Something Better

by Gail R Delaney

  This was a place that High Hollywood Society came to when they didn't care to be mauled by paparazzi. The occasional cameraman hung out in the parking lot or near the door, on the off chance that someone noteworthy would come to eat, but most stuck to Los Angeles or Hollywood -- because more often than not, the pictures that paid the most money were the ones of the recluse and troublesome celebs. And they either didn't care if they were seen, or made it a point to be seen, so the tucked away restaurant didn't fit their needs, subconscious or otherwise.

  "This is a cute place," she offered, taking in the décor. Whether it was 'retro' or just not updated, she wasn't sure but the wallpaper and paint colors would have been perfectly in place about thirty years earlier. Pinks and pale greens added lightness to the dimly lit space, keeping it from feeling too dark.

  "I haven't been here in a couple years. I miss the filet mignon."

  "Why haven't you come?"

  David shrugged, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles. "No reason." He leaned his other arm on the table, across the front of his chest, and leaned forward to bring his face into the soft glow of the low candle nestled in the centerpiece. "Where were you born?"

  Andi arched an eyebrow and chuckled softly. "Quite the segue you've got there. Why do you want to know that?"

  "Because I want to know about you, and I figure where you were born is a great place to start."

  "Do you want my mini-bio? It's pretty boring."

  He grinned wider. "Sure."

  Andi set her chin in her hand. "Okay, I was born April 27th in Loveland, Ohio and--"

  "What year?"

  She shook her head. "Classified information. I was named Andrea Elizabeth--"

  "Why won't you tell me?"

  Andi sighed, leaning forward a little. "Are you going to let me finish?"

  He cleared his throat and motioned for her to continue, but before she could, he plunged forward again. "How long were you married?"

  A cold chill tightened the back of her neck, and Andi pressed her lips together, looking down at the table. His hold on her hand tightened slightly, but he didn't retract the question. It wasn't the asking of the question that made her balk -- if this relationship, or whatever designation they decided to stamp on it, was really going to happen, then he should know the best and worst of her -- it was the fact that Lawrence Bonherre had to invade their evening at all that bothered her.

  "Nine years," she finally answered, raising her gaze to look into his face. Andi did her best to hide how uncomfortable the conversation made her by smiling and resting her chin on her hand again. "The talk of past relationships usually doesn't happen until the second or third date."

  David's 'scoundrel' grin -- she thought of it that way because it was always that grin that inspired her into trouble -- touched his lips and she swore his eyes really did twinkle in the candlelight. "Yeah, and when I take a woman on a first date, I usually don't already know what her lips taste like." His voice was rough and low, and Andi swore it sent vibrations of sensation over her skin as his gaze settled on her mouth. "Or what she feels like against me."

  The waitress arrived with their drinks, and as Andi slid her hand from his and sat back, she drew in a metered breath to counteract the thundering of her heartbeat. The waitress said something about their meals being out shortly, but Andi barely heard it as she sucked down a third of the cold soda to try and abate the heat radiating just beneath her skin.

  As soon as the waitress stepped away from the table, David rose and came around beside her chair, holding out his hand. "Dance with me."

  She looked up, then around at the empty floor around the piano. "No one else is dancing..."

  "I don't care," he said with a small quirk of his grin.

  There was something about the way he smiled at her that challenged her and empowered her at the same time. He could inspire her to flirt shamelessly, to kiss recklessly... and so it would seem... to dance. Andi laid her hand in his and scooted her chair back, following him onto the empty wood floor at the end of the piano. The pianist rolled from the end of one tune into a melody best suited for love ballads and slow dancing. David turned toward her and raised her hand over her head, turning her around once before he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder for only a moment before sliding it down his lapel.

  "What makes you think I can dance?" she asked, smiling up at him.

  "What makes you think I can? I just wanted an excuse to hold you." He ran the fingertips of both hands from her shoulders to the small of her back, parallel on either side to her spine. Up and down, he slowly stroked, threatening to make her shiver with the contact. "And to say I'm sorry. For making you uncomfortable."

  Andi focused on the subtle black-on-black design of his tie. "No one likes to admit to their failures."

  His hands splayed on her back and he pulled her closer, continuing to sway and step with the music. David bent his neck and turned into her, the tip of his nose grazing the side of her neck, and it was impossible for her to cover up the way her breath hitched at the subtle touch. She tingled and fluttered inside, tilting her head to elongate her neck, and swore she felt the warmth of his breath on her skin.

  "Then I asked the wrong question," he said softly, but his lips were close to her ear. "I don't want to know what's gone wrong in your life. I want to know what's gone right."

  "Well, that's easy."

  David raised his head, but still held her so close she had to turn her face to the side to look him in the eyes. They looked dark -- almost black -- in the dim light. His fingers went back to following the line of her spine. "Yeah? Tell me."

  It was hard to think, to keep her mind on the conversation, when her skin was alive and awake beneath his touch and her lungs burned from trying to breathe normally when he looked at her the way he did. Andi blinked and swallowed.

