Who: Raven Reyes and Daryl Dixon What: Dinner Where: Squirrel Creek When: Not long after Raven's arrival on the network Warnings: None Status: Completed Gdoc
Talking over the network was easy. It didn't require being face to face with people. Even if Johnny and Bell would probably try to get her out into the world. Something that she mainly did for her research. Otherwise, she liked staying inside. Away from people and the world. Focusing on her novel and her job.
She'd been told about Squirrel Creek (What kind of name was that?) by the head chef. The guy that had been talking about lobster and steak. Not that she'd ever had lobster. Steak, on the other hand, was amazing. Something that she enjoyed despite the faces that her parents made. Especially since she liked her steaks rare. They liked theirs well done and that was just atrocious.
So, when she does get to Squirrel Creek she stops short. Raven honestly didn't like talking to people and people talked way too fast for her. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she lets her eyes roam over the place for a moment. It looked nice enough. For the moment, however, she moves a bit to stand to the side. Maybe coming out to a place like this was a bad idea.
Daryl was expecting her, so she didn’t have to wait long. He made his way to the front, scanning the people. His gaze landed on her, and even though he’d never met her he knew she was the one he was looking for.
“Raven?” he said, voice lilting with a question because there was always a chance he was wrong. He was pretty sure she was the one he’d invited to the restaurant, though. He wasn’t sure why, but he could just tell.
She was gorgeous, honestly, that was his first thought. He tried to snuff it down. That wasn’t why she was here. He wanted to share godd food with her. Maybe it was a date, but an informal one if so. No, that was crazy. She didn’t know him, he didn’t know her. Which was one reason to go on a date.
Yeah, he really needed to not think that way before she even said the first word to him. Talking on the network was one thing. Talking face to face was another.
She'd been half tempted to turn and go when some guy came from the back. Someone that she didn't know. Or, well, no. She didn't know him. However, her name came from his lips. Well, okay. Maybe he'd been the guy on the network. The head chef.
"That'd be me."
A part of Raven knew that she'd have to do the one thing she didn't like. In high school her best friend had been there to buffer things. To make sure that people treated her the same way that they treated him, especially when it came to talking. So, she could feel her heart thudding in her chest more than hear it.
"You'll have to face me when you talk."
“Are you deaf?” he asked, and then immediately looked mortified. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” He gave an awkward smile. He hadn’t meant to be rude, but he realised too quickly that the question could be considered rude.
“Let’s go sit down, it’s less chaotic in the dining room.” He’d reserved a table for her, toward the kitchen but not right in the path of the kitchen doors. No one liked to sit where the waiters were constantly breezing past you throughout the meal.
He pulled the chair out for her. “I’m really glad you came. I’ll have your lobster feast ready in just a few minutes,” he told her. He was looking forward to seeing her reaction to it. Lobster was one of his favorite meats.
"It was a bit rude, but to answer your question, yes."
Honestly? Most people wouldn't even ask, they'd just assume and that agitated her even more. People asking if she was deaf or not didn't really bother her as much. Not like it would most people. She wasn't most people, though.
She follows him towards the back, sitting down in the chair he pulls out," I prefer when things are less chaotic." It didn't overwhelm her then. Not like a place that tended to be crowded and so many people close to her. Or the idiots that tried to get her attention and when they couldn't they’d grab her shoulder. Last person to do that she'd hit and accidently broke their nose.
"Feast, huh? Alright, I can't wait."
“I prefer less chaos too,” he told her. Chaos was annoying. People tended to get irate and demanding and unreasonable when there was chaos. Daryl much preferred order and organization.
“I’ve got a four course meal planned for you. Soup, salad, steak and lobster entree with red potatoes and asparagus, and desert.” He was giving her the full works, because why not? If he couldn’t spoil his guests, then what was the point?
“I hope you brought an appetite.” He flashed a smile.
"Less chaos is always good."
She could honestly say that her and her best friend both preferred less chaos. It was one of the reasons that they tended to stick to their usual spots. Those spots were quiet. Not that either of them had to worry about that to begin with.
"I don't think I've ever had a four course meal in my whole life," she tells him with a slight smile. Probably not true with how she was raised before the accident, but still. The nannies made sure that she had the proper three meals a day. It wasn't until she met John that she really got out and about.
"Luckily for you, I haven't had anything all day. So, I'm pretty hungry."
“Excellent.” He got her drink preference and which soup she wanted, then headed to the kitchen to get the first course, including a basket of made from scratch bread. Daryl believed in treating any customers in his restaurant like family, but he was definitely giving Raven preferential treatment. He liked her, and he just felt like spoiling someone. She was the lucky winner.
