Meeting the Lady (Marguerite)

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Danny, on a whim, had purchased tickets for the play, "The Wicked Lady." He had enjoyed watching the 1945 film and the 1983 remake. But plays were always the best. This story intrigued him - a lady with a life of crime. The very thought excited him a bit. It was a chilly evening, and he dressed in a dark suit and tie and wore a dark overcoat. He went hatless tonight. The theatre was not far from his penthouse on the 25th floor of a prestigious condominium building, so Danny walked as he usually did in Manhattan.

Arriving just as the lights were dimming, Danny made his way to his seat and settled in. Danny was highly entertained by the play. But slowly his focus came to light on the main character of Barbara. The actress was beautiful in his estimation, exceptionally beautiful. Her voice entranced him, a slightly British sounding voice with a hint of French. He wished he had looked to see who was playing the part. He was simply entranced with her.

At the intermission when the lights went on, Danny put on his spectacles and looked at the programme to see who was playing the title role. It was a woman named Marguerite Saint-Just. Her bio stated her birthplace as Milon la Chapelle, France. He was correct; she was French! Her age was stated as 32 and she had quite an impressive list of acting credits to her name. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Danny, but he didn't keep up with the gossip about actors and actresses and the music scene and so on. He generally didn't watch television either, thinking that most of it was quite below him. American television rarely had any worthwhile programmes, at least in his opinion. He watched public television and some of the channels providing history and documentaries and BBC programmes. But still, the telly was rarely on at Danny's home.

In any case, Danny was quite taken with the actress. In the programme photo, it looked as if her hair were quite long. She was incredibly beautiful. The lights dimmed again and Danny put away the programne and his specs. When she came on stage, again he was entranced, and hardly saw any of the other actors or actresses and much of the action and story line were lost on him as he focused on Miss Saint-Just.

The play finished and a standing ovation took place. During the midst of the ovation, Danny crept outside to the door where the actors and actresses normally left the theatre and the place where fans often gathered to ask for autographs and to personally say a word of congratulations to the players on their performances.

There was already a small crowd of people waiting, and more gathered as the theatre emptied. Danny didn't push to be in the front, that's not what he had in mind. He waited near the back of the crowd until the players exited. He had to wait for quite some time while the crowed cleared. When there was no one else there, he spoke to Miss Saint-Just.

His voice was soft and he smiled. "May I congratulate you on a most wonderful and enjoyable performance." He held out his programme. "Your autograph would be a lovely remembrance of a stellar performance." As she handed it back, he caught her hand and kissed it. "I should introduce myself. My name is Daniel Lenoir. Might I invite you for a drink or a bit of food? I know you must be famished, I am sure. I would be sorely disappointed if you turn me down..."

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

Tonight... was a good show! The problems were small and not noticed at all. Even the small wardrobe malfunction that a fellow cast member had to deal with. All in all, it was still a good night! She tried not to let the issues get to her in any way so it wouldn't ruin her attitude or the night.
After Curtain Call, she changed quickly from the costumes to modern civvies. Not sure what her plans for tonight, she thought about meeting up with one of her co-stars to hang out or better yet... just go home and relax!
Yup.. the latter sounded better. At least there she could relax by the fireplace with a glass of champagne listen to some music, check fan mail or other mail or maybe.. a nice long soak in the tub! Oh, now .. THAT... sounded perfect!

Leaving her Dressing Room and to the stage door where she - as usual - found a large number of people waiting. Some already were greeting her co-stars and getting their autographs and photos. She was next apparently. But that didn't bother her any! She was more than used to it and actually took delight in it. After all, they took time out of their day to come see her and her co-stars perform for them, she could at least reciprocate the favor and show them they were appreciated in like.
Dressed in a nice gray fashionable ensemble of a tank top, mini skirt, lengthy drape cardigan with long sleeves - loose on top, but tight on the forearms and over the wrist to cover half of her hand - charcoal gray tights and fashionable high heel of two shades. Her lengthy brunette hair in smooth waves that cascaded all around her, over her shoulders and down her back reaching just a little past her waist. Always fashionable in makeup, clothes, and her hair. After all, she was once a fashion model!

Little by little, the fans thinned out and now... she was nearly free to go about her own way. That is, until a gentleman approached her with best wishes and praise. Naturally, she delighted in such fine words of appreciation. Grinning back at the slightly taller man, barely a singular nod and her soft French accent, "Merci. Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed the performance." Glancing down to see the program offered to her, oh how could she resist?! With her felt tip pen in hand, she turned to her bio in the playbill, "and... who am I signing this to?" so she could autographed it properly to the right person whom ever it was to be gifted to or if it was for this man anyways. She still wanted to put some form of personal note in it to the fan.

