Jamie was amazed when their cab dropped them in West Hollywood at a lovely, obviously wildly popular restaurant. She’d never heard of it, but it seemed that everyone in Los Angeles had—and they’d all decided to eat there that very night.
With the nearly regal bearing that Ryan could summon when she needed to, she led the way through the crowd milling about on the sidewalk, smoking. Jamie smiled up at her as Ryan confidently approached the host and said, “O’Flaherty. Party of two. Eight o’clock.”
He gave her a quick glance to see if she was anyone, then looked at his book. There were two red stars by her name, indicating she should be seated quickly and well. He was a bit surprised, because she didn’t dress like a well-connected Angelino, but the reservations staff only gave a guest two stars if they were very well-connected. “It may take a moment, but I’ll have your table ready as soon as possible,” he said, giving her a generous smile. “May I get you a drink while you wait?”
“Not for me. Jamie?”
Stunned at the treatment her lover was receiving, Jamie managed to shake her head. “I’ll wait until we’re seated.”
“Very good,” the man said, looking at her as if she’d made the perfect decision.
Their table was ready in just a few minutes, and, rather than handing them off to one of the lovely young women dressed in simple black dresses who were his assistants, the host escorted them himself.
He held their chairs out for each of them and said, “Your server will be with you in a moment. Please enjoy yourselves, and let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“I will,” Ryan said, acting like she was catered to at every meal she ate.
Before Jamie had time to ask what magic she’d used to make the host grovel, a young woman arrived, bearing two glasses of champagne on a tray. “Hi, I’m Geneva, your server. I’ve brought you a little starter. Do you like champagne?”
“Yes,” Ryan said, and Jamie nodded her assent.
“Great.” She set down the glasses and handed them menus. “I’ll let you study the menu for a minute, then I’ll come back and confuse you by describing all of the specials we have.” She leaned over and said conspiratorially, “If you like beef, don’t bother looking at the menu. I have a special you’ll kill for.”
Ryan closed the menu and smiled up at the woman. “I trust you,” she said, showing her even teeth.
“I’ll be back,” Geneva said.
Jamie picked up her glass and held it aloft. Ryan mimicked her and touched the rim of her glass to Jamie’s. “Here’s to you, Ms. O’Flaherty. I don’t know what you did to have these people treat you like a super-model, but I’m lovin’ it!”
Sharing bites of her peeky-toe crab appetizer with Ryan, Jamie said, “Remember the last time we were in L.A.?”
“Wish I didn’t, but, yes, I do. Why? Do you want another broken chair to add to your collection?” Ryan smiled wryly, but Jamie could tell she didn’t mind talking about it.
“No, I think one is enough. But I was just thinking ...” She put her fork to Ryan’s lips, watching her pull the bite in with the tip of her tongue. “That’s only been about a month, but you seem so much better. It amazes me.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, smiling confidently. “I feel better. I was just telling Ellen that yesterday.”
Jamie sipped the delicate white Bordeaux that the sommelier had recommended. “Fabulous wine,” she said. “Sip?”
“Sure.” Ryan let Jamie lift the glass to her lips, managing to keep the wine on her tongue. “That is good. Mine’s good too.”
“That’s a good cabernet. I thought you’d like it.” She took another bite of her appetizer and chewed thoughtfully. “Why do you think you’ve made so much progress so quickly?”
“Quickly? It’s almost May! You call this quick?”
“Yes I do, given that just a month ago you were so down.”
Ryan sipped at her wine, letting the warm, cherry-tinged liquid slide down her throat and warm her from within. “I’m not sure why I feel better, but I sure do. It’s kinda like I finally stopped fighting it and cut myself a break.” She looked at Jamie, clearly puzzled. “I have no idea why that helped, but it did.”
“It’s hard to feel better when you’re angry with yourself. If you’re not on your side, who is?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I feel like I just stopped being so harsh with myself. It was all kinda unconscious, though. I didn’t do much work.” She held up her hands, looking rather amazed.
“Sometimes that’s the best thing to do,” Jamie said. “Stop trying so hard.”
“That makes no sense,” Ryan said, smiling. “Hard work is always the answer.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweet cheeks. Sometimes the best thing to do is slow down and let yourself heal. Just stay out of the way.” She held up her arm. “I wouldn’t be healing well if I took off my splint and made myself use my arm as usual.”
“No, I don’t think that experiment would last very long. Maybe ... two minutes.”
“Right. It’d never work. I think some emotional wounds are like that. You can’t rush them. They heal at their own pace, and being angry at yourself for not healing fast enough doesn’t do a thing for you. It just makes you depressed.”
“Been there. Didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t like it either. But sometimes you have to go through those periods. There’s not a heck of a lot you can do to get through them, either. You just have to ride them out.”
Ryan made a face that had Jamie laughing. “But I don’t like to wait,” she said, sounding like a child. “I have no patience.”
“Yes, you do. And I think it’s being patient that has helped you feel better.”
“Maybe,” Ryan said, taking another sip of her wine. “Let’s make a deal that we don’t have any more big traumatic events, then we won’t have to test your hypothesis.”
“It’s a deal, buddy.” Jamie raised her glass and Ryan touched the rim with her own.
“To boring, routine lives.”
“Life with you will never be boring, Stretch. But no matter what happens to us, we can get through it together. That’s the important part.”
“To togetherness,” Ryan said, smiling broadly. “The important part.”
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