They looked down Fifth Avenue and searched the street corners for the green light that signaled there was a subway station nearby. There wasn’t one in sight. “Let’s walk to Fifty-Third and Seventh and take the train from there,” he suggested, and she nodded in agreement.
They walked on.
“So, is it just you and your sister?” she asked.
Julien shook his head. In the light that streamed from the streetlamps, his hair reflected bright orange. “No, my brother, Christophe, is the oldest,” he said. “He stayed in Montreal.”
“Oh. Montreal? That’s where you’re from?”
Julien nodded.
“Did you play ice hockey growing up?”
“Of course.”
She laughed at his blunt response. “Sorry. Not to change the subject from your brother.”
“Yes, no worries. He was the one to assume the mantle of the family business. My father would have preferred me to . . . In fact, he’s never gotten over it.”
“Even after seeing how successful you have been?”
“Yep. To him, culinary is not a ‘real’ profession. To him, I’m a fool for leaving his business behind.”
“Oh? And what’s his business?” she asked.
“Finance. He finances start-up companies, buys and sells, blah blah blah.”
“Well, that sounds dreadful,” she said. Her heart fluttered when he responded with a dazzling smile. “I think you made the right choice.”
“Do you?” he asked, his eyes earnest.
“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “When I see you working at DAX, it’s clear that you are pursuing your passion.”
“Well, yes,” he replied. “Ever since I was young, it was clear to me I’d need to pursue my passion to be happy.”
“So how did you get into cooking?”
“My siblings and I would spend the summers at my grand-mère’s place in rural Quebec. She taught all of us how to cook. Christophe didn’t care for it, but Rochelle is an excellent cook—probably better than me—but she listened to my father and found her way into finance. As for me, once I started I didn’t want to stop. My father and I fought about my path constantly. When he said he was going to call all his friends in Montreal to make sure no one would finance my venture, I left for New York.”
“Wow. And you made it.”
He nodded. “Yes. Not an easy endeavor, but I accomplished what I set out to do.”
She wanted to say, Good for you for following your dreams, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked at her watch. It was 12:30 in the morning.
“Are you sure this place will be open this late?” she asked.
Julien thought about it for a minute. “I think so,” he said. “It is New York, after all.”
They entered the subway at Forty-Ninth Street and Seventh Avenue and boarded the N train moments after they descended to the platform.
They traveled along in silence for fifteen minutes, sitting side by side on the subway bench. Every time the train lurched, the movement threw Lumi against Julien’s side. After the second time, she decided not to slide away, feeling her willowy arm pressed against his muscular one.
It felt surreal to ride in a subway car with Julien after midnight, their arms pressed together in this way. It was new for her to feel safe in a man’s presence. With Colton, she had always suspected that if they were to get mugged, she would be the one fighting off the attackers while he hid behind a tree.
The subway came to a stop at Eighth Street. Julien took her hand and she followed, walking quickly to keep up with his long strides.
“West, we should walk west. East is where I would walk if I were going to play chess,” Julien said.
“You play chess?”
“I like to, when I have the chance. You can imagine how often that is,” he said, grinning.
They stopped in front of a cavernous restaurant named Miz Suzie’s Island Spice, whose awning had been fashioned into a faux thatched-roof hut.
Julien held the door open for Lumi and they stepped into the restaurant. The space was decorated with strings of multicolored lights and potted palms similar to the ones at MoMA. A boisterous dance-hall beat played in the background.
An amicable-looking woman with coffee-colored skin ushered them to a corner table. Julien pulled out Lumi’s chair for her and then scooted it back in after she sat. There was an aroma of coconut and rum in the air.
“Is someone drinking coconut rum, or do they just spray that around?” Julien wondered aloud.
Lumi shrugged. “If that’s a spray, I want it for my apartment,” she replied.
A tall waiter with tortoiseshell glasses greeted them and asked for their drink order.
“I’ll have a rum and Coke,” Lumi said, inspired by the aroma in the air.
“Make that two,” Julien added.
He leaned back in his chair, which was upholstered with a palm-tree print linen fabric. He had loosened the first couple buttons on his shirt, and Lumi could see a smattering of red chest hair peeking out. His face looked relaxed, and his eyes were twinkling. Lumi would have never thought so, but Julien seemed to blend right in with the environment. She smiled.
Julien cocked his head, gazing at her with curiosity.
“You’re so different here than you are at DAX,” she blurted out.
He smiled widely. “I suppose I am. For me, the best part is that for the first time I get to sit down at a table with you,” he said.
Lumi glanced down at the salt and pepper shakers. Was it really so wrong for her to be out with him, getting some fresh air and good food?
He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “This seems like as good a time as any to tell you that I don’t know what it is, but you do something to me,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
She swallowed, taken aback. Had he been reading her mind? He studied Lumi’s eyes, her expression, her body language, and whatever he saw in her did not deter him from speaking the rest of his mind.
“Whatever it is, I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, crazy as that may sound when you’re talking about thirty-eight years of life.” He paused, his amber eyes fully focused on her brown ones. “And I have to know if you feel it too. Lumi, we’re far away from DAX. What do you say we just forget about the restaurant and be ourselves for one night? If it doesn’t work out, we don’t have to ever talk about this again.”
That didn’t sound unreasonable. One night without so many rules. If she was being honest with herself, he did do something to her too. No one else’s cooking had the same surge of electricity as his did. She had never tasted sage in someone’s dish and still wasn’t sure what it meant. If this thing did end up working, what would that mean for them? She decided to shelve the issue until another time and nodded at him in agreement.
The waiter returned with their rum and Cokes and asked if they were ready to order.
“I’ll have the coconut shrimp and rice with peas,” Lumi said, not having looked at the menu.
Julien nodded. “Mmm, sounds good. I’ll have the oxtail.”
They fell into a lull once more. Livelier music started to play and Lumi heard some cheers and whoops from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that there was a tiny dance floor in the back of the restaurant.