She signed it, "To Daniel, with love. Merci and glad you enjoyed the Wicked Lady! All the best, M" then sighed on the outside of his program her name in a wild scribble that was so very elegant 'Marguerite Saint-Just'.
Putting the pen back at the same time she handed the program back to him and he caught her attention if not slightly off guard by kissing her hand. Not that it hadn't happened before, most likely won't be the last.
His accent sort of caught her attention as her brows rose. He was a charming gentleman but was a bit thrown off by his invitation. A little snicker, "I'm sure you know my name by now but I shall say it any way... Marguerite Saint-Just. A pleasure to meet you, Daniel Lenoir." Naturally she was courteous and charming, witty and alluring. "I don't usually patronize with attendees, Monsieur Lenoir and I try not to make it a habit," She did not say no but she did not quite say yes. She thought about it though and opened her mouth prepared to decline but he was rather witty in return. How could she say no? Well, she could. But if he asked again, she had no choice but to join him.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

She didn't say no, but she didn't say yes. Danny had to take the chance of asking again, hoping she wouldn't turn him down. All he wanted was some time with her so she could get to know him, and learn how very nice he really was. At the moment, he seemed to have caught her attention and he had to say something. Sometimes his voice caught and his mouth became dry. But, because he wasn't dwelling on himself and his own feelings, but rather on Miss Saint-Just and concentrating on his powers of persuasion, he appeared to be quite self-confident and very "normal." He was always afraid in situations like this that he would be perceived as "mad."

"I would be terribly pleased if you would join me for something to eat or drink. There is a lovely little café only a short distance away. The night in New York is quite splendid. The streets are never deserted." He glanced down at her feet. She was wearing high heels, two toned, to match her grey ensemble. The whole effect was quite lovely, Danny thought. The short dress showed off her shapely legs. "I see you are wearing shoes with high heels. Will you be able to walk in those shoes or shall I call a taxi?"

Danny's thoughts were racing far ahead. He was thinking about how lovely it would be dating this beautiful lady, having her all to himself. But he didn't even think about any of the consequences. She was a celebrity and surely there would be paparazzi just waiting to snap photos of this beautiful celebrity ... and Danny, if he were to spend any amount of time with her. And the last thing he wanted was his picture plastered all over People Magazine as "Marguerite's latest beau" or on the internet on the Celebrity Wall or on the celebrity gossip shows on the telly. The man who wanted to hide in anonymity and shadows and wanted no one to give him a second glance, would be in "hot water" if anyone really dug into his past. But it didn't even occur to Danny that this could happen. At the moment he was quite wrapped up and obsessed with the lovely lady.

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

Ahhh... he did ask again. Apparently he was determined to have a moment with her. Of course, who wouldn't?! But if she agreed to every man, even some women, who asked her to join them or out on a date, anything for a little bit of time with her, she would never have time for herself OR her career. She pondered briefly and hard over this situation, over this invitation.

At that moment, one of her co-stars approached from behind, stepping sideways, inquiring if she was good, about going to a hot spot that most of them enjoyed hanging out at for a brief time before calling it a night - since generally it was a way to wind down after all the excitement and adrenaline of the show - her hand touched her co-star's forearm as his hand was upon her upper arm, she smiled at him, a slight shake of her head that caused her lengthy brunette waves to ripple in perfect unison to her movements, "No. I am fine. Merci, thank you," which had become her little thing now to say her thanks twice in two languages.
"Shall see you tomorrow night, then," her co-star stated as he smiled at Danny then departed from them after giving her a peck upon the cheek and congratulating her on the evening's performance.
"Oui, tomorrow evening," She smiled. "Good night," Then turned her attention back to Danny.

On a whim, she decided-
"Alright," and nodded her head once gracefully, "You are very convincing, Monsieur Lenoir," she purred in her gentle French accent. Life was meant to be enjoyed, and despite this was generally against her protocols, she would bend them a little to be a little carefree. However, if this man attempted anything, well, he will no doubt pay the ultimate price considering how high profile she is, he wouldn't get away with anything!
"Very well. I shall join you this evening for dinner."

Glancing down at her shoes and snickered sweetly, "No. No. I am fine. A walk will do me some good," even though this was not out in the country where the air was cleaner, it would still be nice. Waving her hand again as she shook her head again, "I will be fine. I can walk," confirming with the sprightly French voice and snickered again. "If I can walk upon the catwalk with seven inch platform shoes, I can most assuredly walk upon New York streets in stilettos." Giving him a bright, bold grin.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

She seemed to be thinking it over. Danny was sure he would be turned down even though he had taken care to be extremely polite. Politeness came easily to Danny and women seemed to be impressed by a polite fellow. But Marguerite was taking a rather long time to make up her mind. Then a man came up to her and asked if she were all right. Danny didn't recognize the man immediately. He had been concentrating on watching Marguerite exclusively and had hardly noticed anyone else. But then he realized it was her co-star, the male lead in the play. Danny tried not to frown. He tried to appear pleasant.

But then, to his surprise, the actress told the man that she was fine and would see him the next night. Danny searched his memory for anything he may have read in the program bio notes about Miss Saint-Just...was she married? No, it didn't mention that. But was this fellow a suitor or boyfriend? He hoped not. Then Marguerite actually turned back to Danny and started speaking in her wonderful French-tinged accent. She told him how persuasive he was. Danny drank in the compliment and smiled. He wanted to compliment her, but couldn't think of the correct word to describe her. There were so many, beautiful, exquisite, talented, amazing...he could go on all evening. And yet he had said nothing. Finally his voice came back and he said, "Dinner. Oh, that is lovely! I am quite delighted to share a meal with you." He was ecstatic. He had only hoped for a cup of tea or a small sandwich. Dinner was wonderful...they would have a bit of time to learn about each other. Of course, with Danny, it would only be the things he wished her to know of him.

