Evening


He was chatting up the maître d' when he saw her.

Salvador liked to check out the competition - he didn't, at any rate, see it as being unfaithful to his own establishments. Ascendio Italiano was one of those places that had staying power despite being all the way out in a little nothing town like Slandermouth.

He had shaved and dressed and made his way to the Italian restaurant where he was meant to be dining with his lawyer. Who, of course, cancelled.

The maître d' was sympathetic. He knew Sal and instead of showing him to a table, they lingered in the restaurant foyer to talk about a new chef. And that's when the dark haired witch made her entrance.

It was a weeknight so the place was pretty quiet. Without thinking about it, Salvador smiled at her, because it was natural and easy to smile at beauty. There was something familiar about the woman, though.

       "I will be with you in just a moment, madam." The maître d' greeted.
"Hey, nah," Sal waved this off with a laugh. "Ladies first and all that, never mind me."

He turned to her in earnest, making no disguise of his appraising gaze. "Don't I know you from someplace?"

My Dearest Addy,

I am so terribly sorry to say that I will not be able to make it to the dinner you are hosting in honor of your husband being pronounced president of the “Rare, Vintage, and Restored Broom Association”. I have come down with a vicious cold and I would be absolutely gutted if I were to pass it on to anyone. Give Kenneth my most heartfelt congratulations!

All my Love,
Annie

Anastasia ran over the contents of the owl she had sent her younger sister, Adelaide, in her head as she strolled down the street, her heels clacked gently as she made her way towards the doors to Ascendio Italiano, the crisp evening breeze tugging at the delicate raven waves that fell across her shoulders with an effortless grace. She wasn’t supposed to be here in Slandermouth. She was supposed to be wining and dining at her sister’s sizable estate as the family, and Kenneth’s society friends congratulated her brother-in-law for his new role. To be completely honest, Anastasia didn’t even have so much as a sniffle to contend with that evening, she just couldn’t bare the thought of spending her free time pretending to find her brother-in-law and his friends to be even remotely entertaining. Kenneth was a decent man, a wealthy man, and he treated Addy well, but Merlin’s beard Annie had never met a more boring man in her life. Usually it was frowned upon in the Dupont family if you missed an event, it was part of the expectation that came with their last name that, if invited, a Dupont never declined. But with Addy and their mother there, as well as it only being a gathering for Kenneth’s promotion, Annie was fairly certain she wouldn’t be missed. The worst that would happen was Addy would voice her frustrations about not getting an opportunity to set Annie up with one of Kenneth’s friends…which Annie was all too eager to avoid happening.

Stepping through the door she smiled politely at the maître d', wasting no time in removing her cloak and draping it over her arm, revealing the navy blue dress underneath, the color of it only emphasizing the darkness of her hair.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, it’s really not necessary though.” she responded to the man who had been having a conversion with the maître d', her lipsticked lips curving into a graceful smile. “I am in no rush.”

Anastasia took a moment to look the man up and down as he questioned if they knew each other. He was handsome to say the very least. Well dressed with a charming smile that accompanied his laugh. She had met plenty of people with American accents, but his voice did not ring a bell. Annie’s bright green eyes met the intense dark color of his, holding her there for a moment or two. No, she would have remembered. Despite all the wix she met at various galas and social events, she would have remembered those eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe so.” she answered politely. “Perhaps you’ve seen my sister, or my mother, I’ve been told we look indistinguishable at a distance.”

He tilted his head to one side, catching her cadence and accent. No, he would remember a voice like that.

"Maybe, maybe..." Salvador slipped his hands into his pockets, conversational. "Kinda hard to believe there's two more of you running around out there."

She had a very distinct appearance. Not, in his experience, where style was concerned - her clothes implied a certain class and character - but she was one of those rare, natural beauties. It would be a shame if he let opportunity slip him by.

"Either of them frequent Calaveras, on Diagon?" he suggested - it wouldn't be civil to suggest any of his other establishments, which were either beneath this kind of witch or out of her sphere. "That's my usual watering hole."