“I’ll be joining you, I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t eaten all day either.”
All of this was interesting and weird. Not, that she had a problem with that. Her books were just as interesting and weird. It was a part of her life that would never go away. Even if it filled her head with a bunch of weird things. She does, however, raise a brow at his statement. That wasn't what she'd expected.
"That's fine. You deserve to eat good food too and be able to sit down, relax a little. I mean you're the one making this stuff. You should be able to enjoy it."
“So tell me about yourself,” Daryl said between bites, so he could look at her and not have food in his mouth when he spoke. He wasn’t speaking any differently than he normally did, but maybe trying to annunciate a little more clearly.
“Are you from the OC? I’m a new arrival, just moved here from San Diego.”
"I was born and raised in the OC."
The food, so far, was pretty good. Even if it was just bread and soup for the moment. To be honest, she probably liked the bread a bit more than the soup itself. Even if both of them were pretty decent.
"My mom is one of California's socialites," she states with a bit of a shrug. Not that the woman was someone that she spoke about often, if at all. Hell, she preferred her nannies over her parents. Even her best friend knew that.
"Why the move to the OC?"
“That’s where corporate sent me, to open the new restaurant,” he told her. He was the head chef, but he didn’t own the chain. He went where he was told, which currently happened to be the OC. Which was fine with him. He was settling in, making friends, making connections.
Salads were brought out from the kitchen. “I arranged to have the rest of the food delivered to us,” he told her. It was easier that way, rather than getting up and going to the kitchen himself every time they needed something.
"Oh, so corporate sent you."
Her tone is a bit teasing, since she knows all about what corporate offices could or couldn't do. Not that she had to worry about that much, if at all. She wasn't afraid of being sent off anywhere. Not unless she left on her own. However, her best friend was in the OC. Which meant that she wasn't going anywhere.
"Means you don't have to keep leaving me alone to fend for myself."
“Pretty much, I am a corporate rat,” Daryl said with a hint of a smile. He loved what he did, though. Being a chef had been his dream since he was a child. He’d had a decent career, and he enjoyed his job, and the people he worked with. It was win/win in his book.
“What do you do for work?” he asked her. If she’d mentioned it during their conversation on the network, he didn’t remember.
"I'm sure my parents and nannies knew a few corporate rats, so I met a few growing up," Raven states shaking her head, but the smile was there. She honestly didn't care who her parents did or didn't know. Now, her nannies on the other hand, who they knew was more important.
"I'm a special interest writer for the local newspaper. I also write novels too. Nothing published yet, though."
Daryl couldn’t relate to being raised by nannies. It wasn’t something his family could afford. His older brother had more or less raised him, or he’d raised himself. Daryl could make a case either way.
“Are you wanting to be published?” he asked with a sincerity she couldn’t hear. Some people wrote just to write, others sought publication. He hated to think of her getting rejection letters, but that was of course part of the process. Very few, as far as he knew, published the first time they submitted something.
A lot of people couldn't relate to being raised by nannies. Just like her best friend. John couldn't relate to it, but her nannies loved him. So, at least he was used to them. In a manner of speaking. She gives Daryl a bit of a smile.
"I want to be published eventually," she tells him. "Right now, though, it's just a matter of finishing my book. Which contests with work a lot of the times. I do, however, tend to go out to places and do a bit of research. But, in time. I want to be."
“Then I’m sure you will be, in time.” She seemed to have the determination, he didn’t doubt that she achieved just about anything she set her mind to. Being a published author would surely happen for her, someday.
Before Daryl could say more, a tray of food was brought out from the kitchen and their meals were placed in front of them. He was eager to see how she liked the lobster; that was why she was here, after all.
"In time."
Even if she wasn't particularly worried about getting published just yet. That would come in time, once she had enough research. Though, if she knew what Daryl thought, then she'd probably flat out tell him he wasn't wrong. She'd always been a determined little thing growing up. It didn't matter what was put in front of her, if she enjoyed it... it got done.
When the food is brought out, her eyes widen a bit. "That's a lot." She's also not entirely sure how you were meant to even start in on the lobster. She, at least, knows you can’t eat the shell.
“Whatever you don’t eat will be boxed up for you to take home.” He’d show her how to eat the lobster. He had his own, after all. And she’d told him she’d never had it, so he knew she might need instruction. He felt it was worth it, lobster was one of the best meats in his opinion.