by Dee Mann
"Drinks and dancing. That sounds like fun. Sure, why not. Where is this place?"
"I don't know. I'll call Holly after we hang up and find out where it is and what time everyone's meeting there."
"Any idea what it's like so I'll know what to wear?"
"All I know is that it's supposed to be dark and romantic. I'm thinking maybe my blue pantsuit. Or…oh!." She started laughing. "I have a great idea! Do you still have that suit you bought for the costume party last Halloween?"
"Sure, I have the whole outfit."
"Excellent! How ‘bout I dress up all slutty and you dress up all butch and I'll be your girlfriend for the night?"
8:35 PM
As she returned from the ladies room, Jillian realized heads were turning to follow her. It made her feel both sexy and self-conscious.
I wonder if he'd be jealous if he saw all these guys checking me out?
Her self-consciousness vanished as she reentered the alcove to Paul's appreciative gaze. She could see the wonder in his eyes…and something else…hunger. Hunger for her. A thrill ran through her as she imagined what he must be thinking.
Oh yes, he'd be jealous.
The thought pleased her.
Paul jumped up to hold her chair. As he returned to his seat, his finger trailed lightly across the back of her neck and shoulder, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine.
Liz was right. I have to be careful.
"You were going to tell me about Rob and Lisa."
Paul began the saga of Rob and Lisa, from how they'd met to his talk with Rob Wednesday night, and of the surprise blind date.
"That was why I called so late. I was ready to leave when the girls showed up. I really didn't want to stay, but I couldn't abandon him. And I kind of felt sorry for Marianne. If I had gone home, she would have been the third wheel. She was pretty cool, though. She told me she knew right away I was her babysitter and once we both realized there were no expectations on either side, we had an okay time."
"Just okay?" she asked, surprised to feel a slight, green twinge.
"Just okay. She's a cop in Seattle, and had some really good stories to tell, but she knew my head was somewhere else. She even asked me who I'd been thinking about all night. I guess she really is good at her job."
"So who were you thinking about."
"Some girl I met in a coffee shop. Some girl who played me like a violin, broke my heart, and then gave me a reprieve a few seconds later."
The green became guilt at how she had treated him that morning.
"Why did you, by the way? You were walking away. Why did you tell me where you'd be for lunch?"
"It was the look on your face. When I said goodbye and started walking by you, I saw your face and I knew it wasn't the look of a player who hadn't scored. You looked like a wounded puppy." She saw the color rise in his cheeks. "And I guess I decided if meeting me was that important to you, I should at least give you a chance."
A knock signaled the arrival of the pasta and main course but Paul's eyes remained fixed on her. "I'm really glad you did."
He was rewarded by a shy smile. "Me, too."
They attacked their meals with gusto, once again sharing and stealing bits and bites. After Rob and Lisa, their conversation remained light, but focused on learning about each other. In between morsels, they explored likes and dislikes. They discovered they both preferred baseball to other sports, shared a strong distaste for Brussels sprouts, and dreamed of one day, living in the country.
"Yellow, Cherry Garcia, The Godfather, Claire de Lune, shower, and Italian cold cuts with everything and extra hot peppers," Paul said in answer to Jillian's asking his favorite color, ice cream flavor, old movie, song, bathing preference, and sandwich. "And you?"
"Red, Heath Bar Crunch, Groundhog Day, Always and Forever, 80/20 shower, and grilled pastrami on dark rye with American cheese and dark-brown mustard."
"Mmmm." Paul regarded her with imaginative eyes. "Yes, you'd look good in red. Really good. I can see you sitting on a sofa next to me wearing a red dress, eating Heath Bar Crunch ice cream while we watch Groundhog Day.
"Yes indeed, but, oops, you have a little ice cream right here." He reached over and caressed the corner of her mouth with his finger, trailing it along the bottom of her lower lip.
She almost gave in to an impulse to grab his hand and hold it to her cheek, but was saved by the knock that presaged the arrival of their salad.
Get a grip girl! You shouldn't even think like that on a first date.
Both had thoroughly enjoyed, but only half eaten their dinners. Each was uncertain where this date was going or how it would end, but neither wanted to chance feeling bloated and lethargic from overeating, no matter how good the food.
They picked at their salads as they traded stories of their high school and college years. Although they felt comfortable together, comfortable enough to confide, to confess, to share their most intimate thoughts, they each held back a little, sensing it was too soon.
When coffee and dessert arrived, they found their fingers intertwined, although neither remembered actually taking the other's hand.
"Oh my!"
Paul watched Jillian's eyes slowly close as the sinful flavors of the Zuccotto blended in her mouth for the first time.
Whoa! I wouldn't have believed it possible that she could look lovelier than she has all night, but look at her enjoying that first bite! I wonder how much more beautiful she'd look stretched out in bed, in the middle of a giant…Stop it. You're getting yourself all worked up and it's way too early for that. Just eat your dessert.
At his first taste of the rich cake, he understood her rapture.
Slowly, respectfully, they savored each bite as a silent homage to the genius who created the masterpiece. Jillian finished first and felt a loss that could only be assuaged by reaching over and stealing a forkful from Paul's plate.
