Leigh Ann turned to face Brad. "I would be pleased to have dinner with you."
"Great."
"However," Leigh Ann continued, "I have an obligation I have to fulfill first. My parents are expecting me to attend a small dinner party with friends of theirs from medical school."
"That's fine," Brad said as the tropical drinks were placed on the table. "We'll have a late dinner."
She laughed softly. "Better than that. I'll have a glass of wine, a few hors d'oeuvres, then explain that I have a dinner date with an irresistible pilot."
Sipping his drink, Brad swallowed wrong, almost choking at the unexpected comment. He coughed twice, then excused himself.
"Are you okay?" Leigh Ann asked with genuine concern.
Brad nodded and took a long pull on his straw. "I'm fine." He swallowed again, clearing his throat. He hoped the redness on his face would also clear. "You're really amazing."
Leigh Ann looked at him over the top of her tall drink. "Amazing?"
"Yes," Brad answered, reaching for her hand. "You appear to be reserved and unapproachable, but you're really the most down-to-earth, uncomplicated person I've met in a long time."
"Why, thank you, Captain Austin."
Chapter 18
Brad waited in the hotel lobby, trying to pass the time reading a lengthy article about the history of the Hawaiian Islands. Nick Palmer, Russ Lunsford, and an obviously inebriated Harry Hutton had stumbled in at a quarter past five. They had met three United Airlines stewardesses who were going to a luau with them. Harry talked incessantly about the virtues of the blond "trophy" he had snared. He said they were going to a Polynesian feast of food, drink, and wild sex. And off they went, guiding Harry down the hallway.
Brad was startled when Leigh Ann walked up to the side of his high-backed chair.
"Expecting someone, flyboy?" she asked as Brad leaped to his feet. Perfectly coiffed, Leigh Ann was wearing a pale yellow spaghetti-strap dress and off-white sandals.
"You look beautiful," said Brad, reaching down for the plumeria leis he had purchased in the hotel flower shop. "I thought you might enjoy some fresh flowers."
"Brad, they're gorgeous. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied, carefully slipping one of the leis over Leigh Ann's head. Her fragrance was stimulating. He kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Placing the other wreath of flowers over Brad's head, she hesitated a moment, then returned the kiss. "You're a nice guy, Brad Austin."
"I'll bet you say that to all the guys," he replied, taking her hand as they walked out of the lobby. "How was the dinner party?" "It was fine, but I was anxious to leave."
Brad arched his eyebrow. "You were?"
"Yes," she squeezed his hand and captured his eye. "I wanted to be with you."
Feeling elated, Brad mentally pinched himself. He was with one of the most attractive women he had ever seen, and she seemed to genuinely like him.
"Where are we going for dinner?" she inquired when they reached busy Kalakaua Avenue.
Brad's thoughts returned to the moment, stepping around Leigh Ann to the concrete curb. "I thought we would stroll down to the Moana, and have a slow, relaxing dinner."
"That sounds wonderful."
Brad glanced at Leigh Ann. "I reserved a quiet table with a view over the Banyan Courtyard."
"You must have some influence."
"Not actually," Brad squirmed.
She gave him a suspicious look. "You just called the Moana, and requested prime seating at the height of the dinner hour?"
"I told the maitre d'," Brad responded, averting his eyes, "that we're on our honeymoon."
"Our honeymoon?" Leigh Ann asked, wide-eyed.
Brad chuckled. "Well, there are two definitions. One includes a period of harmony in a new relationship."
Smiling, she shook her head. "Did you reserve a honeymoon suite, too?"
"I thought about it."
Leigh Ann laughed out loud. "Incredible."
They walked up to the elegant "First Lady of Waikiki" and entered the hotel lobby. Feeling a little awkward, Brad led Leigh Ann to the main dining room. The Ship's Tavern was one of his favorite restaurants on the island.
"Austin," Brad announced nervously to the maitre d'. "Eight fifteen."
"Ah, yes," the pleasant man replied. "Mister and Missus Austin. Right this way, please."
Leigh Ann darted a look at Brad but remained quiet as they proceeded to their table. After being seated, the maitre d' congratulated the couple on their marriage, then returned to his station. She tilted her head and smiled. "Let me hear your explanation as to the reason we aren't wearing wedding rings."
Brad took in the view of the spectacular sunset. "I haven't thought of one… yet."
She tried not to laugh. "Okay, Captain Austin, it's your turn to tell me all about yourself, and how many other wives you have."
Relieved when a cocktail waitress arrived, Brad ordered an aperitif for each of them.
"Well, I had a normal childhood, if you describe normal as going to seven different schools in twelve years. I enjoyed attending Annapolis, after the first year." Brad paused. "Are you sure you want to hear all this?"
"Yes, I'm positive."
"My degree is in aeronautical engineering, which helped me when I went through flight school." He stopped talking while their drinks were served.
Remembering that Brad had avoided discussing his family, Leigh Ann cautiously approached a question. "Brad, why did you join the marines when you come from a navy background?"
He closed his eyes for a second, thinking about the number of times he had had to answer the same question. "I had watched the relationships of other fathers and sons who served in the same service. Many times — too many times — it's like working in your father's business. I wanted to be in a separate service, so no one could infer that my father had any influence on my career."
Brad stopped again when their waiter arrived. After ordering dinner, Brad captured Leigh Ann's eyes. "May I ask you a personal question?"
She looked wary. "You can ask anything you like, but I may elect not to answer."
Brad set his glass down. "With your looks, intelligence, and personality, there must be a man in your life."
"There was," Leigh Ann responded, turning serious, "but that episode in my life is over."
"Episode?"
Leigh Ann was silent a moment, blocking out an extremely painful experience. "Brad," she began, "I was engaged to a medical student. A handsome, romantic, witty guy… and now I'm not engaged, thank God."
Confused, Brad remained quiet while he sipped his drink.
"That's why," Leigh Ann continued, holding her emotions in check, "I came to Hawaii with my parents. They wanted me to get away… and let my pride heal. That's why my father scrutinized you so closely this morning."
"Obviously, I am curious," Brad said in a gentle tone. "What happened?"
Their dinner arrived, taking the edge off the uncomfortable conversation. After selecting a bottle of chardonnay to accompany the truffled Bresse poultry and fillet of turbot in champagne sauce, Brad paused while the waiter opened the bottle.
After sampling the wine, Brad waited until their glasses were filled and they were alone again. "A toast," he said cheerily, raising his glass.
Leigh Ann smiled, lifting her wine.
"To a special evening," Brad said, reaching out to clasp Leigh Ann's left hand, "with a very special lady."
She squeezed his fingers when their glasses met. "To a special man… who made it all possible."
Brad touched her glass again and released her hand. They ate quietly, exchanging small talk. After dessert, Brad settled the check and they repaired to the Banyan Veranda fOr an after-dinner drink.