Read Online Eternal Echoes, Emblem of Eternity Trilogy Book 2 by Angela Corbett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angela Corbett
Tags: Young Adult Paranormal
Ads: Link
before long, we were in the air. We talked the whole trip to wherever-it-was-we-were-going, but Emil steadfastly refused to give me any hints about our final destination. When we finally landed, I recognized the mountain-shaped peaked roof of the Denver International Airport.
Denver is about two hundred miles from Gunnison. It’s accessible by highway, provided snow storms haven’t closed the roads. By car it would take around four hours to get there; by plane it took less than thirty minutes. Before my childhood obsession with becoming a Ninja Turtle, I’d once thought fondly of being a princess. I’d imagined myself stepping out of private planes onto tarmacs, waving and charming people as I got into my car. I’d abandoned those dreams after being introduced to pantyhose and told princesses have to wear them all the time. I also figured my tendency for saying exactly what I thought would pose potential princess problems. Being a Ninja Turtle, or Wonder Woman, was much more appealing. But, as our plane pulled into a private hanger and the door opened, I couldn’t help but feel a bit like royalty.
We were met by a black Mercedes on the tarmac. Emil helped me down the steps of the plane and the driver, who introduced himself as Aaron, opened the car door. I slid inside as gracefully as I could considering the size of my dress. Emil sat beside me.
Before long, we were driving through the brightly lit streets of downtown Denver. We pulled into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant I’d never heard of, but the lights outside and tastefully done color pallet of romantic reds and golds made me think Olive Garden would pale in comparison.
Aaron opened the car door. I got out, sliding my hand around Emil’s arm as we walked into the restaurant. The scent of garlic and fresh bread hit me, further confirming this was going to be an excellent meal. I looked around at the décor and people. Women wore elaborate formal gowns, and men were in tuxedos or suits made from fabric that I was sure cost more than my car. The restaurant dress code explained the fancy dress Emil had bought me, and his very fancy suit.
I expected to be seated in the dining area, but instead, the host called Emil by name and took us to a private room decorated in the colors of deep red wine and midnight sky.
We sat in large, fabric covered chairs with high backs. Blooming, blood red roses filled a small square vase in the middle of the black tablecloth. The room was softly lit by candlelight. Our server, Kurt, placed our napkins on our laps, then explained the menu and different courses before putting a loaf of bread and spiced olive oil on our table. He filled our glasses with ice water, and Emil ordered a glass of Merlot. I stuck with a strawberry flavored Italian soda. After spending an overwhelming amount of time trying to decide what I wanted, we ordered.
“This is amazing,” I said as Kurt left the room. “I’ve never been to a restaurant as fancy as this.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
I tilted my head. “Did Cassandra like Italian?”
He smiled, his thoughts seeming to drift for a moment. “She did.”
The server stepped back into the room with our antipasto. My salad with four cheese dressing looked amazing. So did Emil’s plate, filled with creamy cheese, grapes, pears and candied pecans.
“Tell me about her. About us.”
Emil looked at me over the flowers. “You were amazing. I knew I was supposed to be with you from the first moment I saw you.”
It sounded like a similar reaction to what I’d felt when I saw him sitting across the room on the first day of college. “How did we meet?”
“Technically?” he asked. “At a ball, during your debut season. You were the talk of high society that season.”
“You said, “technically.” Did you know me before the ball?”
He took a drink before meeting my eyes. “It was just before the season started. I saw you in the park. You were accompanied by friends. I
Denver is about two hundred miles from Gunnison. It’s accessible by highway, provided snow storms haven’t closed the roads. By car it would take around four hours to get there; by plane it took less than thirty minutes. Before my childhood obsession with becoming a Ninja Turtle, I’d once thought fondly of being a princess. I’d imagined myself stepping out of private planes onto tarmacs, waving and charming people as I got into my car. I’d abandoned those dreams after being introduced to pantyhose and told princesses have to wear them all the time. I also figured my tendency for saying exactly what I thought would pose potential princess problems. Being a Ninja Turtle, or Wonder Woman, was much more appealing. But, as our plane pulled into a private hanger and the door opened, I couldn’t help but feel a bit like royalty.
We were met by a black Mercedes on the tarmac. Emil helped me down the steps of the plane and the driver, who introduced himself as Aaron, opened the car door. I slid inside as gracefully as I could considering the size of my dress. Emil sat beside me.
Before long, we were driving through the brightly lit streets of downtown Denver. We pulled into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant I’d never heard of, but the lights outside and tastefully done color pallet of romantic reds and golds made me think Olive Garden would pale in comparison.
Aaron opened the car door. I got out, sliding my hand around Emil’s arm as we walked into the restaurant. The scent of garlic and fresh bread hit me, further confirming this was going to be an excellent meal. I looked around at the décor and people. Women wore elaborate formal gowns, and men were in tuxedos or suits made from fabric that I was sure cost more than my car. The restaurant dress code explained the fancy dress Emil had bought me, and his very fancy suit.
I expected to be seated in the dining area, but instead, the host called Emil by name and took us to a private room decorated in the colors of deep red wine and midnight sky.
We sat in large, fabric covered chairs with high backs. Blooming, blood red roses filled a small square vase in the middle of the black tablecloth. The room was softly lit by candlelight. Our server, Kurt, placed our napkins on our laps, then explained the menu and different courses before putting a loaf of bread and spiced olive oil on our table. He filled our glasses with ice water, and Emil ordered a glass of Merlot. I stuck with a strawberry flavored Italian soda. After spending an overwhelming amount of time trying to decide what I wanted, we ordered.
“This is amazing,” I said as Kurt left the room. “I’ve never been to a restaurant as fancy as this.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
I tilted my head. “Did Cassandra like Italian?”
He smiled, his thoughts seeming to drift for a moment. “She did.”
The server stepped back into the room with our antipasto. My salad with four cheese dressing looked amazing. So did Emil’s plate, filled with creamy cheese, grapes, pears and candied pecans.
“Tell me about her. About us.”
Emil looked at me over the flowers. “You were amazing. I knew I was supposed to be with you from the first moment I saw you.”
It sounded like a similar reaction to what I’d felt when I saw him sitting across the room on the first day of college. “How did we meet?”
“Technically?” he asked. “At a ball, during your debut season. You were the talk of high society that season.”
“You said, “technically.” Did you know me before the ball?”
He took a drink before meeting my eyes. “It was just before the season started. I saw you in the park. You were accompanied by friends. I
Similar Books
