If I Was A Rich Girl (c)

[Pasha]

"I do not usually drink wine, so I will take your word for it, Miss Annabelle," Pasha replied with a grin. Although, with a future office job and maybe a hefty salary under his belt (or so he thought), he should have to get used to drinking wine. He glanced down at the menu once more. "What is good to eat here?"

[Annabelle]

Annabelle offered him a fliratious smile. "Anything is good, really. Daddy usually gets the steak. I personally get the fish. Then we share." She smiled when the waiter brought them back their red wine. Anna lifted her glass. She reminded herself to drink it slowly- after all, she was still buzzed from that vodka and she had to remain a lady.

"A toast! Welcome to America!"

[Pasha]

"A toast!" Pasha agreed. He lifted his glass and lightly let it 'clink' against hers. He took a sip before picking the menu back up. "So, are you suggesting that I share my steak with you, and you'll share your fish?" he asked playfully.

[Annabelle]

"If you so wish, your highness," Annabelle teased, sipping at her wine. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to order the merlot. She was already a bit too tipsy. "You know, I am like New York royalty," she began crossing her legs and letting her foot gradually touch his leg under the table.

[Pasha]

"Are you?" Pasha asked, his eyebrows arching. Did he just feel... wait... was that really her foot running against his leg? He exhaled slowly and lifted up his glass to take another drink. "Just what are you suggesting then, miss?"

[Annabelle]

She bit her lip, hiding a grin, then took a large gulp of wine, her eyes connecting with his.

"That it just may be your lucky day," she answered, letting it hang in the air as the waitress came by.

"the usual, Violet," Annabelle told her, not even bothering for a second to break eye contact with him.

[Pasha]

Pasha's focus remained on Annabelle's striking blue eyes. He had never seen a girl like her, ever. If it weren't for the very real sensation of her foot on his leg and the very real taste of the wine in his glass, he would've easily been able to chalk this whole afternoon up to some sort of dreamlike state. This like this didn't happen to guys like him! Then again, there was a first time for everything.

"Today already is my lucky day," he responded with a grin. He reached across the table, his fingertips lightly brushing against her hand. "Here I am, enjoying a meal with one of the princesses of New York."

[Annabelle]

Annabelle loved the way that sounded. She was fit for him. Perfect New York royalty meeting...well, actual royalty.

No one in New York deserved it more than her, especially after the year she'd had.

Annabelle's fingers rubbed up against his hand as well, as she swirled her wine with her other hand. Maybe it was just the wine, but the sensation of his hand just barely touching hers was more than she could bear. It was near the hottest thing she'd ever experienced. And she's had her hand held by dozens of men.

Why was this different? had to be the wine. "You enjoying the wine?"

((yum: fuckyeahjewishmen.tumblr.com/post/12501136964#notes ))

[Pasha]

((I saw that and literally squealed! haha Aww, puppy!))

"The wine is good, da," Pasha answered with a smile. He moved his hand over hers slowly until hers was completely covered. Grinning, he gently took her hand, brought it over to his side of the table, and lightly kissed it. After all, suave princes did those types of things, right? Of course they did. And that's exactly what he was. A suave Russian prince.

"It is no vodka, but I think I will live," he joked afterward, lightly setting her hand back down on the table.

[Annabelle]

Annabelle's heart flipped. There was something about him, that was different when he touched her, compared to anyone else who ever did.

But as Annabelle gazed at him, sipping on her wine, she realized that - duh, he was a PRINCE. Obviously he was having this effect on her.

"Vodka burns when it goes down. What's with that?"

[Pasha]

"What do you mean?" Pasha asked, laughing. He shrugged his shoulders playfully and gave Annabelle's hand a small squeeze. He remembered the first time he had tried vodka and, yes, it did burn. A lot, if he remembered correctly, but his father explained to him that it was part of the charm. It was the only way to tell vodka and water apart, he also remembered saying. After all, the only difference between the two liquids, language-wise, was one measly letter.

"You get used to it," he assured her. "The more you drink, the less it burns. The burn... the burn is how you know it works."

[Annabelle]

Annabelle smirked. Alcohol seemed to be like beauty- it hurt, but it was always well worth it in the end. The waitress showed up with their food, setting the plates down in front of them. Annabelle picked up her fork and took a bite of the barbecued salmon. "Delicious. What do you think?"

[Pasha]

"Well, it looks great!" Pasha observed. He picked up his knife and fork and cut into the steak. "This... wow!" He could hardly believe what he was tasting. "Incredible."

[Annabelle]

Annabelle grinned. "Here, try the salmon." She cut off a piece with her fork and fed it to him.

[Pasha]

Pasha leaned across the table and took the salmon off of her fork. He chewed it and nodded approvingly. "That's great!" He then cut off a piece of his steak and extended his fork to her, offering her a bite. "Would you like to try mine?"