“Too bad,” I said, recklessly deciding to see if there was any truth to Desi’s crazy theory. I leaned toward him and whispered in a breathy voice. “You missed my table top dance. Somebody ended up with my bra.”
I heard a snap, and he glanced into his lap, startled. He set a broken chopstick on the table as a blush crept up his neck. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”
Had I rattled the notorious playboy? Me, who didn’t even know how to flirt? The thought was thrilling and a little bit terrifying. Our waitress arrived, to my relief, placing steaming plates of food between us.
“Awesome.” Slade rubbed his hands. He filled my plate and slid it toward me. “Okay, risk taker, let’s see if I can give you something too hot to handle.” The suggestive tone of his voice made my toes curl.
I was clearly the amateur flirt, but the light dancing in his eyes made me feel surprisingly playful. “You underestimate me,” I told him, and then I took a bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue. It was spicy, but not overwhelming. “I’m disappointed, Edmunds.” I looked him right in the eye. “I was expecting something much hotter from you.”
He held my gaze. “Oh, I’m sure I can find something hot enough to rattle you, BB.”
I flushed under his heated stare. Why did I even try teasing him? He was a pro, and I was still using training wheels. I took a bite of the mee krob, the crispy noodles with their sweet sauce cooling my tongue. I wished I had something to cool down the rest of me.
“So what do you think Max will be doing twenty years from now?” Slade asked, scooping a second pile of rice onto his plate.
His question surprised me, but I was relieved he’d toned down the spicy talk, since I was out of ammo. I leaned back in my chair. “I have no idea. Something serious. Crime scene specialist?”
Slade laughed. “Too gross for him. I’m picturing him as a professor. The genius kind, who spends all his time holed up in his office researching wormholes or something.”
“How about Gilly?” I took another bite of curry, welcoming the heat on my tongue.
“Easy.” He paused to swallow a sip of water. “Teen actress. In and out of jail. Crazy talented, but a total train wreck.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Maybe she’ll find a Hollywood agent who can keep her out of trouble.”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Gilly not in trouble? No way.”
“I know!” I pointed my fork at him, excited by my vision. “Max will be the super serious boyfriend. He’ll be DiMaggio to her Marilyn Monroe.”
Slade blinked. “Her what to her who?”
I shook my head. “I thought you liked movies. You do know who Marilyn Monroe was, right?”
“Not a total moron, BB.” He tapped the side of his head. “Room in here for a few pop culture facts next to the sports stats.”
That made me laugh out loud, and his answering laugh warmed me more than the food or the tea.
“Okay. So, Marilyn was like a lost girl, you know? She was way more talented than people gave her credit for. Not just another beautiful blonde. Actually, she was a brunette once upon a time.” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know why guys think only blondes are hot.”
His eyes flicked to my hair, then he gave me a lazy grin. “Agreed. Why limit the options?”
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, you know Joe DiMaggio? Baseball legend?”
Slade tapped the side of his head again. “Yankees. Got it.”
“So he loved her desperately. He wanted to take care of her, when everyone else just wanted to use her.”
Slade lifted the teapot, then paused mid-pour. “And then?”
I sighed. “He was insanely jealous. You know that famous picture with her dress blowing up around her legs?”
Slade nodded, his eyes never moving from my face even as he refilled his tea cup.
I cleared my throat, suddenly embarrassed about my rambling. “He sort of flipped out about that. He pushed her around after the photo shoot, so she left him.”
Slade set down the teapot. “Wow. Intense.” He sipped some tea. “So that’s Max and Gilly’s future, huh? That’s bleak, BB, even for you.”
I was hardly making this a romantic dinner by telling depressing stories. “Yeah, I guess it is.” I’d always been weirdly fascinated by old Hollywood actresses. The more tragic the story, the better. But I was killing the mood, which was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Maybe Gilly will be the genius professor, and Max will rock the X Games.”
Slade pushed his empty plate away and grinned. “Man, I’d love to see that.”
“Me, too. That’d be hilarious. We could wear ‘Team Max’ shirts and cheer him on.”
Slade’s eyes hooked on mine. “They’d interview us for one of those human interest segments. You’d be the nanny who helped him believe in himself. He’d have his own brand of lavender oil that all the girls would buy.”
We laughed together, and for a few moments it felt like we were like the other couples in the restaurant, on our own tiny island of happiness and private connection.
Slade’s phone buzzed again while the waitress cleared away the plates. He glanced at it, frowning.
“So, you probably want to get to that party, right?” I tried to hide my disappointment. “You can just drop me off and—”
“No.”
We stared at each other across the table.
“No?” I sounded like a brainless echo.
He shrugged. “Not in a party mood. How about a walk?”
“A…walk? In the dark?”
He grinned at me. “You’ve heard of moonlit strolls, right? I bet Marilyn and Joe did it all the time, up in the Hollywood Hills.”
My heart ricocheted in my chest. Was he playing me? Maybe I’d call his bluff. I answered his shrug with my own. “Okay, as long as I don’t have to climb any trees in the dark.”
He chuckled as he reached for the bill that I hadn’t even noticed, peeking out of its fake leather folder. “We can stay on the ground tonight.”
I put a hand out for the check. “If you won’t let me treat, let’s split it, okay?”
He glanced at the receipt, then up at me. “Why can’t you just let me buy?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess we’re both stubborn.”
I nodded. “I think we’ve established that.”
His easy grin returned. “Okay, we’ll split it tonight. But next time it’s on me.”
Next time? That was twice tonight he’d said that, but I shrugged like it was no biggie. “Deal,” I said lightly, even though my heart rate ratcheted up beyond what could possibly be safe for a seventeen-year-old girl.
Chapter Thirty-One
Slade
June 20, Thursday
I’d never done the moonlit stroll thing before. Alex probably had, with a gourmet picnic basket and a blanket. I tried not to think about other after-dark activities as Trina and I navigated the gravel canal path. I especially tried not to think about how she’d looked at me when she’d joked about doing a tabletop dance.
I dodged a pile of dog crap, nearly hidden in the darkness. “So what did Sharon mean today, when she asked about picture books and you said you’d check with the library?”
Trina’s feet scuffed next to mine, kicking pebbles along the path. “Sharon likes the kids to take a book with them when they move out of the shelter, and we keep a supply on hand for nightly reading. So I check with the library for old books they’re planning to sell at their annual book sales. Sometimes I check thrift stores, too.”
I thought of the box of old picture books in our basement. “I might be able to donate some. Probably a few classics in there. Dr. Seuss. Thomas the Train.”
“No Disney princess books?”
I heard the teasing smile in her voice. “Nope,” I said. “But I’m keeping the fairy tales. I have a thing for fairies. Pixies in particular.”
“That’s original,” she picked up the pace a little. “Maybe you could give Disney some tips. They’re going to run out of princess ideas one of these days.”