Sal extended a hand to shake as he met her in the eye. "Salvador. I'm in the restaurant business, so to speak."

“Ah, yes, I believe we’ve all been there at one point or another. I can not speak for my family, but it’s been ages since I’ve gone to Calaveras.” Annie glanced him up and down once more, not quite caring if he noticed, he was handsome, pleasing to look at, and he hadn’t made the slightest attempt to be subtle as he had taken in her appearance. Normally she would have found his blatant observation of her utterly off putting, but instead she felt intrigued to see where this little interaction would go should she allow it to continue. What harm would a bit of flirtation do? Besides, it wasn’t as if she was being improper or rude.

“Perhaps I’ll have to see about making a reservation there again some time.” she added, returning her gaze to his, slipping her hand into his as she did.

“Anastasia. It’s a pleasure to meet you Salvador.” she said with a sweet smile.

The maître d' clearing his throat pulled her attention away for a moment, though she still let her hand linger in Salvador’s as she turned her head towards the employee.

“Madam…Your table is ready…” he said politely, holding a single menu in his hands, looking uncertain if he should have interrupted their conversation or not. Raven hair spilling over her shoulder as she turned back to Salvador, Annie smiled, pausing for a moment before impulsively deciding to ask.

“Are you dining alone tonight as well, or are you waiting for someone?”

Anastasia. Now wasn't that one hell of a name? It really fit her, too. A certain kind of name and a certain kind of look was enough to tell him all about the kind of family this lady came from.

"Please, call me Sal..." he smiled back, hand still in hers. "All my friends do."

Nobody could blame the maître d' for interrupting but his timing left a lot to desire. Salvador was suddenly very very glad that his lawyer cancelled. He'd have to send the guy flowers or something.

"Alone," the wizard nodded in the direction of the dining area. "At my usual table. Why? Yours have a better view?"

He didn't want to be pushy - being pushy never works, not for the kind of gal he liked - but Anastasia seemed forward enough in her inquiry.

“Sal.” Anastasia echoed, her smile coloring the tone of her voice. “Well if we are to be on such casual terms, most who know me well usually call me Annie.”

The poor maître d'. The boy looked awkward standing there as they subtly but shamelessly engaged in a flirtatious dance through their conversation, but it didn’t stop her from continuing.

“Ah, so you’re a regular here as well I take it? Unfortunately I don’t dine out often enough to have a usual table, though I would hope view alone wouldn’t be the only factor one might consider when an opportunity for company is presented.”

Annie turned to the maître d’.

“Would it be too much trouble to collect another menu?” she asked politely before returning her focus to Sal. “Perhaps it would be worth it to accompany me as I’m seated, see if the view is worth a change in scenery?”

Annie. It was a sweet name, one that he couldn't immediately match with the woman standing before him. But it spoke of a more affectionate personality underneath her refined exterior - and that made him very curious.

"Sure..." Sal grinned, glancing her over again. "I mean, it's already looking pretty good."

The maître d' seemed to take this overt compliment as a cue of sorts; he gave a little bow and gestured for them to enter ahead of him. "But of course, another menu. Please."


He would have to give the guy a good tip later. They were seated far from the center of the restaurant, at a table by the windows that overlooked the ocean view. The black sea was calm. It caught the light of stars in the clear sky and made for a great backdrop.

"You much for sailing and the like?" Sal asked as they were left to peruse the menu, though he hardly had to. "Or is it more of a spectator sport for you, Annie?"

Sal’s compliment had not gone unnoticed by Annie as they made their way to the table, though the only hint that she had heard it was the slightest increase of the soft smile that played on her lips. She knew countless other women who’d simply melt and gush over Sal’s simple turn of phrase, who’d react as though completely swept away by the notion of being pleasing to observe. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the compliment, she found it flattering nonetheless, Annie just wasn’t one to measure a man’s attractiveness by the quality, regularity, or directness of compliments. Over the years of her mother parading her and her sister through the never ending sea of practically perfect pureblood suitors, Annie had learned that anyone could say something swoon worthy without putting much behind it, or having the substance to back it up.