Danny wondered how she could walk in those stiletto heels, quite an amazing feat. He grinned when she said she could walk on the catwalk with them. "Really? I would think it's quite a trick to walk in them in normal circumstances, let alone with many people staring at you from all directions..." The smile faded from his face for just a moment as he thought of the frightening aspect of being the centre of attention. But he smiled again as he said, "For a moment I thought you were going to say they sent you up above the stage to adjust the lighting on the catwalk in your stilettos. But surely, you must mean the catwalk used for modeling." He laughed a little self-consciously. That sounded rather idiotic. Why did he let those silly stray thoughts come out of his mouth? He tried to rectify it by complimenting her again, and it was a sincere compliment. "I did love seeing you in the play and I am sure I would enjoy seeing you model beautiful clothing. I am sure there is nothing that they can design which would not become splendid the moment you would clothe yourself in it..."

They started to walk up the street. The café was only a couple of blocks away from the theatre and they soon reached it. Danny held the door open for the woman who was becoming the apple of his eye...

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

The more Danny spoke the more she was mighty amused with him. It was apparent to her from his fumbling of thoughts and words so to speak that he had developed a crush for her. Well, was it her, or her character? Most people did not know her really. They only saw the public side of her. And those few who did get to know her personally... well... again, they were few and far between. However, she always put on a show, be it on stage or film, or at one of her social gatherings.

A smile spread upon her painted lips hearing he was delighted dining with her. It would be nice to have company and this gentleman seemed rather... intriguing. It was not unlike herself to do spontaneous things like this. It was rare but it does happen. Something about him that told her to at least indulge in his fantasy... at least for one night.

"Oh, Oui! Yes! There is a trick to walking in whatever they put you in. Takes a toll upon a body. But... we do it nevertheless," she smiled as always with those sparkling mismatched eyes as they shifted down to her purse, to deal with her mobile device and a tablet. This time, she would keep them silent for the sake to not be rude. "But, the multiple eyes... does not bother me, Monsieur. In fact, I adore it. Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing what I love to do, oui?" Grinning once again.
Then she chuckled at the catwalk mix-up. That was very amusing and it showed upon her visage. "That would be a challenge, wouldn't it? Walking high-" motioning towards the sky as she looked up in unison with the hand gesture, "aloft in high heels?" and snickered again, amused at the mental image that Danny had placed into her head.

His praise was still welcome and he continued on, about the modelling and she snickered. It was very evident to her that he was just befuddle to be in her presence now. What man had not developed a crush upon her? After all, she was one of the sexiest women in the world!
"Merci, Monsieur Lenoir, for the fashionable compliment," and barely snickered, amused that he was just crushing on her. By now, she was very used to it. After all, he was nearly the twelfth millionth man to have a crush upon her complimenting her with bumbling words of praise and affection!

Walking with her latest patron to this café, observing and keeping a careful eye out to say the least of the annoying paparazzi.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the play, Monsieur Lenoir. Are you a patron of Broadway? Are there any shows you prefer more than others?" Curious to know what people think of her show and her performance and of course, what they think of Broadway. Many a young girl or boy has dreamed of performing on Broadway, if not in Hollywood.
Once they arrived she strode through the door he held open, thanked him politely with a "Merci" and a smile, then glanced around. This was one place she has not been to yet. There was so much in NYC she had yet to experience. It was a massive city, not unlike Paris or London. She she always liked to experience the places she lived in.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Marguerite spoke about a trick to walking in high heels. "I can imagine. The heels look quite lovely, makes the feminine foot and leg very long and thin. Quite attractive." He smiled. "I've done a bit of painting, so I notice things like that." She spoke of how people looking at her did not bother her, for she loved being in the public eye. "I am afraid I don't share your love of people staring at you. It ... well... I don't like it." What he really meant is that it frightened the hell out of him, thinking of getting up on a stage. He would probably melt onto the stage after making an idiot of himself trying to make a complete sentence to speak in front of a large group of people. It was hard enough to make his presentations at the firm. He managed only because it was a controlled environment, and very few people were ever in attendance at any one time. Even so, Erik often felt panic, but he was usually able to carry on after a few deep breaths.

Marguerite seemed to think Danny's ridiculous comment about the stage catwalk to be amusing. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least she didn't think him an idiot. Or he hoped so, in any case. And she thanked him for his compliments. At that, he grinned and blushed just the slightest amount. Not even enough to see that it was on one side of his face only.

"I did indeed enjoy your play. You are amazingly perfect for the part. Although, I must speculate that, although I have not seen you in anything else, I expect that you would be wonderful in any role you would take." He paused. "Am I a patron of Broadway? Why yes, I am," he answered. "Although not all of them are of the same quality. Some are very good, I would almost say masterpieces. Others are badly written, the story is negligible, the jokes trite and the music quite atrocious. But by and large, they are most enjoyable. Not opera, mind you, but a good entertainment. As for preference on Broadway shows, yes, I do have a few favourites. And a few that are quite the opposite." Danny of course was thinking of Phantom of the Opera, the show based on the book that Leroux had written about Danny's ancestor...