"Hey!"
"I'm sorry, but it's sooo good and mine is all gone and I just had to have one more bite."
He understood and told her so. He took another bite then offered her the last luscious nibble. She started to refuse, but he brought the fork back, gently kissed the sweet confection and offered it again.
How could she say no?
Together, they sat back in their seats, completely sated. Neither could remember ever having enjoyed a meal more. Their eyes and thoughts were on each other. Silence had fallen, and as it stretched out, each realized they didn't feel the usual compulsion to fill every second with chatter.
Paul drank in the vision next to him and marveled at how comfortable he felt with her. Usually he was nervous on a first date, but tonight, with Jillian, it had all been effortless.
She, too, was wondering at the ease with which it had all come; the conversation, the little jokes, the touches, the sharing; all of it. In three short days, his face had become so familiar to her she was sure she could draw it from memory. The sound of his voice echoed in her mind and she found herself longing to hear more of it.
With an impish grin, she said, "Priya told me this morning that you two like dirty jokes. Is that true?"
Somewhat timorously, Paul replied, "Well…yes, I guess we do. Of course, everyone in the office likes them."
"So tell me one."
"Ahh…"
"Come on. I've heard them before. Tell me one. Please?"
"Well, okay."
This was a turn of events he'd not expected. In fact, it was the last thing he might have imagined doing on a first date. But she did ask
"A mother and father took their 6 year old son to a nude beach. As the boy walked along the beach, he noticed that some of the ladies had breasts bigger than his mother's, and asked her why. She told her son, ‘The bigger they are , the dumber the person is.'
"Pleased with the answer, the boy ran off to play in the ocean but returned to tell his mother that many of the men had larger members than his dad. His mother replied, ‘The bigger it is, the dumber the person i
s.'
"Again satisfied with his answer, the boy ran back to the ocean to play. Shortly after though, the boy returned again and told his mother, ‘Daddy is talking to the dumbest girl on the beach and the longer he talks, the dumber he gets.'"
Jillian groaned.
"Well, you didn't say it had to be a good one. And that's about enough with those jokes…" He paused for a beat, then added with a mischievous grin, "…at least until I know you a little better."
He glanced at his watch and asked, "Did you want to sit here all night and chat or, perhaps, find out what else I have planned?"
"There's more?"
"I did promise you the best first date of all time, although if you really want to stay and talk, we can do that, too."
When Jillian assured him she was game for anything he had planned, Paul reached over and pressed the call button. In less than a minute, there was a knock and Gino appeared at the door.
"Was everything satisfactory?"
"Everything was wonderful, Gino," Paul said. "Just wonderful."
"May I bring you something else? More coffee? Anisette?" He looked at Jillian. "Another piece of the Zuccotto?"
"Oh lord, no! That dessert was so good it should be illegal. If I eat another bite of that tonight I'll have to spend the next month, at least, atoning for the sin."
Paul and Gino laughed appreciatively.
"If there is nothing else, then…" Gino placed a leather folder containing the check on the table next to Paul.
"Wait." Paul removed a credit card from his wallet and laid it on the folder without looking inside.
Then he removed a small cell phone from his inside breast pocket, flipped it open, and paged Gary.
Jillian touched his hand and said, "Thank you, Paul. This has been so wonderful, so unbelievable. It was the nicest meal I've ever eaten."
"You're welcome. And I agree. But honestly, as good as the food was, it was the company that really made it special for me."
Her heart leapt.
Always the right thing. He always says the right thing.
His hand caressed hers as they chatted aimlessly, waiting for Gino to return.
What else does he have planned? Is it as extravagant as dinner? This was nice, but it's too much for a first date. Is he expecting something in return? Why doesn't that bother me? It should bother me. Shouldn't it?
Gino entered the room holding the folder and a white bag. "I brought some Zuccotto to take with you," he said, smiling broadly. "You can share it later, or tomorrow perhaps." His eyebrow lifted and his smile became a knowing grin. "It was our great pleasure to have you dine with us tonight."
They thanked him as he bowed one final time before leaving.
Paul opened the folder to sign the credit slip.
Jillian's curiosity got the better of her and she tried to surreptitiously peek at the total. She couldn't see it, but her artist's eye for detail could follow the movement of the pen as he added the tip and then totaled the slip. It appeared he'd written a one-something-zero-zero-zero – over one hundred dollars for the tip! Then it looked like he'd written five-something-seven-zero-zero.
Suddenly, she felt guilty about being so nosy, as if she had intruded on his privacy. She looked away, but could not get the numbers out of her head.
Five hundred dollars! He just spent over five hundred dollars on dinner! For me! Is he mad? Or is the one I've dreamed about? But all that money! But maybe…maybe he really is the guy…the one who'll care…who'll make me happy again…the one who…
"Jillian?"
Paul was standing next to her chair and she had not even noticed him get up.
"Sorry. I was thinking about something."
"Something good, I hope. Me, perhaps?"
He pulled the chair out as she rose, smiling.
"Perhaps," she replied with a saucy giggle.
