A similar expression is on Tolly’s face.
As he leads her down the dock, she leans closer. “Does Marco speak English?” she asks.
“I should hope so,” Tolly replies. “He’s an ex-Navy Seal.”
“Oh,” she says. “Have I just insulted him?”
Tolly actually laughs out loud. “On the contrary, I think he’s just fallen a little bit in love with you.”
“If he speaks English, why did you speak Spanish to him?” Anna’s brow crinkles.
“He is helping me practise.” Tolly stops in front of a big grey SUV. “This is my car. I’ll take you to your hotel.”
But Anna realises she doesn’t want the day to end. Not yet. “Perhaps we could go somewhere?”
“You’re tired,” Tolly says. “You fell asleep on the boat.”
“Precisely. I’ve just had a nap. Besides, I’m hungry.”
A slight smile hovers on his lips. He nods to the end of the carpark. A taco truck is pulled up, its pale white light highlighting its complete lack of customers.
As they draw near, Anna notices the truck is old, which is not in itself a problem. But there are two servers in the truck and neither of them is wearing gloves or hats.
“Are you sure?” she asks Tolly.
“Street food is big in LA,” he says. “The quality rivals restaurants.”
His words are full of an infectious confidence, although Anna is still reticent enough to order a vegetarian black bean taco. Tolly goes for seafood. There is a rapid exchange in Spanish between the two servers and Anna looks at Tolly. He shrugs; it was obviously too fast for him to translate. Anna is heartened to see the server wash his hands before cooking their food. Hers comes first, followed a few minutes later by Tolly’s. The other server seems to be moving about the van, packing things away. Sure enough, as she and Tolly wander across to a bench facing the marina, the truck closes its side. By the time her food is cool enough to eat, the truck has left the area.
“I had fun today,” she says, looking out at the neon lights reflected in the water. It is such a contrast that the beach on Santa Catalina Island already seems like a dream. A fleeting experience that happened in another lifetime.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.
“Probably dying.” She smiles up at him. “Then I’m on a late flight out.”
“I could pick you up tomorrow? Take you out again.”
Anna laughs. “I don’t think I could survive another date with you quite so soon.” Then she realises what she has said and bites her lip. “Not that this was a date.”
Tolly is silent as he finishes off his food and Anna thinks she has blown it. “Anyway, haven’t you got things to do? Places to go? People to see?” She tries to keep her voice light-hearted, to put herself back in the friend-zone. Cool, calm friendly Anna. Nothing to see here. No inconvenient yearnings. She almost wants to laugh at herself. She has watched so many men try to row themselves back from this same position with her, and it has never worked. The red flag would go up and slowly but surely she would withdraw. Once they have shown their hand, they can never be trusted again. Everything from that point forwards would always be tainted with the knowledge that their endgame was to take her to bed.
“There’s an announcement party tomorrow night that’s non-negotiable.” He shrugs and Anna is surprised by his next words, “But if you’re not up for anything energetic, we could do a drive along the Pacific Highway in the morning? Maybe have lunch in Santa Barbara?”
“That sounds lovely,” she says, keeping her words low key, almost uninvested. “I’d like that.” Perhaps she hasn’t blown it. Or perhaps he missed it. No. That’s just wishful thinking. He had seen it but decided to ignore it. She tries to imagine it from his side, living here far from his homeland and his family. Their backgrounds are not dissimilar. After all, he dated her sister, if any proof is needed. She closes her mind against the thought. Perhaps there is a familiarity to her that is comforting, worth overlooking her faux pas.
Tolly wolfs his food down, but Anna eats slowly. The food is tasty and far more filling than she expected. In the end, she folds the wrapping back over half of it.
“Finished?” Tolly takes it from her hand and walks over to the nearest bin. It’s overflowing, so he continues along the waterside. When he returns, his hands are in his pockets. “Let’s get you back,” he says. “Make sure you are ready for tomorrow.”
This is it. The end of a perfect day. Anna walks beside him, close enough to be familiar, not close enough to risk touch. If she does that, there is no overlooking it. He walks her around to the passenger side door. The car automatically unlocks, but Tolly doesn’t open the door. He stands by the handle.
“What if it was?” he asks.
“Was what?”
“A date.”
Anna’s eyes scour his face, but there are no clues there. Whichever way she looks at it, it appears as a trap. So she sidesteps. “It would have been the best date I’ve had. No- ne ever gave me an eagle before.”