  "I have a wonderful son in Jake and a wonderful friend in Maggie. I have a family that has always been behind me, no matter what. I have a career I once never would have even imagined. And..." She smiled, and let his grin inspire her again by tipping her chin toward him. Their mouths hovered not an inch apart, and she wondered what it would take for him to break his impromptu promise. "I apparently have a wonderful boyfriend."

  His smile widened, but she couldn't carry off the moment and nearly choked on her own stifled laugh. Andi pressed her forehead to his shoulder and let her shoulders shake with the silenced chuckle.

  "What are you laughing at?" he asked near her ear again, and she could hear the wide smile in his voice.

  "I'm thirty-s-s-s--" She stuttered over the number, and stopped to clear her throat. He looked down at her with arched eyebrows. "I'm thirty-something years old. I'm too old to have a boyfriend. And I'm way too old to be anyone's girlfriend."

  "Then what are we?" he asked. "We're not lovers."

  Andi's breath caught in her throat as she looked into the intensity of his gaze. The word didn't have to be said, it slid between them without question. Yet. He smiled... a slow tipping upward of his lips, first one corner then the next.

  *****

  "So, what did your son think of the fun park?"

  Andi smiled and chuckled, her eyes lighting up as she wiped her lips with her napkin. "We got to the park, and after spending three hours walking around, he decided that he was too old to have his birthday party there."

  "Too old? How old is he?"

  "He'll be eleven."

  "Man, I would have loved a birthday party at a place like that when I was his age." He picked up his fork and poked at his baked potato to mix in the butter and sour cream. "Do you know where I spent my eleventh birthday?"

  She shook her head, setting her arm on the table to rest her cheek against her curled fingers. Her smile was infectious, and he loved the way her eyes sparked with curiosity. "No. Where?"

  David paused, thinking for a minute. He knew he'd been filming something, but couldn't remember what. Just that it wasn't
home, and it wasn't a party. "I don't know," he said with a chuckle and a shrug. "I just know it wasn't bowling and playing miniature golf. I don't think I've ever been."

  "Maybe you can go with us some time."

  "I thought he was too old--"

  "To have birthday parties there," she interrupted. "Apparently going with your mom is okay."

  The idea of spending a Saturday afternoon playing miniature golf with Andrea Parker and her son held more appeal to him than he expected, and he nodded. "I would love to."

  She went back to cutting her food, and David enjoyed another brief moment of just watching her. Everything she did, every move she made even cutting her salmon, was graceful. Or maybe he just saw her through a softened lens.

  "So, what does he want to do now?"

  "He just wants a party at the house. Have a bunch of friends over and swim in the pool, that kind of thing. Grill burgers and hot dogs." She looked at him across the table, pausing for a moment with a piece of asparagus on a fork. "Do you want to come? It's Sunday afternoon."

  "Wow. Bowling and barbeque?" he teased.

  "You don't have to," she said quickly, deep color blooming in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

  "Sweetheart, I'd love to." He leaned forward, holding her eyes with his. "It sounds fun. What time on Sunday?"

  "People are coming at eleven, and we're eating at noon. Honestly, David--"

  "Can I come early to help?"

  She stared at him for several moments before huffing a small breath and shaking her head, shrugging one shoulder. He wondered with the expression on her face, if she'd made some kind of decision she didn't say. Andi cleared her throat before saying "Sure. I'd love the help. Thank you".

  He almost said he'd take any excuse to spend more time with her, but it wasn't the whole truth. David had never dated a woman who had children, though he'd had buddies who did. Nearly every one of them had warned against it. But, he was ashamed to admit, most of his friends had didn't have kids in mind when they asked their mothers out. The first time he kissed Andi, really kissed Andi, he hadn't known about her son. The fact did nothing to take away his impulse to be near her, with her. If anything, he realized with a grin as he focused again on his food, it had made her more appealing to him.

  He wondered what his buddies would have to say about that.

  And at the same time, he knew he didn't care.

  They settled into silence for a few minutes, eating their meals while the piano music and subdued conversations filled the background. David had always thought of silence on a date as a sign that things weren't going well, but just like the quiet they'd shared in the car on the way to Burbank, he didn't feel the uneasy edge of an uncomfortable date. It was natural.

  Every minute he spent with her felt natural. Easy.

  Real.

  "Lawrence had an affair."

  David paused with his steak halfway to his mouth, focusing on her. Before he could say anything, she cleared her throat and continued.

  "Lawrence is my ex husband," Andi talked more to her asparagus than him, poking at it with her fork. "He had several affairs. Since shortly after Jake was born. Maybe before, I don't know."

  With each sentence, her voice got a little softer until he barely made out the last. She still hadn't looked up, swirling the speared asparagus through the champagne sauce on her plate. Even with her head tilted down, he saw her work her lips nervously between her teeth and she flipped an errant curl behind her ear.

  Before she could tuck the hand back under the edge of the table, David reached across and took it, curling his fingers around hers. And he silently thanked the restaurant owners for making their tables small and intimate so he could reach her. "Andi..."