Holding the door for Marguerite, Danny entered the café after her. He told the server that he wished a table for two and in a quiet area. It was really more than just a café, the place featured some quite expensive entrées and lovely meals. One could have wine served with the meals.

Once they were seated, Danny and Marguerite were handed menus. The place was a bit dark and Danny pulled out his spectacles. He looked younger than his 45 years, but his eyes hadn't held up their part of the bargain, therefore the reading specs. When he had made his choice, he closed the menu and gazed at Marguerite. Even in the half-dark, there was something intriguing about her eyes. He pulled off the specs to see her better across the table. "Your eyes are beautiful, Miss Saint-Just. I see they are two different, but complementary colours. Quite exotic. And quite lovely." He smiled, thinking about his ancestor, who also had heterochromia iridis. In Danny's ancestor though, it was quite weird looking...

"Are you ready to order, Miss Saint-Just?" asked Danny with a smile as he put away his specs in his inner jacket pocket.

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

This Daniel Lenoir whom was the last fan to meet after this evening's performance was indeed... charming. Amused to say the least about his analysis of high heel footwear accentuating the woman's leg and foot... well, he was correct! She simply smiled and one could have sworn a blush warming her face but no. She was rather amused he spoke of it like some of the gentlemen fashion designers whom she knew. With a couple of nods, "So I understand as well, how flattering a good shoe does to a woman," glancing sideways at Danny with a rather sexy smirk and glimmer in her eyes.
But her attention shifted quickly with raised brows, innocent curiosity and interest, straightening and generally drawing herself out of that sultry second stance. "Oh, you paint?"

Then once again another shift, once again amused as she snickered. She took it in two different ways, that it was focused upon him... or focused upon her. "Each to their own," glancing at him, he shouldn't have to worry about her at all. That's just the hazard of her profession. Something her former boyfriends didn't like either, wanted to control her and...well, luckily for her, her contracts and companies backed her up to separate from them. Break ups were rarely troublesome of traumatic.

Beaming with pride as he praised her for the role of Barbara Worth. She soaked in the adoration as though it was the only thing that gave her life. One would think it made her arrogant, but to her it was humbling that someone would think so highly of her and would come to see her perform for them. It was not just for herself, but for others. She recently realized that every show or film she's done had some form of moral or message to it. A character who braved the odds to better humanity. That made her feel good and no doubt her parents would have been very proud of her.
"Well, you should see some more of my performances and movies," oh, so dangerous of her to spur him on with suggestion! But then again, he could become a fan. She adored her fans almost as much as she adored her brother.
Another few nods as he confirmed he was a patron of Broadway. No doubt his thoughts would be a valuable one. Broadway was different than West End, and both different than the Paris theater scene. All were different from film! Her curiosity and input from others bewildered many as she listened but often seemed that she didn't care and it was wasted words. But... she listened and weighed the opinions of others carefully to see if it was valid, could be utilized, or simply fodder to be tossed away. All .. just like a game of mental chess. "I'd be delighted to hear your further thoughts on the subject, Monsieur Lenoir," smiling at him.
Then looked forward with a nostalgic gaze, "Ahhh, the Opera." Pausing a moment as she reminisced, "It's been a while, but I did enjoy it." Looking at him once again with a Mona Lisa smile, "I understand there is a good Opera here in New York."

She appreciated his Gentlemanly charms and courtesy, it's what kept her so interested in this new fan of hers. Few men truly charmed her.
Seated and looking over the menu for a moment, she decided and would wait for the server, just as he mentioned... her eyes!
Looking up at Danny, rather baffled a moment. He liked them?!? Most people found them odd or awkward, too few people liked the different colored eyes until recently when she decided not to hide the fact they were two different colors any more. A smile grew upon her lips as a slight blush rose to her cheeks and glanced down. "Merci," she said softly. "Oui, they are ... two different colors," she continued to speak softly just enough for him to hear. "One is greenish the other a softer brown," Then looked down at the menu she had just folded back up and laid down, "No many point that out nor notice. Or... want to notice. I had to hide them for years because having two different colored eyes were frowned upon." But again, offered another Mona Lisa smile. She did like the fact he liked her eyes. Even though her former beaus noticed the two different eyes, they never mentioned it or if they did, never complimented so swiftly with adoration like this gentleman.

Ahhh, the server approached and she nodded to Danny's inquiry," Oui," then gave the server her order - typically something ethnic or typical to French meals.

Once she ordered and now waited for the food and wine, she pondered and couldn't help herself from watching Danny. "You are British, aren't you?" He had a bit of an accent and she could tell. Now her curiosity chimed in as she planted her elbows upon the table with her head cupped nicely in the palms of her hand as she gazed back at Lenoir. It was like a poker game, trying to figure out the other person if they were bluffing or telling the truth.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Danny had been sure that Marguerite would date him this first time. He knew he could be charming and most women fell for that. He had carefully gone over his words. It was what came after that at which he faltered . He invariably said something that the woman understood in a wrong sense and his relationships usually only lasted a few months. He must learn what it was that irritated women about him. He really had no idea. However, things were going rather well tonight. Marguerite seemed to like him. He was elated. Even though he had said a few things that were less than brilliant.

