It had been a warm day. We arrived at the sidewalk cafe about 9 pm. The sun was just down and there was a purple tinge to the sky above the buildings; the air was still quite warm and humid.
The maître d’ handed me a menu as he seated us. He was followed closely by our waiter who set a basket of bread on the table and poured us each a glass of sparkling water and a glass of the house red wine.
I handed him the still-closed menu. He smiled and said, “The salmon *carpaccio* and *caprese* again, sir?” I nodded and returned his smile.
When he walked off, I returned my gaze to my companion. She looks stunning in her brightly colored floral shift. In this light the yellow and orange in the dress make her eyes a deep emerald color. Her cheek bones are high and her lips are full. But her eyes are everything. Even as she turns them down from time to time, demurely, they command attention.