Still…something about Sal had her intrigued to see what lingered beneath his attractive smile and smooth words.

“I’ve enjoyed an excursion or two on boats before, though they were more for leisure than anything else.”  Annie said, looking through the window beside them at the inky water. Returning her attention to him she turned the question back to him.

“What about you, Sal? Do you often find yourself called to the sea, or do you prefer your feet firmly planted on solid ground?” Annie leaned in from her side of the table, her arms slightly crossing over each other as she rested them on the table, her voice silky and sweet, smooth like golden honey drizzled over warm buttered toast. Effortlessly elegant, even in the most casual of conversation just as she was raised to be.

Oh she was a real treat, Annie. Everything from her looks to her voice to the way she eyed him now - purposeful and unshy.

"I grew up by the sea," he admitted as he closed his menu, sliding it to the side. "Did a bit of sailing, on and off. Still do. Not one for being firmly planted, as you put it..."

Salvador smiled, and didn't look away when a waiter approached to take their orders. He had whatever the latest addition was, some kind of squid ink pasta in a sauce of local herbs. Wines were recommended, debated.

When they were left alone once more, just them and the sea, he continued in a lighthearted voice.

"So you know I'm in the restaurant business, that's my hand shown." Sal gestured, as if turning over a hand of cards. "What does a lady like you do to get by these days?"

He could guess. Yeah, he could guess on daddy's coin. Or mommy's, whatever, he wasn't sexist.

“Sounds exciting.” she stated genuinely as he explained his ties to sailing and the ocean. Though a brief telling, it was intriguing nonetheless. Something told her his minor dissatisfaction with solid ground wasn’t only in regards to the topic of enjoying a bit of time spent sailing.

Annie’s order was placed without much fanfare, no questions or inquiries, she knew what she wanted and didn’t waste time with her selection. A glass of Chenin blanc to go with her entree of shrimp and gnocchi with a creamy garlic parmesan sauce.

It was one of her favorite moments in a conversation, one that she found rather telling of a person once she answered the age-old question of what she did with her time. She knew the assumption that came along with her appearance, her manners, her last name. She was undoubtedly curious to see how Salvador would react to hearing she wasn’t just a well trained pureblood show pony who knew how to charm a man with a flourish of a skirt and carefully timed giggles. No…that had been her sister, not Annie! It wasn't that she hadn't benefited from her upbringing, she most certainly had, her trust fund had guaranteed her comfort and luxury for the rest of her life, but she craved something more stimulating than garden party chitchat and debated about canapés.

“Oh nothing all that fascinating.” she started, downplaying her answer as the waiter made a brief appearance to pour their respective glasses of wine.

“Occasionally I assist my mother or sister in planning one of the family’s dinner parties. My aunt needed help with a gala she put together last month.”

Annie nodded her thanks with a polite smile as the waiter left them again.

“I don’t always have time to lend a hand though.” she knew she was dragging it out, but there was something so pleasurable in allowing someone to assume she was just your run of the mill pureblood priss whose only goal was to be a housewife and socialite, just to see how they’d react to finding out she wasn’t.

“Working for the Ministry keeps me fairly busy.” she added oh so casually, her eyes leaving his just for the briefest of moments, glancing away for a second as she took a sip of her wine, her deep ruby lipstick leaving an imprint of her bottom lip on the smooth surface of her glass.

Dinner parties and galas, sure, yeah, just normal stuff.

It was funny. He knew that life - sometimes he lived that life, having climbed the heady heights at which those parties (and that's what they were when you took away the fancy words, just parties) were held. But Sal always felt like an outsider.

Like he'd snuck in, like he wasn't meant to be there. Or to be here, across the table from a very pretty witch who'd probably known nothing but that life.

"The Ministry?" he repeated, too late to keep the surprise out of his voice. "Didn't have you pegged as a working lady."

Well you couldn't accuse him of dishonesty. Salvador played it off lightly, with a laugh, as he looked her over with renewed interest. Okay, okay, he could picture it maybe.