She asked him if he painted. He grinned. "Yeah. I dabble a bit. Actually, I'm quite good."

Danny smiled eagerly when Marguerite spoke of her other performances and movies. "Pardon my ignorance, but you shall have to tell me what they are; I do not frequent films often and other performances. I carefully choose my entertainments, for if I dislike something terribly, it would not be our of character for me to write a scathing letter to the theatre, the producers and anyone else involved. " He laughed. "Or perhaps, I might just walk out and have done with the whole thing." After he had said it, he wondered if it had been a wise thing to say to an actress. If he made it through this first date, it would be a miracle...what the hell made him babble on so?

Then she asked about the Broadway shows. "They are of uneven quality in my opinion. If the story and acting are good, the dancers are worth their weight and if the musical composers do not take themselves too seriously, the shows can be quite good. Unfortunately, I often compare any type of music to its betters, opera and classical music...which is rather unfair. I must realize that there are more types of music and that other people enjoy the lesser music. Not everyone is musically educated. And so when I remember that, I can enjoy it unless it is horrendously dissonant or some atrocious modern exercise, to see which of them can make the audience deaf first. One does not normally see this in Broadway, I am not speaking of that for the most part, it is more common in things like rock concerts." He smiled. "How they have the chutzpah to call it a concert..." Danny did not realize he sounded like a terrible snob...

In answer to her question about the Opera in New York, he brightened considerably. "Yes, yes, there is a wonderful opera here in New York. I enjoy it very much and frequent it very often."

When he became interested in her eyes and she spoke of them, he smiled and kept gazing at them for a moment. "They are quite enchanting..."

Danny gave the server his order and made sure they had a fine vintage of wine in stock. He didn't want his French lady to think less of his adopted city based on choice of wine.

Then she asked him if he were British. He laughed. "So you found me out. I thought I sounded like a proper Yank by now, because I've been here so long. And yes, New York is my adopted home. I'm an American citizen now......in addition to retaining my British citizenship. Could never give that up. You have a good ear for accents. Yours is lovely, by the way..." he said, with a grin.

Then she put her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her palms. He kept looking at her a bit askance. When he had done that as a child, his Mum had tried to instill proper manners in him. She would say, "Were ye brought up in a barn now, Daniel? Take the elbows off the table." He would, but then cheekily answer her back, "I didn't think you served me at table in the barn, Mum. And where is a barn in the heart of London?" She would laugh and say, "Watch your mouth, lad or it'll be washing your mouth with a bit of soap..." Surely a fine lady like this would know that elbows on the table were very bad manners. He pointed to his own elbows to remind her to remove them. He wondered if Mum would approve of this lady, not that he was about to listen to her on that point...

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

Never did that Mona Lisa smile leave her face as she studied Danny, not quite intensely, but enough to keep him in view and to satisfy her curiosity. She was an unconventional Actress to say the least. Often doing her own thing after people generally controlled her life. Life was too short and precious to sit on the sidelines. Plus she was not an innocent woman by any means, so she occasionally would be rather bold, sometimes precocious. But always kept her wits about her. "I'm curious to see some of your work then, Monsieur Lenoir," wondering how long he will enjoy saying his name properly and in French. Most men liked her accent, it was a trace of finery and seduction yet not quite Marilyn Monroe. Thank God. She wasn't the sort to really sound like some dripping Sex Goddess, even though many magazines around the world classified her as one. "If.. you don't mind." Attempting to look innocent as though she had overextended her boundaries. Hopefully though, it would lead to an open invitation. Yes, ok, so perhaps she could be a... little... manipulative.

Again the charming smile that could disarm a madman, and barely a delightful snicker, "The perhaps I should give you a personal copy of my two favorite film I was in," as she gazed back at him with a coy grin.
Then another playful pout, "When then... I hope you do not write a disdainful letter to me about my performances." Once again a coy grin that became a snicker, "Are you sure you are not a Critic?" And grinned with a glimmer in her eyes.

Nodding all the while she listened to him go on more about the Broadway shows. It was actually good to hear from some patron of Broadway what captured one's interest. It most likely will help her decide future shows. Maybe. Of course, she could simply just do them anyways, not caring what people think or say.
"A person interested in one particular subject often is the worst critic to anything. In your case, music. Of which, you are not alone in your opinions. I've heard the same thing from many other Composers who criticize one another. Namely for one of two reasons - primarily because of jealousy," knowing that her voiced statement might very well annoy him. "The other... ignorance. I simply say... enjoy!" And grinned back at Danny as she gestured in an elegant sweep when she said 'enjoy'.
"Oui," while nodding, "a variety of music that one can enjoy. As varied as their are individuals on this planet." continuing to snicker as he voice his opinion about other people's tastes in music.

Luckily, the subject turned more delightful to Opera. She seemed to brighten up with a smile, "I shall have to attend it when ever I have an open opportunity. I have heard some glorious things about the Metropolitan Opera." Ahh, there it was! Another coy grin!

