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“I mean, do you eat like this all the time? How do you stay so lean?” she asks, frowning suddenly before remarking she only has to look at food to gain weight.
I half shrug before I feel a little confused by what she’s just said.
“You make it sound like you have a problem,” I remark, meaning like my own pasta cravings. Trying not to smile until I see how serious she suddenly looks.
“Very funny,” she says dryly, looking hurt.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I tell her, wondering what’s gotten into her now.
I thought we were getting on great until she opened that damned phone of hers.
“You don’t have to sugar coat it for me, Jack,” she says. “You’ve been more than sweet all day but let’s be honest. An older guy like you and a chunky girl like me half your age? No wonder people were staring.”
“Olivia, stop it,” I tell her firmly. I don’t like what she’s saying about herself and I don’t even understand what she’s getting at.
I guess it’s my turn to feel hurt, I’d forgotten I’m older than her. I really had. All day she’s just made me feel so alive. I never even stopped to remember the age difference.
Mario hovers near the table, but sensing the mood he’s reluctant to get my attention.
“Eh, scuzzi Jack? Telephone, your agent. She says it’s important,” he murmurs as quietly as he can without coming closer.
I nod to let him know I’m coming, and wiping my mouth with a napkin I wonder if it’s the storm that’s making everything so crazy all of a sudden.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Olivia, making sure I can see her while I take the phone call behind the restaurant’s bar.
“Jack? I figured you’d be there. Weren’t answering your cell. Figures… Listen. The pilot won’t fly you out tonight, too much bad weather and I just checked the airlines, same story. You’re stuck there until the morning at the earliest, tomorrow or the next day at the latest.”
It’s Denise. Straight to the point as usual. If she’d let me know this a half hour ago I would have been a happier man.
But the thought of Olivia and me almost fighting over nothing now, and having to tell her we’re stuck in Hollywood? I hadn’t bargained on that.
So much for my romantic evening for two.
“Jack, you there?”
“Uh yeah, sure Mom,” I tell her, hearing her click her tongue.
“Uh oh. You only ever call me Mom when something’s the matter. What happened Jack?” she asks, sounding more like my mechanic than my own mother. But that’s just how she’s always been.
“I just wished we’d checked the weather forecast is all,” I lie. Not feeling like explaining everything to Denise, to mom right now.
Definitely not right now.
“Uh huh,” she says in that same knowing tone. “Well, can’t do much about it for now. The hotel’s got two rooms, opposite each other on the same floor so you and what’s her name have a roof over your heads at least,” she tells me.
“It’s Olivia, Mom. Her name is Olivia,” I hear myself almost growl, gripping the phone tighter.
“Okay okay, don’t bite my head off. Sorry, you’re stuck there with her, I thought you two might’ve hit it off until I heard she was just a kid. Pity really.”
“I gotta go, Denise,” I tell her, wanting off the phone before I say something I’ll regret.
“Okay, Jack. I’ll call you in the morning, let you know if things change-”
Hanging up without another word, I need to get back to Olivia, more determined than ever now not to make something out of nothing.
I don’t want to argue with her, I want to be with her. I want us to be happy.
This storm, the hotel. It’s the perfect recipe for us to get to know each other better.
Fortunately, by the time I get back to our table, she seems to have come to the same conclusion.
“Can we start over Jack? I mean, back to before the part where I was being so stupidly defensive, please,” she says, scrunching up her face and wincing, murmuring sorry before I take her hands in mine and bring them up to my lips.
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Olivia. And yeah, let’s take two, shall we? Let’s not argue about anything ever again.”
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia
Before I even sense the beginnings of our shared food coma, before we get through what’s been the best meal of my life, I just know somehow that we’re not going home tonight.
The storm outside seems to get worse as the evening goes on, and a couple of times the lights in the restaurant flicker, making the diners gasp and our host cross himself as he looks up.
But Jack chooses his moment, and soon after his phone call lets me know the situation with the flight, about the two available rooms in the adjoining hotel.
