“But you’re rethinking that,” I surmise from her tone as I lean back in my chair.
She chuckles and sweeps her hand around to indicate the interior of the restaurant I’d chosen. “It’s hard not to be impressed by this.”
I let my gaze move up the upscale establishment I’d selected for our first date. Not a single table occupied by anyone else. Ours is in the center of the dining room and we are utterly alone because I rented out the entire restaurant so we could have privacy. Came to an agreement with the owner and agreed on a ridiculous amount of money that would compensate him for what he would have normally made in food and liquor sales. I also paid the staff that got an unexpected night off, including what they would’ve made in tips, which was a lot since the menu is exorbitantly pricey.
“That was partly my intention,” I admit to her because Blue is a smart enough woman that she can figure out what this is costing me tonight. “To impress you. But I also wanted privacy so we wouldn’t be bothered.”
“By fans?” she asks.
“Yeah…it’s part of the territory, I’m afraid.”
“Hey, I lived in LA. I know the deal,” she returns as her finger circles the top of her wineglass. We’d put in our order and the waiter has retired to the kitchen, giving us absolute privacy while we enjoy our wine.
“What were you doing in LA when we met?” I ask her, more than curious about the woman she was and the woman she’s changed into.
Her face clouds slightly and she shrugs. “I just wanted out of Phoenix. Had stars in my eyes, I guess, and thought I could make it big out there. Just like thousands of other girls.”
“Modeling? Acting?”
“Either,” she replies. “I know I just wanted something big. Something I’d never attain here or in college.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“My parents didn’t see it that way,” she says with a laugh completely devoid of mirth. “I turned my nose up at a full athletic scholarship to University of Arizona.”
“Swimming?”
“Yeah. Money was always tight because of Billy’s condition so my parents were beyond thrilled when I got the scholarship.”
Her voice trails off and she picks up her glass of wine. Cutting her gaze sideways, she takes a small sip.
Even though we’re the only ones in the room, I lower my voice to a gentle tone. “I’m going to take a guess that your parents weren’t happy you went to LA and not to college on that scholarship.”
Those soft brown eyes of hers come to mine and although she lifts her chin to perhaps give the impression she was confident in her life’s choice at that point, I can see the guilt in her expression. “It caused a rift between us,” she admits.
Our waiter appears at our table with our entrees. He lays them before us and they don’t disappoint. I chose a prime dry-aged Delmonico that I know will be worth every bit of the ninety-five-dollar price tag for this hunk of beef. Blue ordered seared sea scallops and they look delicious too but would in no way be filling enough for me. The waiter melts away after we assure him everything looks good and I start to cut into my steak.
Blue delicately cuts a large scallop into quarters and takes a dainty bite. She closes her eyes and moans with pleasure, a sound that hits me straight between my legs.
“Good?” I ask her.
“You have to try,” she says, spearing one of the pieces with her fork and holding it over the table to me.
It’s a completely intimate move and one I didn’t expect from Blue. I had to do a whole lot of crazy just to get her to go out with me on a date, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious.
Which is fine. I can be patient when I need to be.
I lean in and let her feed me the morsel. The flavors of honey and lime explode on my tongue and I regret not getting a side of those with my steak.
“Good, huh?” she asks with a smile.
“Really good,” I answer after I swallow the bite.
We eat in silence for a few moments, which gives me time to consider Blue and what I’ve learned about her so far. Clearly her parents are a touchy subject and I’d like to know more, but I decide to ask her about something that I know gives her joy.
“So tell me more about Billy,” I say as I pause to take a sip of water. “What’s the age difference between you two?”
“I’m six years older,” she replies with a tender smile.
“What exactly are his limitations?” I ask her curiously.
“You’ve seen some of the physical. He can’t really ambulate but for very short distances and with help, so he’s mostly in a motorized wheelchair. His arms have some significant contractures but his hands are pretty good, although he has to get a lot of therapy. He has some cognitive impairment so learning new things can be difficult and frustrating.”