Oh! Well, look there! A blush! Now why on earth would she blush?!? She never really blushed when others have pointed out her mismatched eyes. Even her former beaus never made her feel enchanted, most people seemed rather... drab about the color difference. But Danny... he made her feel like her eyes was the rarest jewel in the world! Not just once did he praise her for the eyes, but a few charming compliments! He seemed... enthralled... by her eyes!
Ahh, yes... she was definitely blushing!

Found him out? This made her snicker. It was quite obvious he was from England. Most would have a harder time of it, however, she spent some time in England, primarily London, so she picked up on his accent. "Dare I ask how long you've been here?" Again, her curiosity striking her, wondering what drew him from his home to another country. "How ever do you manage?" She wasn't oblivious to the past, knowing full well that the French Government at the time assisted the British Colonies in gaining their freedom. And here... was a man with duel Citizenships that objected one another, and she from a formal rival country. This was now quite amusing!
Ahhh, again... those charming compliments. And she soaked them up like a dry sponge in water!

Her hand flipped over to where her chin rested atop the back of her hand, she was deeply studying this gentleman, curious about him. Granted he was 'a fan' or so she determined, but then again, he didn't seem like one. Perhaps he wasn't. Since he wasn't ranting and raving about her work. He simply stated general conversational chit chat, compliments, exuding his charm... no, he was no mere narrow minded fan, he was a developed mind that aroused her desires and curiosity.
Well, that is until he was being subtle with snobbish manners. Raising her brows as he motioned to his elbows. "Is there a problem, Monsieur?" Watching him, she was by no means daft, but curious to see his continued reactions of her 'bad manners'. She knew putting elbows on the table was not perfect manners but... there was no food on the table. At least not yet. She snickered briefly, and closed her eyes with a smile before she sat up straight, "You are intriguing, Monsieur Lenoir." Pausing a moment. "You are British... with American Citizenship. And yet... you have a French surname. Most curious," her eyes were intensely gazing back at him as one arm draped over the other just under her breasts as she leaned forward slightly with a highly interested gaze in those mismatched eyes, her arms not quite upon the table, but rested against the edge of the table. She was studying him once again, a bit more intensely now.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

"You'd like to see my paintings?" he asked, taking pains to try to look surprised. Danny was truly shy in a lot of ways, but he could be bold and self-serving at times. He, of course, had opened the way for Marguerite to ask the question, hoping she would. "I have sold some of my paintings and unfortunately, at the present time, I don't have anything in a gallery, but I am looking into another show soon. However, in the meantime, I have some completed pieces at my apartment, if you would care to see them ... at some time...perhaps in the future....the near future? Only if you have time, of course..." He smiled. She was interested! This was good, very good indeed.

She offered to give him a copy of her two favouite films in which she had starred. And her personal copies... Danny grinned. It appeared that she did like him... "I shall be eager to watch them, Miss Saint-Just," he said as he gave her his prize-winning smile. Then she mentioned that she hoped he would not write a scathing letter concerning her performances... "Oh certainly not, I cannot even imagine that you could perform badly in anything.... Sometimes the writers don't give the players much to go on, but I am quite sure that you would make any part wonderful and make it your own." He paused to listen to her next question. "No, no, I'm not a critic, not a professional one, that is. I do know what I like and what I like is perfection in any of the fine arts and performing arts. People would do well to listen to my opinions." He matched her grin. She was so engaging...and she didn't seem to be put off by his strong opinions.

Danny started to laugh when she mentioned jealousy between composers. "Good heavens, no. I am not jealous of anyone. When one is the best in his field, certainly there is no cause to be jealous of lesser composers. I am sure they all have their place in the pantheon of musical tastes. I only criticize bad music and compositions. As I said, I can enjoy the lesser forms of music if they are done well within their own realm. Oh and I am not only interested in one subject. I have a great many interests."

"T he Met is indeed one of the best in the world. I would be delighted to take you ...some time...should you....care to...go with...me...." Danny said his words carefully. If he upset her by coming on too strong, she may be annoyed. He had forgotten that she was a famous actress and he should rather be in awe of her. Of course, considering the esteem in which he held himself, it was difficult to remember that.

He caught a tiny tinge of a blush upon her cheeks. He smiled. She was so pretty, so exquisitely beautiful, and the blush upon her cheeks only enhanced her beauty. "Oh would that I had my camera with me to capture forever that lovely glance, that lovely blush upon your cheek," he said, as he reached across and gently held her chin a moment in his finger tips.

"How long have I been here? I came to New York twenty years ago. I can't believe it's been that long. Time has a way of marching on while you're not looking." He smiled. He definitely looked younger than 45 years old, but the little crinkles beginning about his eyes and lines on his forehead gave it away.

He decided to let the elbow "thing" go. It wasn't worth arguing about. Perhaps if he became good friends with her, he would tease her about it some time, but this wasn't the time. He drew in a breath and smiled again.

After a pause, Marguerite asked Danny about his surname, noticing of course that it was French. Danny smiled. "I have a French ancestor. He lived in Paris in the Victorian era and into the early twentieth century. My great-grandfather. He married late in life. His son, my grandfather, emigrated to England and we were there ever since...until I came here. We all have our reasons for moving..." Erik the Second moved to England because he wished to get away from his father's bad reputation as the possibly murderous Opera Ghost at the Populaire. Danny left England to get away from his own past as a mental patient.....but that seemed to follow him wherever he went....

