As the waiter drew the curtain, a chill ran down her spine.

She'd heard about Chez Nous...how very exclusive it was, how each u-shaped booth was separated from the others, so that the elite could dine without the stares of onlookers and other uninvited interruptions. She'd read--in some hoity-toity rag, about how no waiter would bother you until you pressed an intercom button on your table, indicating you were ready to order, or to have the next course be served. She'd never dreamt she would find herself dining here one day - and certainly not as a reward for this type of achievement.

She didn't kid herself...she knew that the curtain was not about to be opened again anytime soon, how the waiter was not about to be summoned for a long while. He liked to take his time with her, allowing nothing to interrupt their session together. Not until he was finished with her. Completely finished.

She looked across the table, past the candles and the orchids, and into his deep, ste...

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