"Boss, she's here again."

Vincent looked at his suit, there was no tie, but he felt he didn't look right, "Saad, give me your t-shirt."

"Boss, what?"

"You heard me, give me your t-shirt."

Saad shook his head but executed the order feeling sorry for his single and desperate boss.

Vincent slipped on the t-shirt, slicked his hair back, and went out to the counter. There she was, all smiles and sparkling eyes.

"Hi, so what will it be for you?"

Vincent's heart skipped like every time Sierra came to order today; she had her black hair let down, neutral make-up, and glossy nude lips. She wore a beige trench coat and black heels with that renowned red sole; Vincent liked her style, never overboard.

"I'll have a cheese naan for starters and a chicken biriyani."

Even her voice was sweet, Vincent thought. It was warm but not sultry, and it suited her.

"Will that be all?"

"I think it's more than enough," Sierra said, giving Vincent a smile that sent his soul floating to the heavens gates.

"Eat in or take out?"

"Take out."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity for Vincent.

"Eh, how much will it be?" Sierra said as she turned her gaze away while she tucked a strand of her behind her ears.

"Fifteen, I mean thirteen euros."

Sierra cocked an eyebrow of suspicion, "are you new here? I've never seen you before."

For the first time, Sierra scanned Vincent. He wasn't very tall, dark brown silky hair, a predominant beard, warm marron stare highlighted with long dark lashes, which gave him Bambi's gaze.

The man was charming, and there was his accent. Though he appeared to have Indian origins, there was no doubt about it; he was English. Or the man had lived there long enough to pick up the accent, which remained even when he spoke French.

"Eh, I don't think your boss will be happy if the till is seven euros short."

Sierra's honesty made the woman even more attractive to Vincent's eye," you're right. Sorry, it will be twenty euros."

"That's more like it."

Vincent laughed and stopped when he sure Sierra's inquisitive stare, "sorry, it's just it's not every day someone wants to pay more."

"I am not paying more; I am just giving the right price for the delicious food which someone had a hard time preparing. Also, I would not want one of my favorite restaurants to shut down because a new employee did know the prices practiced. Or, the owner to end up a pauper because employees are handing out freebies."

The man's body did not know which reaction he should have first. If Vincent knew Sierra better, he would hug her. Instead, Vincent blushed and prayed while Sierra searched her bag, please don't pay cash.

"Here it is."

The blue card shimmered in the woman's hand, and Vincent couldn't be happier as the woman handed her credit card.

Finally, he had her name, "Sierra Lennox."

"Excuse me?"

"Eh, sorry, it's just your name" Vincent felt the shame of being caught red-handed.

"Oh, is anything wrong with it?"

"No, it's beautiful, your name, I mean."

Sierra's cheekbones rose, and her dimples appeared, making Vincent's blood rush.

She turned her gaze away once more. The woman never knew how to take a compliment, "—uh, thank you, can I sit?"

"Yes, go ahead."

Vincent went at the back; no one else was allowed to cook for Sierra when he was around. Ever since the first time she walked into his restaurant, Vincent made sure it was his food she ate. As soon as he saw Sierra on his office camera's he would go downstairs.

The man who usually had no difficulty in approaching women hid like a child in Sierra's presence.

His employees could not get enough of making fun of him, how amusing it was to see the thirty-four-year-old melt in front of the woman.

"Come on, boss, just go out there. She won't bite," Saad, the cook, would tease while the others proceeded to prepare the other orders.

"No, no," Vincent would whisper with insistence and Saad attempted to push him out of the kitchen. The man would hold on to both ends of the wall not to be expulsed and exposed.

For Vincent, Sierra confirmed the existence of love at first sight. Even when he was not at the counter, knowing the woman waited in his restaurant was enough to make the man break a sweat. They were made for each other. Vincent was sure; all he had to do was prove it to Sierra.

That day Vincent decided to go all the way no matter the result, "here you go, madame."

Sierra took the bag Vincent handed to her, "thank you."

The silence was there again. Even Sierra found herself submerged by the strange feeling which roamed around them. It was as though something waited to happen, but what?

"—Eh, I better get going."

Maybe it was not the right day after all.

Sierra got up; the gesture made Vincent doubt even more when suddenly Sierra turned, "sorry, I did not catch your name?"

"Oh, I did not give it to you," Vincent replied, bluntly and regretting in an instant.

Sierra, embarrassed by the remark, hurried to the door. She posed her hand on the doorknob when Vincent shouted his name, prompted by Saad.

Vincent clenched his fists. Why was he chickening out?

He rushed to Sierra's side before she pushed open the door. "I am sorry I am a dunce. I am bad at this; I mean, I would like to talk to you, but.—"

Vincent knew it was all or nothing now. The man had opened the tap of his heart; the words flowed out in a cascade.

"I—," Vincent scratched the back of his head before muttering, "would it be out of place to ask you out?"

Sierra's head tilted to the side, she was not a picky girl, but it was not every day she got asked out for a date.

Vincent placed one hand on his heart," I don't mean a date-date. It can be just a coffee break or something. I wish to have the opportunity to chat?"

Sierra was getting ready to reply, but Vincent answered in anticipation, you have a boyfriend, I bet. I mean, everyone knows beautiful women are always taken."

"—No, I am not, taken I mean, it's just we have only met."

"Eh, I.—"

Sierra was not a love guru, but she knew when people made a genuine effort. Vincent watched Sierra open her purse, and she handed him a card.

"We serve coffee after test drives," Sierra said.

Vincent read it was Sierra's business card and the first step.

The sound of banging frying pans filled the restaurant with whistles.

"Way to go, boss," Saad yelled.

"Can you guys keep it down? How can I play it cool with you people making noise in the background."

"Boss?" Sierra repeated.

Vincent turned back to face Sierra. He slicked his hair back; this time, there was no need to shy away, "yeah, it's my restaurant."

Sierra's eyes shimmered as Vincent began to gain in proportions in her mind. Their eyes locked once more. The warmth of Vincent's gaze overwhelmed her, "I have to go, call me."

Vincent grinned, showing all his teeth, and pushed open the door for Sierra, "I will be sure of it."

It was the first encounter of many rendezvous and delicious meals. A love story like most wished to live.

Vincent loved Sierra and vice versa. Every month spent together paved the way to what was an inevitable but desired destination until the arrival of a six-month-old baby named Leon.