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

Most people wanted to paint and be an artist so she wasn't always so overly impressed, but she would be a little gracious and attentive so as not to be rude. Rarely did she ever see anyone with real talent.
A little nod while she thought, "Perhaps I will someday," was her answer to him. And maybe it wasn't a fib but some truth to that. If he really was planning an art show at some gallery, she no doubt will go see it.

Now she simply should see his artwork since she offered her own copies of her 'artwork' as well. It would only be fair. A smile spread upon her face glad that he was eager to see her favorite films.
Then a snicker. Ahh, but she's been involved in a bad performance. She learned from it. Well, had lots of bad shows, not related to film or stage though. Either way, it was possible. "It does happen," she simply told him.
Still keeping that smile upon her face, "well those are the toughest 'critics', the audience members who know what they like," she smirked at him with a wink and could have kicked herself for having done that.

A snicker escaped her a denial of jealousy. "I see. It's only bad music when one does not like it," she said while gazing back at him with that constant smile. "Is that so? Such as... what interests you most?" As usual, a lot of gesturing with her hands, a momentary settling of her elbows on the edge of the table before removing them. Her interest was intensely upon him. So far, he was providing some intellectual amusement.

Removing the elbows from the table as she sat straight, watching him with a slight Mona Lisa smile. She was not debating his invitation. Then a smirk appeared upon her lips, "Perhaps... if my busy schedule allows." But would that really happen?!? She didn't want to make commitments that she was unable to keep. And this... was just some chance meet with some new fan. No, most likely it won't happen.

He was being charming to say the least. At least he wasn't dull. Well, that could still change. He could turn into an absolute bore soon enough. She barely smirked with sheepish delight over his fancy of her blushing. That is... until his fingertips touched her chin. Her mismatched eyes shot up to lock upon his brown ones and in a moment, she was breathless. The smile was gone but in it's place, her visage betrayed a sort of... wonder. A strange bliss that seemed to cause time and space to disappear.
She was nearly speechless. "A captive for your private pleasure?" she said softly, just barely above a whisper. She felt almost captivated by him. He was bold, clever, ... and handsome at that. Daring to force herself not to think this more than a chance meeting. But now he was spurring her something a little more.

Slightly raising her brows, "Twenty?" rather stunned. She began to wonder how old he was! "You must know New York City like the back of your hand by now then, hmm?" As the wine came and was poured. She took the glass, still reflecting upon the sensation of his touch upon her chin. Taking a drink, and knowing full well that it wasn't the alcohol that was warming her skin, but him!
"I agree," as she set the glass down. "Sometimes we forget."

Now her interest continued to peak about his ancestor. A few slow nods as she listened to his explanation, all with childlike curiosity. "Have you ever had any desire to return? To England? Or France?" Then picked up the glass again, "I'm sure those reasons can also make a person return, too." Taking a drink, looking down her glass at him as she took a sip of the fine wine.
He intrigued her... heavily intrigued her. Frankly at this point, she wouldn't mind a one night stand with him.

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

Marguerite coyly said she would indeed like to see his paintings. He smiled when she mentioned audience critics. "I suppose I would be considered one of those...and yes, I do know what I like. Perhaps I should write critic's columns on the internet news somewhere, but I don't think I'd like the negative comments I would undoubtedly receive.. I truly hate it when ignorant people write rude comments, mostly about something on which they have no business commenting on..." He paused, thinking he had better clarify. "What I mean is that people with little or no knowledge of the subject at hand can be quite ruthless in their cutting comments. I have read such rude rants and I fear I would be quite beside myself reading such things, were they directed at me." She winked at him and he was not sure exactly what it was for, but he definitely liked it.

Marguerite snickered, a small laugh that Danny considered a bit rude. "No, you misunderstand, Miss Saint-Just. I know what good music is and many people are not educated in that way." Danny had tried, when calling the classic rock station at which Siobhan Shaw worked, to expose some of her listeners to some proper music, but had only succeeded partially, for she only played a few small selections.

Danny liked Marguerite's small smile. Not a full smile, just a partial one....as if she were amused and only smiling to herself. She left his vague offer to take her to the Met quite as open ended as he had in the asking of it. This was fine. He would approach her later about it, when they knew each other better. He had no doubt in his mind that they would become close friends. And hopefully more than that. He smiled as these thoughts ran through his mind. He was delighted that she showed interest in opera and good music.

When he spoke of capturing the look on her face, her beauty, in a photograph, she said, A captive for your private pleasure?. This was a bit too close to his private thoughts. Now it was his turn to blush. Of course only his left cheek blushed, the other deformed one was covered by the false skin which could not perspire or blush, although in general it looked quite natural. He often had fantasies of kidnapping women, as he had heard his ancestor had done. It was the ultimate fantasy for Danny. A beautiful woman, no other distractions, she would have to fall in love with Danny.... He would cater to her every need, bringing her lovely things, exquisite food and drink, beautiful clothing and jewellery, how could she fail to fall in love with him? She would see how talented he was and how well he could provide for her.... Danny came back to reality rather suddenly as the server said, "Did you want your soup with your meal or before?" Danny looked up at him and said, "Yes...um...before ... that should be fine..." The waiter brought the soup and set it before them.

