..
Oh, Lord. I was babbling again. Damn that
Sam. She'd totally thrown me for a loop. Before I
could stop myself, I reached for a sourdough roll
and smeared it with butter. Now Andrew was
going to think I was a butter-slathering blabbermouth. Oh, well. Who cared? He wasn't interested in me anyway.
Thank heavens the waiter showed up to take
our order and put an end to my inane chatter. Andrew and I both ordered the Patioburgers
with fries.
"That's what I like about you," Andrew said
when the waiter had gone. "You eat like a real
person." He watched as I shoveled down my buttered roll. "So many women I've dated spend
the entire meal pushing three shards of lettuce
around their plate and then say they're stuffed.
That's no fun.
"So," he said, taking a roll from the basket.
"You seeing anybody?"
Whoa. I almost choked on my sourdough.
Maybe this was a date after all.
"No, nobody on a regular basis."
If you don't count the Domino's delivery guy.
"Me neither," he said, smearing his roll with
butter.
"What about Sam? I thought you two were
dating."
"We were, but that's all over now."
I glanced over at Sam's table. Her lunch companion was chattering away a mile a minute, but
Sam was staring past her and watching us with
eagle eyes. Maybe Andrew thought it was all
over, but it sure didn't look like Sam got the
message.
"Anyhow," he said, "I've been wanting to ask
you out. But ..."
He stared down at his roll and hesitated.
But what? What's stopping you? Go ahead! Here I
am! Ready and available!
but I'm not sure it would be fair to you."
"Why wouldn't it be fair?"
"You see, I'm only going to be in L.A. for a
short time, and then I've got to go back to
Stuttgart."
"You're going back to Germany?" I said, not
bothering to hide my disappointment.
"I'm afraid so. And while I'm here I'm barely
going to have a minute to myself. This project
Sam and I are working on is taking up practically all my time."
"I'll bet she is-I mean, I'll bet it is."
He took a bite of his roll. A tiny dot of butter
clung to his cheek.
Only Andrew could look sexy with butter on
his cheek.
"Having loaded you down with warnings," he
said, "I'm hoping you'll still want to have dinner
with me."
He shot me a heart-melting grin.
No, I told myself, absolutely not. Why start
something that couldn't possibly go anywhere? I
knew what would happen. We'd go out and I'd
fall head over heels in love and he'd go off to
Stuttgart and meet some blond fraulein and forget all about me. Prozac was right. I'd just wind
up getting hurt. Scrumptious as he was, there
was no way I was going out with this guy.
So I hardened my heart, looked him straight
in the eye, and said, "Sure."
What can I say? Andrew was like a pint of
Chunky Monkey in my freezer. Impossible to resist.
Our burgers came and I didn't bother to pretend I was a dainty eater. I dove into mine with
gusto. Hadn't Andrew just said he liked a gal
with a hearty appetite? I would've liked the opportunity to impress him with my dessert-eating
skills, but there was no time for dessert. The in stant our waiter whisked away our lunch dishes,
Sam popped up at our table, reminding Andrew
that they still had lots of work to do at the bank.
. . . .. .. . .... . .
Andrew quickly paid the bill and drove me to
Wheezy, where we phoned for a tow truck and
sat back to wait.
There we were, just the two of us, as snug as
two bugs in a BMW. I should've been in seventh
heaven. But instead I was suddenly flooded with
doubts. What was I doing with this guy, anyway?
We were worlds apart. He was upper crust and I
was pizza crust. Sure, he was cuter than cute,
but what if, underneath that yummy exterior, he
was Sam's counterpart, an elitist snob?
"How about a strawberry?" he said, interrupting my thoughts. He reached for a box of strawberries in the backseat.
"Thanks," I said, plucking one from the box.
"They look delicious."
"I bought 'em from one of those