomething and had agreed to a Merlot like she drank a bottle each week and knew the difference between a red or a rosé other than their color. Truth was, she was a cup of strong tea, dunk a digestive in it, kind of girl.

Massimo Coppola bit back a laugh as he looked at the woman opposite him. The deeply rich auburn hair cascaded in loose curls around her lightly freckled face. A face that had abject mortification all over it, her embarrassment creeping up her neck. Eloise Tate was not the typical kind of woman that attracted him but there had been something about her photo that he had found beguiling.

“These things happen madam, please don’t worry.” A waitress had appeared from nowhere and with several flurries had removed the stemware and tablecloth to replace them with fresh ones. She refilled the glasses, surreptitiously placing Eloise’s glass a little further away from the woman’s hand.

“Than…thank you,” she stammered to the server and steeled herself to face her date. “I. am. so. sorry.” Eloise shook her head and looked down at her lap where she vowed to keep her hands for the remainder of the evening and then berated herself at the impracticality of that promise. She had to eat and the last time she looked they didn’t serve dinner in feedbags.

“It’s absolutely fine Eloise. Eloise?” Massimo said her name again, so she had to look at him. “Like she said, it happens.”

“I was trying to make a good impression,” Eloise shrugged and sat back against the cushioned seat deflated, desperate for some water but deemed it too soon to go anywhere near the tabletop.

“You have done,” smiled Massimo.

“Really? Tripped on the step into the booth, thankfully not falling on my face and now the wine. I’m sure I’ll drip sauce all down my blouse. Ugh, the wine. The expensive wine. It was expensive right?”

It was Massimo’s turn to shrug. “All relative I expect.”

Eloise looked at him. He was a walking cliché of Italian looks – dark hair, tanned, smooth skin, white teeth and he just oozed money and class. What in the name of all that is good did he see in her? Why did she agree to this? “Yes. If you have the money, then a twenty-five dollar bottle of wine is nothing.” She took a deep breath and reached for the glass of water.

Massimo laughed. “Shall we get the usual speculations out of the way?” he asked and took a sip of the wine.

Eloise envied his confidence in handling the stemware. “Usual speculations”?”

“Job, where we live, ex’s, hopes, dreams and ambitions.”

“Sounds like a job interview.”

“It does, doesn’t it. I suppose that’s what we’re doing. Asking the questions so we know we’re a right fit?”

The waitress appeared with their appetizers.

Eloise looked at the white plates and the food artistically placed in the middle. She had opted for a Smoked Scottish Salmon Arancini with an herb mayonnaise.

It had looked innocent on paper.

But now visions of the creamy accompaniment dropping on to her black, slightly sparkly top ran through her mind. And why salmon? What if he wanted to kiss her at the end of the evening? Eloise smiled, “looks wonderful.” The young woman glanced at Massimo’s plate who had opted for the Mushroom Pâté with an Avocado Vinaigrette. She silently sighed. With that choice maybe he had no intention of kissing her.

“Shall we?” They both tucked into the tasty appetizers barely saying anything. “Did you enjoy it?” asked Massimo a short time later, placing his fork on the empty plate. He delicately wiped his mouth with the thick white napkin and gazed at Eloise.

Haven’t made a mess, she thought, subtly looking down at her top to make sure nothing mayonnaise like was visible. “It was lovely,” she smiled.

Massimo grinned, “you’ve got mayonnaise on your sleeve.”

Eloise scrambled to clean the obvious smear of condiment. She suddenly placed an elbow on the table and held her head in her hand. This date couldn’t get more embarrassing for her. And it was only the starters. They had yet to indulge in the main course and if she was lucky, dessert. Looking up at the sound of Massimo’s laugh, Eloise sat back, crumpled napkin in her lap, dejection on her face. “I’m…I…” she shrugged. “If we’re going into full disclosure – I’m a klutz.” Sudden tears sprang to her eyes which she quickly blinked away as Massimo laughed again at her confession.

“How much of a klutz?”

Eloise shook her head and gave a small smile which Massimo drank in. The spotlight over their table turned strands of her hair copper and gold and made her green eyes sparkle. She was beautiful. He copied her actions and sat back waiting for her answer.

“If it can be bumped into, tripped over, hooked on to…I’m the one to do it. It tends to happen when I’m in a new or uncomfortable situation.” She shrugged and in the recess of her mind felt that she had been doing that a lot on this date.

Massimo stretched his arm across the table and stretched out his fingers. Eloise’s eyes widened a fraction as she looked from his handsome smiling face to his hand. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. Warmth flooded through her as he gently grasped it. “Take a deep breath and remember that I’m trying to make a good impression too.”

Eloise quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you seriously think that you’re doing a bad job of that?”

