He looked across the table
to the elegant bar situated in the center of the restaurant. Andy had forgotten
how much it dominated the main dining area at The Ivy. Crystal glasses hung
from racks, glittering in the soft overhead lighting.
If only one of those crystal
glasses could be sitting in front of him filled with a fine wine, or better
yet, a nice glass of scotch over ice. Stop it, Andy!
Being a recovering addict was
never easy, but sitting at a table overlooking a bar stocked with every
imaginable delicacy was almost more than he could bear.
He turned his head and gave
Vanessa his full attention. “What do you do when you’re not on holiday in
London, toying with the hearts of unsuspecting rock stars?”
“Toying?” Vanessa placed her
hand in front of her mouth, feigning shock at his accusation. “You make me
sound so vindictive.”
“Well, aren’t you?” Andy leaned
closer and lowered his head to look her in the eye. “Toying with me?”
“I’m merely enjoying a lovely
day of shopping with a handsome man, and a fine dinner at his favorite
restaurant.” She lowered her eyes and pouted in true Southern-belle fashion.
“Although, I am disappointed that you never took me to see the garden.”
“The garden?” Andy cocked his
head to the side.
“Yes, you said we were going to
visit the Covent Garden.”
“We’ve been here all day,” Andy
said.
“Where are the flowers?”
“They stopped selling flowers
in the 1970s, I think.”
“Then why do they call it a
garden?” Vanessa asked.
“Because…” Andy stammered on
his words. “I dunno. That’s just what it’s called. This area used to be
well-known for its wholesale flowers. Now it’s just a very large shopping area,
but it used to supply flowers to the whole country.”
“Well, I’ll expect you to bring
me flowers the next time you take me on a date. It’s only fair since you didn’t
bring me to a garden.”
“I suppose that can be
arranged.” Andy reached over and took her hand, giving it a little squeeze.
“But first I need to know about you. For starters, what’s your favorite
flower?”
“That is for you to figure
out.” Vanessa walked her fingers up his arm and then poked him on his lips. Two
lips? Maybe she likes tulips!
“Okay, no more stalling,” Andy
scolded her. “Tell me more about Vanessa. Do you have a job?”
“Yes, I do.” Vanessa batted her
eyelashes.
“You’re not going to make me
guess that too. Are you?” Oh, crap. Another ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. “Let me
rephrase that. What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a hairstylist.” Vanessa
reached across and laced her fingers into Andy’s hair. He almost moaned
audibly. “And I am dying to get my hands on that mop of yours!”
“Mop?” Andy feigned insult. “I
am a rock star. There is nothing wrong with me having long hair.”
“How long has it been since a
stylist has gotten her hands on you?” Vanessa raised her eyebrows.
“About fifteen seconds ago, and
I wish she’d put her hands right back into my hair.”
“I will not touch your hair
again until I have a pair of scissors in my hand,” she said.
Andy looked around as if to
find a pair of scissors.
“And before you get any ideas
about asking our waiter for a pair of scissors, I’ll add a caveat. I will not
cut your hair unless you are sitting in my salon… in Nashville.”
“What time does our flight
leave, again?” Andy leaned forward and rested his elbow on the table, staring
intently into Vanessa’s eyes.
“My flight leaves in two days,
well,” Vanessa looked at her watch, “a day and a half, actually.”
“Well then, you’re going to
have to go out with me again tomorrow,” Andy said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I haven’t had a chance
to kiss you yet.”
“Is that so?” Vanessa leaned
forward on her elbow opposite him and smirked. Her face was close enough to his
that it would have taken little effort to close the distance and connect. But
he didn’t. Torturing her was almost as much fun as her torturing him.
“Do you folks need a few more
minutes with the menus?” their server interrupted. Andy and Vanessa didn’t
flinch.
“I think I’ve decided what I want….”
Andy said.
“I’ll bet you have,” Vanessa
drawled in her adorable Southern accent. She broke eye contact first and smiled
sweetly at the server. “What would you suggest? What’s your favorite thing on
the menu?”
“Uh…” The server cleared his
throat and gulped, clearly affected by her flirting. Andy almost laughed out
loud, glad he wasn’t the only man in the room completely entranced with
Vanessa. “Well, we’re famous for our Shepherd’s Pie.”
“I don’t really care what
you’re famous for,” Vanessa said, waving her hand dismissively. “I wanna know
what’s your favorite.”
“I really love the seared
scallops.” The waiter smiled down at Vanessa and then glanced at Andy and
looked away.
“Then that is what I’ll have.”
Vanessa sat back and crossed her arms, winking over at Andy. He didn’t release
her gaze as he gave his request to the server.
“I’d like a steak, medium
rare.”
“Ribeye, fillet, or sirloin?”
“Fillet,” Andy said. “No…
ribeye. No, fillet. Yeah, I’ll stick with a fillet.”
“I thought you said you already
knew what you wanted.” Vanessa raised her eyebrows.
“For dinner, I want a fillet.”
Andy felt Vanessa’s foot tickle his calf muscle under the table, and he almost
jumped out of his chair. He cleared his throat and looked up at the server. “With
heritage potatoes, please.”
“As you wish, sir.” The waiter
scribbled on his little pad of paper.
Andy shook his head
infinitesimally and smirked at Vanessa.
“Would the two of you like any
starters?”
“Want to try the fried duck
egg?” Andy asked Vanessa.
“That sounds disgusting.”
Vanessa’s sweet tone could have easily substituted ‘delightful’ for
‘disgusting’ and not miss a beat.
“How about a nice spinach
salad?” Andy suggested.
“Much better,” she said.
When the server was finished
getting all the details for their selections of dressings and sides, he offered
them the perfect wine to go with their choices of meals. Andy politely
declined, and the man left them alone.
“You are in so much trouble,
you little vixen,” Andy murmured, a cheesy grin hovering on his face. “You are
going to be the death of me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to kill
you,” Vanessa said, placing her hands in her lap and sitting up straight. “You
haven’t even kissed me yet.”
“I’m afraid to kiss you now.”
Vanessa’s expression shifted
from teasing to smoldering. “You won’t be when the time is right.”
This time when Andy fought to
stay in his seat, it wasn’t due to shock but pure emotional desire. He knew in
that moment he was no longer tempted by anything behind that bar. All he wanted
was to see her soft smile across the table for the rest of his life.
