Chapter 405: Maxwell, a classic romantic
Maxwell had made a perfect plan. In classic Maxwell fashion, they were going through every step that would result in the perfect engagement photos.
That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t Maxwell coded. Oh no. It was because this was a plan put into place by Maxwell that it was perfect for engagement photos.
They took a winter walk by the shore, twinkling lights that normally weren’t perfect, sparkling in the night sky. It was so Maxwell that he’d gotten the stretch of lights repaired just for his engagement. He was sure the city hadn’t complained, and Andrew was smiling to himself as the photographer kept taking candid photos of them.
No ring box was brought out, or even mentioned. Maxwell just chatted with him, excitement clear in his actions, his words, his eyes, but he wasn’t rushing this. The longer this took, the more Andrew’s nerves had to relax.
He was actually more worried about Maxwell, and how he was handling the cold. Maxwell eventually admitted that the coat had hand warmers in it, and he was relying on them when he wasn’t holding Andrew’s hand.
That had made Andrew laugh, smile at him sweetly, and Maxwell paused, his face growing serious as he turned and tugged Andrew to a stop. Andrew held his breath, but Maxwell just reached up, grabbing a leaf out of his hair. His smile was warm, soft, when it touched his lips again.
After their winter walk along the river, Maxwell took them to where he had made reservations.
Andrew’s head spun as he realised where he’d managed to get.
Not only was it the most expensive restaurant in the city, it was for a good reason. The chef was practically a god, a man with a knife and a mission. The food that he made caused people to cry tears of happiness. It had been a dream, a silent one, of Andrew’s to eat there at some point. The waitlist was eons long, going back several years. Each vacation was planned in advance for the chef.
It was near impossible to get a reservation for this place.
Never in his life had he imagined it would be on the day he would get engaged to the love of his life.
Maxwell looked smug as he pulled them into the hotel entrance. Of course it was in a hotel, because the top two floors were exclusively for the restaurant. Giving it the best views in the city to match the best food in the city. The photographer they had hired, who was in the backseat of the car, let out a small gasp.
Yeah. That was how Andrew was feeling.
He spun to his smug boyfriend, soon-to-be fiancé, and stared at him as a valet came out to grab the car keys.
"How in the world did you swing this?" Andrew asked and Maxwell smirked, giving him a look as if he wasn’t going to say anything, before he opened his mouth.
"I spoke to Mr. Dalton. Told him what the plan was, and how happy it would make you to eat here. He called in a few favours. We owe him a homemade cake and dinner at his place with his wife for this." Maxwell told him. Andrew felt his stomach drop. That was it? That was all that Mr. Dalton wanted for this?
"I’m not a good enough baker for that." Andrew whispered and Maxwell chuckled. He reached out, pushing a strand of hair out of Andrew’s face. Andrew knew that the photographer was getting everything.
"Sometimes it isn’t about the place, Andy, but who makes it, hmm? Your food is delicious, and I’m sure he would love to brag about how the son of one of his favourite people he’d ever invested in made him a cake. Plus, he will love the bragging rights he’ll have. He played a role in your engagement." Maxwell’s smile made Andrew tremble slightly.
"Don’t you dare. I’m barely holding myself together as is." Andrew whispered accusingly, and Maxwell let out a loud laugh, leaning in to kiss Andrew quickly on the lips before he turned, getting out of the car and handing the keys off.
"Hey, at least I didn’t book a room here as well. We’ll head home after we’re finished for the night." Maxwell told him as Andrew got out of the car. At least Maxwell spared him from helping him get out of the car. Andrew wouldn’t be able to keep it together if he had done that.
Maxwell took his hand in his and the two walked into the elevators with the photographer. Everyone was interested in what was going on, and Andrew wasn’t used to being the center of attention like this. Maxwell was calm, composed, and Andrew tried to emulate that as well.
It went out the window when Andrew recognised the hostess at the door. It was the same hostess who he had had a slight moment of confusion at the restaurant that he liked. She recognised him as well, her eyes widening, before she smiled.
"Oh! It’s so good to see you again, sir. And you as well, sir." She smiled warmly at the couple, and Maxwell gave Andrew a strange look. Andrew cleared his throat, embarrassed.
"When we had our fight, she was the hostess who worked at the restaurant. Do you work at both locations?" Andrew asked, and she gave him a slightly coy smile.