She seemed amazed that he had been in New York for twenty years. He smiled. She must think he looked younger than he was. "I do rather know my way about Manhattan. I've travelled a bit in the States on occasion, but Manhattan has become home." He took a sip of his wine and began to eat the soup. "Oh very good. I do like the French onion. What about yourself?"

She asked about going back to England. "Of course. I have gone back to England. I love England. I visit Mum and Dad once a year at least, if not more." Sometimes, as much as he loved New York and as much as it was his home, he wished that he had not needed to leave London... "France? Yes, I've travelled there, but have no particular ties to it. Paris is lovely, as are many other French cities." Danny wondered what he would do if Marguerite asked questions about why he had left England...There was no way he could tell her the truth...

[MARGUERITE SAINT-JUST]

Truly amused with Danny's intriguing comments on the subject of Critics. She was not one to fancy them either but she had to listen to them, read their degrading comments often, even if they hurt. By now, it helped to build character, even though the words still hurt from time to time.
"Even people with knowledge can be even more dangerous, if not unruly." Pausing a moment, "Or if you would write a critique, could you restrain yourself from such rude words towards someone's career?"

Slightly raising her brows as Danny sounded rather... haughty, to say the least! "So... if I enjoy listening to Celine Dion, does that make me... ill educated or have poor taste in music?" He threw down the intellectual gauntlet and she was more than willing to accept it!

The difference in his facial coloring, the blush on one side of his face and not on the other, did not go unnoticed. However, she thought nothing more of it. Though she was quite amused to his reaction nevertheless.

"Certainly there is something that drew you to stay here?" As she took to her soup, as dainty as one could be. Awaiting his reply.
Then she smirked, "Oui. Of course." And smiled back at Danny as she took another dainty spoon full and enjoyed her soup.

She was curious about his return home and missing home. But the mention of his parents seemed to pain her a little, and she did her best to hide it by diverting her eyes from him, enjoying more soup and a drink of the wine. "You must miss them? Your parents," he was lucky his parents were still alive. She never understood why he only visited them once a year though. "Life is so short, why only see them once a year?"
So he had been to France before. How interesting! Would he wish to return to it? And no ties? Ahhh... certainly he had to have ties to France since his surname was French. "Not even a bit of curiosity as to where your family line came from?" No doubt that wasn't the best way to utilize English words, but... her mind now raced with curiosity as to his family history. How often does one find a Gentleman such as Danny with French ancestry? So far, this Gentleman was more than intriguing... he was enticing!

[ERIK DANIEL LENOIR]

If you would write a critique, could you restrain yourself from such rude words towards someone's career? asked the lady. Danny wasn't sure what to say. "I would not wish to ruin someone's career by careless, rude words, but, if someone is so bad at what they do and my words would send them off looking for something at which they were infinitely more suited, would that not be rendering them a good turn?" From Danny's point of view, it would be completely the correct thing to do.

Marguerite sounded a bit piqued at Danny for his comment about the differing types of music. "I did not say that other types of music have no merit. If they offer one a bit of pleasure, there is certainly nothing wrong with that. But just as the computer games that I write are nothing more than bits of fluff written only to make me a bit of money and to offer a small diversion for those who play them, so are the lesser types of music only a small diversion. I compose the music for my games and do not consider them more than silly entertainments." He looked at her and smiled. "I could never consider you ill educated. You speak well and have a wonderful talent. I am sure that there are many other things that you do that we have not even touched upon. "

Then she spoke of why he was drawn to New York and why he wished to stay there. And why he didn't wish to return to London more often. "I said, I return to see my parents at least once a year. Most years it's much more often. But I can't stay there. I ... just ... can't...not that I don't love it. But ..." He looked pained. She was getting too close to asking why he left in the first place. It was of course that he was afraid he would be institutionalized again. They had not caught up with him here. After all, it was his parents who had committed him the first time, because of several embarrassing incidents....he didn't blame them, but he had to be on his best behavior when he was with them and ...well, they both thought he was completely cured. Or at last that's what he thought that they thought...

He tried again to answer her question without answering it. "I love New York very much. It's my second home. Mum and Dad come to visit me sometimes too." He laughed. "They are not quite as enamoured of the Big Apple as I am. But yes, I do miss them terribly sometimes. I do, very much..."

Danny finished his soup and the server came to take away his soup bowl and ask if the lady was finished with hers.

"Oh I know exactly where my family came from. I can trace it back to Paris for at least two generations and from thence back several hundred more years in different areas of France. My family surname has been Lenoir for four generations now. Before that, well, I can't say exactly on the paternal side what the name would have been. The maternal side was Moreau. I suppose I should look into that some time." He had wondered about his deformed ancestor, the one he resembled. He knew some of the story, but he wasn't about to tell this lady that he was related to the famous or more properly, infamous Phantom of the Opera. Perhaps he would find out more some day...