He lifted her wrap from the chair back and draped it over her shoulders. Then he offered her his arm and they strolled slowly toward the exit to the accompaniment of dozens of jealous stares.
9:55 PM
"Oh, Paul, you didn't!"
At the end of the red carpet stood a white horse, with a light gray mane and tail, attached to a white carriage trimmed in gold, with plush red velvet seats. The driver, in his black suit, ruffled white shirt, bow tie, and top hat completed the scene.
His grin gave the answer and Jillian dashed across the sidewalk. "It's so beautiful! I've always wanted to ride in one of these."
Paul helped her in, then he, too, was seated and the clomp-clomp of the horse's feet drifted up as they began moving.
Oh, Lizzie, I know you'd disapprove, but I just can't sit here with all this space between us. Not after that dinner. It's just too romantic.
"Okay, now don't go getting any ideas, but…"
She slid across the seat until she felt his leg against hers, then settled back and rested her head against his shoulder.
"Uhh…well…sorry, but I do have one idea."
With a small sigh of approval, her head settled back against him as his arm encircled her, making her feel warm and safe.
They rode in silence for a few minutes until the carriage approached the Public Gardens and Common. The fragrance of flowering crab apple trees permeated the air.
"Mmmm…it smells wonderful here." She glanced up to see if there were any stars. "And look, the moon is full. This is perfect."
"Yes, it is," he agreed in a whisper, though he didn't mean the ride, the fragrance, and the moon. It was the feel of her head on his shoulder, her breast against his side, the scent of her hair, the comfort of having her close to him that made the moment special for him.
This is great. I could easily get used to this.
"Tell me about your family," he said, partly because he wanted to know, and partly because, despite her warning, he was getting ideas that would only get him in trouble this early in their relationship. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
Immediately, he regretted opening his mouth because she moved away and sat up, facing him.
It's just as well. Having her so close made me want to stay that way forever and I have more surprises in store for her before this date is over.
"I have four. Three sisters and one brother. Julia's the oldest. She's twenty-seven. Then me. Then Joanne, twenty-three, James, twenty, and Jessica, who turns eighteen next month."
Paul laughed. "Your parents really had a thing for the letter J, eh? I'll bet you lunch tomorrow that both their names begin with J."
Lunch? Tomorrow? That sounds promising. Too bad I already have plans.
"No bet. But you're right. Mom's name is Jolene and my dad's name is Jeffrey. They were high school sweethearts. Never even dated anyone else. They've been married thirty-two years."
"Wow. That's amazing. Thirty-two years! Did they let you in on their secret?"
"Actually, they sort of did. Or my mom did. When I was eighteen, two weeks before I was to leave for college, my mother and I were talking, girl talk, you know?"
Paul nodded.
"One of my friends had just broken up with her boyfriend because she wanted to be free to experiment while she was away at school. The poor guy was devastated. He really loved her. I saw him one day, about a week after the breakup and…oh my…he looked exactly as you did Wednesday morning." She gave a little grunt. "I wonder if that was why your expression made me… Well, it doesn't matter.
"Anyway, mom and I started to talk about relationships and things and I asked her how she and daddy stayed so happy all those years. And she told me."
Paul waited a few seconds, but nothing more was forthcoming. "Are you going to share what she said?"
Jillian flushed. "Well, some of it's kind of embarrassing to talk about with a guy on a first date."
"It can't be any more embarrassing for you than it is for me that you know about Mr. Johnson."
"Oh…! Oh…!" Jillian was mortified. She could feel her cheeks catch fire. Her hands shot up to hide he
r face.
Paul gently pulled them away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that. Priya told me she'd let it slip this morning and, well, I thought you'd find it funny." He paused, but she continued to stare at her lap. "Really, honey, I'm sorry."
Jillian lifted her eyes to meet his. Her face was still hot, but she could feel the fire fading and forced a weak smile. "That's okay. I just embarrass easily. I've always hated that I do that."
"Don't." His voice was gentle, his hand still on her warm cheek. "I think it's sweet. These days, it's like no one is ever embarrassed about anything. Even when they should be. So please, don't ever be embarrassed about being embarrassed. At least not with me. Now come on, tell me. What secrets did you learn from your mom?"
Jillian took a deep breath and composed her thoughts. Then the realization struck her.
He called me honey. And he did it unconsciously, like he'd said it a thousand times before. Or is that what he calls all women?
"I can't believe I'm telling you this." With a sigh, she began. "Mom told me that over the years, she and dad came up with these rules. They seem to have worked for them, at least as far as any of us can tell."
"So what are they?" He was anxious to hear what her mother, and by extension Jillian, thought were the keys to a good marriage.
"Okay." She covered her eyes with her hand as her head swung slightly back and forth. Then she took the hand away and looked him straight in the eye. "First and most important, according to mom, never pass up an opportunity to make love."
"Oh ho!" Paul's voice and eyebrows rose in unison.
"Stop that! It's hard enough to think about my parents, you know, that way, without you…?"
"Sorry. Really. I know just what you mean." He shook a little, as if a shiver had run up his spine. "I promise I'll be good. No more joking."
"Alright then. This is exactly the way she told them to me."
"First, never pass up an opportunity to make love.