“Swanky restaurants and fancy wines isn’t to everyone’s taste, but I figured that it was the best way to impress you. And I hate to admit my choice of restaurant was purely based on your photo.” He gave a wry grin.

“From my photo? You think I looked like a woman who likes Merlot and fancy mayo?” She laughed, inwardly cringing that she just rhymed. “Wow, never had someone think I’m ‘sophisticated’ based on what I looked like.” Hands back resting on her lap, Eloise gently rubbed them missing the warmth and how a simple gesture made her feel wanted. The last time a man held her hand was her grandad. On one of her weekly visits, she had lamented about not meeting the right man. He had suddenly gripped her fingers and said, “Freckles, there’s someone out there who will love you and your klutzy ways, believe in that. I do.”

“Well, when Eileen showed me your photo…”

“How does Eileen have a photo of me?” Eloise then remembered that the woman was her mom’s yoga instructor. “Actually, don’t answer that. I know how - my mother. How do you know Eileen?”

“Friend of the family who likes to calls herself an ‘envoy of love’ at every given opportunity.” Massimo smiled at a memory of Eileen’s matchmaking interventions. “She noticed that I hadn’t been on a date for a while and well,” he flipped his hands that rested on the table, “she showed me your photo and I…um,” he swallowed suddenly uncomfortable. Should he mention that he was immediately attracted by her green eyes and the light brown freckles on her nose and cheeks?

“Thought you’d take pity on poor little ‘haven’t been on a date in months’ me?” Eloise raised an eyebrow at him.

Massimo laughed. “You are not one to pity. I thought you very attractive and well, nowadays, I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say that of a woman. I mean, I’m not diminishing you to an object.”

Eloise glowed at the compliment as she laughed. “It’s okay. I am not offended. People need to remember that when you see someone you don’t know, all your assumptions are made on looks. Okay, this is getting a bit heavy for a first date. Do people still say that - ‘heavy’?” Eloise frowned briefly as Massimo chuckled again.

“I don’t know. I heard the other day that Gen Z’s have stopped using the laughing emoji because their parent’s use it,” said the handsome man. He sipped his wine noting that Eloise had yet to pick up her refreshed glass.

“Really? I’m forever using it! Maybe I shouldn’t find everything funny,” she grinned back.

The waitress arrived again with flourishes to remove their empty plates, refill water glasses and the wine. Moments later, she was back with the main course. They had both decided on and ordered fillet of beef, fondant potatoes and a mushroom fricassee.

“I like this place,” murmured Eloise as she smiled at Massimo.

“I’m glad,” he said. “I’d hate to have brought you to somewhere that you absolutely loathed.”

“Bad manners to say otherwise I would have thought.”

“So, you don’t like it here?” confusion flitted across his face.

“Yes, oh yes…sorry I just meant that unless you’re completely insensitive to people’s feelings, you’d be polite, even if you didn’t like a place. Especially for a first date.” Eloise shot him a look wondering if she was being too honest.

“Are you being polite then or do you genuinely like this place?”

She smiled at him, hoping that she didn’t have mushroom between her teeth, “Honestly, it’s not my go to place, but it’s beautiful and the food is divine.”

“And the wine, is just a knockout?” Massimo laughed.

Eloise rolled her eyes at the poor joke of her sending her glass of wine snaking across the table. “I think it’s too soon to joke about that.” She felt her cheeks reddening again knowing that the reaction would highlight the freckles that she had desperately tried to hide with make-up. Daring to look at her date, she was surprised to see he stared at her, a hint of a smile on his lips. Was he actually attracted to her?

Massimo moved forward, pushing his plate away from him, crossed his arms and leant in, slightly closing the gap between them. “Based on that, I can joke about it on say our fifth or sixth date?”

Eloise couldn’t remember the last time she was so surprised that she blinked in rapid succession. “You want to go on another date? With me?”

“Well, I could ask the waitress but, I’m more into you.” Massimo stared intently at Eloise. He looked at her blank face and swallowed hard. Did he just make a big blunder saying that to her? He figured as they were being candid about things, he’d honestly tell her how he felt about her.

“But…” Eloise searched the busy restaurant, the noise she hardly noticed suddenly surrounding her. She looked back at her date. “You hardly know me.”

Massimo laughed. “You can’t expect to fully know someone on the first date. But you can have an attraction and a genuine liking for someone,” he said almost shyly at Eloise.

“And…and that’s what you’re feeling?”

He nodded. "I hope you do too?"

“Yes, um...wow, I um…” Eloise leaned forward and pushed her plate towards the side, the action causing the glass of Merlot to dangerously tip.

Massimo quickly grabbed the stemware before it fell again. “Next time, we’ll just not order any wine.”