Or maybe he had a type. Kuester was a Ministry witch too.

"What's it you do?" he asked, curious. "Or do you want me to guess? You're no auror, I'd bet. How about transportation? No, wait, hold on..."

Sal narrowed his eyes and cocked a grin. "Minister's office?"

An amused smirk curved her lips as Annie lifted her wine glass once more for a sip.

“Transportation?” she echoed with a laugh. “Goodness no!” This little game was certainly entertaining.

“I am the Administrative Coordinator for the Improper Use of Magic Office.” She corrected him pleasantly. “It’s mostly paperwork and making sure people go where they are needed, though occasionally they call me out to the field to look into something.”

Annie adjusted herself in her seat, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers just below her chin.

“I suppose it’s my turn to guess.” she said matter of factly, though the playful smile still twinkled in her eyes. “You said you were in the restaurant business ‘so to speak’” she recalled, quoting his own phrasing. Annie let her eyes drift over him shamelessly.

“You’re certainly no host or waiter, and you’re far too charming to just be the general manager…” Annie trailed off, pondering her options as she lifted her gaze to him, studying his features. “Perhaps a consultant of some sort? An owner even?”

Administrative Coordinator.

He grinned. Annie didn't look like an administrative coordinator - not here and not like this, in her element. But he could believe it, sure. She had smarts. You could see it in her eyes if you watched carefully (and he was watching).

"Restauranteur..." Sal leaned back in his chair, grin widening. "That's the fancy word for it, so they tell me."

It was his whole life. When he was a kid, it had been a dream to own a place, run it, pour yourself into it. How many people got to say they achieved their childhood dream?

He wasn't one to brag - he liked to think he walked the walk, which was enough for a real man - but he wasn't about hiding himself either. Modesty thy name is not Salvador.

"Wolf & Lamb is one of mine," Sal added conversationally, and winked. "If you're ever feeling more adventurous. Only the best set of fangs for you."

Vampires was a good topic. Told you a lot about people, their opinions.

“Really? Wolf and Lamb.” Annie replied, her playful yet soft smile lifting a bit more, an breathy but amused laugh escaping her lips as he offered her the best fangs.

Not wanting to be rude, she paused for a moment as the waiter stopped at their table to place their plates in front of them. Swiftly she removed her elbows from the table, sitting up straight and proper in her chair, nodding her thanks at the worker as he presented her with her food. With a delicate swoosh she laid her napkin in her lap as they readied to eat their dinner.

“I’ve heard some rumblings about that sort of experience.” she said once they were left alone once more. Daintily she speared a gnocchi with her fork. “Some say it’s a dreadful thing to go through. Though, I’ve heard some find it euphoric in a way, intoxicating even.”

Once again she briefly paused, only for a moment to take a bite of her meal.

“I’ll admit, if the latter is correct, there’s something somewhat indulgent about the idea, almost sensual.” she said, her gaze moving from her plate up to Sal to gauge his reaction. She had been raised to be perfect, to be proper and polite, but that didn’t mean she was averse to something out of most people’s comfort zone.

It didn't exactly surprise him that she wasn't being a prude about vampires. Wolf & Lamb had a varied clientele but a lot of them were folk who had money and who felt they were above visiting actual covens.

That was why he had bought the place and it was the reputation he encouraged. Lots of wixes didn't feel safe being on vampire territory. His restaurant, though? There were humans all over the place. It had polish and safety. Or relative safety anyway. People came for the risk.

"I'd be pretty bad at my job if I told you I wouldn't know..." Salvador grinned, reaching for his drink. "But it's different strokes for different folks. I tried it once, intense stuff. Like nothing else."

Once and only once. He didn't go around chasing highs. For him it had been a rush, like he'd run a mile a minute and come out of it feeling lighter than air. Others... well he heard others got horny over a bite, or lethargic. Some panicked.

Annie seemed like she could be convinced into trying it, though, and wasn't that a fun image? Sal wondered how she would react.

"You know," a gleam entered his eye. "I think we're gonna get along really well, Annie."