"Well, if I can tell you the truth," she gestured for the couple to lean forward, and of course they did. "Both restaurants are owned by the same people." Andrew felt his jaw drop as Maxwell’s eyes widened. She looked pleased that she had surprised him.
"Same owners? That’s not...common knowledge." Maxwell muttered and she smiled warmly.
"No, it isn’t, so please don’t tell anyone I told you. The manager is here as well. Would you like to speak to him?" She asked. "I also assume you two have a reservation?" She asked, a slight twinkle in her eyes and Andrew chuckled.
"That won’t be necessary, though I appreciate the offer. Please tell him that I say hello though, if it’s not too much trouble. This time, yes, we do. A family friend pulled some strings for us." Andrew said, his chest full. Maxwell told her the name and her eyes sparkled more as she took in the photographer and how nervous Andrew was. She wrote down something before turning and asking them to follow her.
Andrew and Maxwell were led through the restaurant and Andrew had to catch his breath. It was a stunning location. Windows all around, except for one side that had the kitchen proper. It sparkled with stainless steel and these cute, pretty tiles. They weren’t loud, given that they were probably meant to blend into the background, but it was a nice touch.
Silver, gold, dark blue, black and glass were the themes, giving the room a royal feel without being too overwhelming. Each table had a black tablecloth, with linen napkins, shiny, glittering cutlery and side plates. Oil candles sat on each table, and fresh flowers added a nice warm, real touch.
Andrew was so overwhelmed that it took him a moment to realise where they had been led.
It was a table right up against the windows, the city a beautiful, glittering background behind them. Andrew felt his eyes water and desperately wiped at his eyes with his free hands.
"He wanted just a cake and dinner? I need to make him dinner for this." Andrew choked out and Maxwell laughed. He squeezed Andrew’s hand, looking pleased with his reaction. So did the hostess who lingered around a little bit longer to watch the spectacle that was Maxwell and Andrew.
"I’m sure he’d be happy with that counter offer." Maxwell told him and Andrew nodded. Maxwell let go of his hand, pulling out a chair for Andrew and Andrew let him before Maxwell took a seat for himself. Then the hostess stepped in, draping their linen napkins across their laps with a smile before she disappeared.
The photographer was in a small chair nearby. It was a tucked away spot, out of the way for the others, but gave a perfect view of Andrew and Maxwell. Andrew was sure that was planned in advance, or that this table was often given to couples who were planning to propose. Andrew’s face felt like it was on fire.
Andrew reached for Maxwell’s hand first, and Maxwell took it, grinning. Andrew sniffed, looking around.
"They didn’t give us menus." Andrew told him softly and Maxwell laughed.
"Did you think I would take you to a place where you could panic about the price? Do you think I’m that stupid? Of course they aren’t giving us a menu. We’re getting the special, 5 course meal, Andy. I want you to feel special." Andrew almost lost it then and there. They had barely made it five minutes while being in the building, but he was going to start sobbing.
"Stop it. I’m desperately trying to hold it together." Andrew said softly, and Maxwell’s gaze softened.
"Baby, who are you trying to hold it together for? You know I like it when you cry." Maxwell told him and Andrew let out a wet laugh.
"Not in this context!" Andrew protested and Maxwell squeezed his hand.
"Of course in this context. It’s because you’re too happy to keep it all in. I’m not going to be upset about that." Maxwell reached into his coat pocket with one hand and pulled out a nice, fabric cloth, similar to what his Mom had gotten Andrew for Christmas. Maxwell’s eyes were warm as he looked at him like Andrew hung the moon and the stars. "I came prepared to wipe up some tears." Andrew felt the first one trickle over and Maxwell reached across the table, patting gently under Andrew’s glasses to soak up the tears.
"You’re too good to me." Andrew whispered and Maxwell’s smile hardened.
"No. I could be better. Don’t settle for less. Tell me when I’m being difficult, Andy. I don’t want to get complacent with you." Andrew couldn’t see that happening, but Maxwell was so serious that he just nodded.
That was when the waiter arrived, and poured a glass of champagne for both of them. Maxwell let them know that they were planning to keep the drinking to a minimum, but the waiter nodded, understanding. Then the night began in earnest, and Andrew felt his nerves take over again.
He was going to sob like a baby when it finally happened.