mallest of the three rooms that had been converted for public dining。
It was exquisitely decorated in Colonial style； with a smattering of the
English； a dab of the French； and a triumphant dose of pure Americana。
This particular room held only three tables； each set for two。 Theirs
was in a far corner； lit softly by a candle。 It was an intimate setting；
one Chloe would have wished to avoid had she been thinking clearly。
But she wasn't。 At some point Ross had ceased to be a part of the past。
There was only the candlelit present。 She looked over the flickering
flame and met his gaze。
〃Do you like it？〃 he asked； endearingly eager。
She smiled。 〃I do。〃
〃I asked the maitre d' to bring a bottle of Chassagne de Montrachet。〃
If his fluency in French amazed her； his knowledge of fine wines was no
less astonishing。 Fine wines were something she did know something
about； a legacy of her father's acclaimed cellar。 Unable to resist； she
grinned。 〃So that's how the Army sedates its brats。 Fine wine。 And here
I felt so sorry for you。 I'm sure the Chassagne de Montrachet will be
superb。〃
Ross laughed。 〃The Army had nothing to do with it。 I developed a taste
for wine after I left the Peace Corps。 I have several treasured bottles
at home…a Mouton…Rothschild； a Chateau Lafite…Rothschfld。 My favorite is
a 1959 Ceteaux du Layon from the Loire Valley。〃
〃Whoa。 Very impressive。 What other goodies do you have up your sleeve？〃
His right hand flew to his left cuff； one long finger making a pretense
of searching。 The search was forgotten when the maitre d' reappeared；
wine in hand； to present the bottle to Ross。
While
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