  Andi set the fork down with a clack, and he caught the slight shake of her hand. She drew in a deep breath before raising her head and looking at him, a nervous smile barely touching the corners of her lips. "You wanted to know how long I was married... I thought you should know why I wasn't anymore."

  David squeezed her hand and she turned her palm into his, letting him hold it tighter. "Sweetheart, I--"

  "Can I take those for you?"

  He released her hand to sit back, nodding to the waitress as he watched Andi. She nodded as well, leaning back as she fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. Her gaze skimmed him but looked quickly away, focusing somewhere in the vicinity of the piano player.

  The candlelight played over her features, making the subtle red of her hair come alive with each wave that framed her face. Her glasses hid her eyes, but he thought maybe the shine he saw was more than a reflection from the candle on the lenses. She swallowed and drew a deep breath, her shoulders drawing back.

  He recognized that moment... that deep breath she took whenever she needed to focus herself. Or when she needed to school her reaction. She'd done it after they kissed on the set that first time. That day he had thought it was just an actress shedding her character, only to learn that it was because she had felt the effects of the kiss as much as he had.

  "Sir?"

  David blinked and looked up at their waitress. "I'm sorry. What?"

  She smiled politely, balancing the dishes on her arm. "Would either of you be interested in seeing the dessert menu?"

  Andi's attention snapped back to him, and whether she meant to or not, her gaze locked with his. Slowly, she smoothed her lips together pulling the lower one between her teeth. The gloss she'd worn earlier was gone, worn off by their meal, and he wondered if the taste still lingered on her lips.

  In a flash, he wanted nothing more than to get out of the restaurant.

  She didn't look away from him, but one corner of her perfect-for-kissing mouth tipped up in a subtle, sexy grin. David smiled back and shook his head, forcing himself to be polite and look up at the waitress. "Just the check, please."

  The waitress either anticipated his answer, or it was near the end of her shift and she was ready to leave, because she slid a black bifold from her apron pocket and set it on the table. David held up his hand so she knew to wait, and pulled his platinum card from his wallet. She took it immediately and came right back. By the time he filled out the tip and doted the 'i' in Bishop, he was ready to bolt to the door, but managed a polite smile as he pushed his chair back and stepped beside Andi, offering his hand.

  *****

  Andi's insides felt like she'd just taken a one-hundred-foot drop on a rollercoaster at sixty miles an hour. Exhilaration slammed hard into sheer panic. They'd teased each other all night, and when the concept of 'had a date' still hid behind 'having a date', she'd been able to flirt and smile.

  Now, he led her from the restaurant with a firm but gentle hand holding hers, and even that touch was enough to make her insides shake. She was hot, wishing they'd turn the air conditioning up a little, yet gooseflesh prickled on her arms. Breathing with any kind of normality was nearly impossible, and her head felt light at the attempt.

  "Thank you for coming, Mr. Bishop," said the manager as they approached. He stood at the door and pushed it open to let them pass. "Please enjoy the rest of your evening."

  David paused in the doorway, and when she took her last step it brought her flush against his arm where she gripped his hand. He looked down at her, his devilish grin making his eyes spark. "Thank you," he said to the manager, but his eyes never looked away from her.

  In her peripheral, she heard murmurs of his name and fought the urge to take a step back from him. It was a battle she still fought -- being torn between accepting him when he said he wanted to be there with her, and be seen with her, and the irrational voice that whispered that she had no place there and she had to be insane to believe David wanted to waste his time with someone like Andrea Parker. The voice that sounded so much like Lawrence Bonherre.

  They stepped outside, and Andi took a deep breath of the cool evening air. The sun had gone down an hour before. The moon and the occasional lamppost lit the parking lot, and they moved past
the few people waiting outside the restaurant to be seated. Out here, no one seemed to notice the man who walked beside her, holding her hand.

  By the time they reached the part of the parking lot where he'd parked his car, there was no one else around except those they'd left behind. Andi's heart pounded in her chest like a frantic, caged bird.

  "Are you cold?" David asked, his fingers working at the front buttons of his suit jacket. He stopped, turning toward her as he worked at the front buttons of his suit jacket. "Here..."

  "No, I'm fine." She hadn't actually thought about touching him other than to still his hands, but when she laid her hand on his lapel his eyes snapped to her. The lights cast strange shadows around them, close enough to let her see his face, but far enough away to diffuse his features. "I'll be fine once we're in the car..." she managed to say even though her throat was suddenly so dry it was hard to speak.

  Beneath her hand, his chest rose and fell with breath that was just a little too fast. Without saying anything, he took her hand and they started across the lot again. The car was easily in sight, and he took the keys from his pocket, remotely unlocking the doors with a twitter and a flash of the lights. As they reached her door, he curled his fingers beneath the handle and she slid into the space between him and the side of the car. Before opening the door, he stopped and looked down at her. He stood so close she swore she felt the heat of his body against her cooled skin. Her nerves tingled and she couldn't quite steady her breath with the anticipation of wanting something, yet afraid of it at the same time.