At that time, she had gone over the massive wine collection of the hotel on her own, and emerged from her hour-long search with several bottles: winners, all.  He had advised her that they all were truly remarkable choices, albeit unknown, and that her wine sense was unusually keen for a non-sommelier.  He would have had a difficult time himself, choosing between the wines she had pulled out, and he thought all were right on the money for the elegant French couple Bette was having dinner with.  In the end, she selected the one that turned out to be a rare bottle that the couple had long wanted to find, given that they had first tasted it during their honeymoon, and had not been able to find a bottle of it since.

As the sommelier promised, by the time Bette and Tina returned to the hotel, after their ride on the Ferris wheel, and descended to the cellar, they were greeted by a beautifully arranged interior, and a white-clothed table especially set out for them.  Ric had arranged for a special late meal to be served to them from the hotel’s in-house Michelin-starred restaurant.  A last bit of flourish was provided by the hotel’s artistic director, who was famous for setting trends in hotel décor not only in Paris, but elsewhere.  For their evening, he had transformed the cellar through elegant floral arrangements set up discretely in strategic areas of the cave, and had cast the room in soft romantic candlelight.

Bette’s question echoed in the quiet chamber.  They were alone, and the wait-staff had discretely cleared the table as they ended their meal; the operatic arias that had been playing in the background as they enjoyed their meal, feeding each other, had segued into the smooth sounds of 70’s R&B.

“Do I need one?,” Tina asked, more worried now.  She reached out to tuck loose tendrils behind Bette’s ear, which Bette took as a signal to draw her close again.  They held each other in a light embrace.  Hazel eyes locked into brown ones. Worried.  Waiting.

Bette was considering how to respond, when Tina asked again, “Do I, baby?”

“What would it be if you did?,” Bette answered, cryptically.

Tina thought for a second, and, although she was curious, decided to trust Bette had a reason for asking such a question.

She said with a smile, “Ok, how about carousel?”

Bette responded with a warm smile of her own, “Perfect. Carousel it is.”  Tina cocked her head to one side, raising her eyebrows with a silent question.  After a few more seconds of continued silence, it became clear Bette was not going to say anything more about it.  But Tina saw brown eyes remained steady and fixed on hers; she was relieved that the light of love there was undiminished.