FIC: "It's A Date" (Orlando Bloom, Karl Urban, Harry Sinclair, Josh Hartnett, Cooper)
Title: "It's A Date" 1/1
Authors: Brenda & Jo (azewewish & idiosyncratic)
Featuring: Orlando Bloom, Karl Urban, Harry Sinclair, Josh Hartnett (Cooper)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And Orlando's not dating anyone mentioned in this fic.
Summary: Orlando takes Cooper out to dinner, and gains a new friend.
Takes place a few days after The First Rule Of Sharing.
Orlando cursed again as he discarded yet another shirt and added it to the growing pile on the floor. Too dressy, too, well, date-y. And since this wasn't a date (no matter what Josh and Karl kept teasing), he didn't want to send the wrong impression. However, it wasn't like he could stroll into a place like Cecconi's in cut-offs, flops and a t-shirt, either. They'd laugh him out the door, aide to the head of the Council or not.
"Black jeans, boots, and the navy pin-striped oxford you got last week. Not too dressy, not too casual," Karl said, strolling into the room with an amused smile, Harry by his side. "It'll send exactly the right signal."
"You're putting far too much effort into a simple dinner, you know," Harry added, brushing a light kiss to the tattoo on back of his neck. It still amazed Orlando how appreciative and touched Harry had looked when he'd seen it the first time. (He could admit, if only to himself, that he still got a little thrill just from thinking about it.)
"I know, that's what's driving me mental," he sighed.
Karl trailed light fingers along his arm and looked at him in the mirror's reflection. "I haven't seen you this nervous over a woman since your first dinner date with Monica."
"Yeah, well," Orlando said, and shrugged. "Sometimes you just know when someone deserves the effort."
Karl and Harry exchanged a look that Orlando caught in the mirror.
"Oi, I'm not in love with her!" He whirled to face them, glaring at their amused expressions. "And I'm not planning on falling in love with her."
"See that you don't," Karl said, dropping a light kiss on his lips. "Otherwise, Aubrey might have words with you."
"Aubrey...what?" Orlando stared as Karl vanished into the walk-in closet. Then he looked at Harry. "What's that mean?"
"It means that Karl is fucking with you," Harry replied, chuckling as he picked up the shirt Karl had suggested and held it out.
"You don't think it's too much dark?" Orlando asked as he shrugged into the shirt. "Maybe I could go with the pale grey oxford that I got when I got this one. Or maybe the yellow silk."
"Definitely not the yellow silk," Karl declared, appearing with the black jeans and his Cesare Paciotti boots and matching belt. "Unless you really do think it's a date."
"It's not a date." Orlando grabbed the jeans and slid them on with another glare. "Are you trying to get me in trouble with Josh or something?"
"No, I'm just trying to ascertain why you're acting like this is a date when you keep claiming it isn't." Karl handed Orlando the boots and the belt, then went rummaging through the watches on his dresser.
"The Movado," Harry suggested, not moving. "It's a nice watch without being ostentatious."
"Just because you own stock in the company..." Karl grinned, but picked it up.
Orlando took the watch and fastened it around his wrist, then looked at himself in the mirror. Without a word, he shrugged right back out of the shirt and went into the closet for the pale gray one.
"My question," Harry said, as Orlando re-emerged with the new one half-buttoned, "is does Cooper think it's a date?"
Orlando stopped. He was pretty sure he hadn't really implied it was going to be a date. Just two people having dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by dancing. Two people... Fuck. He dropped onto the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. "Fuck."
Harry, to his credit, didn't say a word, but Orlando could feel the amusement rolling through their bond. Karl, however, burst out laughing. "Little one, it's alright if it's a date. There is nothing wrong with taking a pretty girl out and showing her a good time."
"Oh, piss off," Orlando groaned, just resisting the urge to drag his fingers through his hair. "It can't be a date. Josh'll kill me!"
"I'm pretty sure Josh said he'd only kill you if you broke her heart or slept with her." Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Are you planning on doing either one of those things?"
"What?! No, for fuck's sake, no. I mean, she's beautiful and all, but..." Orlando finished buttoning the shirt and straightened. "I'm not sleeping with anyone outside this room, and I'm definitely not planning on breaking anyone's heart." Including mine, he thought, but didn't say it out loud. Given how well they knew him, they probably knew it already.
"Then Josh will be fine," Karl said. "Be your normal charming self and don't worry about the rest."
"Think of her as you would Katie," Harry suggested. "Only less likely to ask you embarrassing questions about your health."
Orlando made a rude noise. "Not likely," he said, studying himself in the mirror. "I think of Katie as a great big pain in my arse. I highly doubt Cooper's going to be like that."
"I'm sure Katie is thrilled at your assessment of her character."
"Oh, she thanked me for the compliment when I told her," Orlando admitted. "And then she sat me on and forced me to take my meds."
"I'm sure there was a struggle involved," Karl drily said.
"Not much of one. She's mean as a snake," Orlando said. "Plus it didn't help my cause that she has fangs and I don't."
"That would do it."
"Anyway," Orlando said, choosing to ignore Harry's comment. It wouldn't do to get him started. They'd be here all night with the back and forth. "How do I look?"
"You look very nice," Karl said, coming over to straighten his collar. "Cooper will be properly impressed."
Orlando pointed at Karl and shook his finger. Then he scooped up the keys to the Viper and tucked his wallet into his pocket. "I won't be late."
Harry brushed a kiss across Orlando's forehead. "Be late. Enjoy yourself and show her a good time."
Show her a good time. He could do that, he thought, as he said his goodbyes and bounded down the steps and to the garage. Josh was waiting for him, leaning against the hood of the Viper. He looked pretty relaxed, but Orlando wasn't fooled. He knew how deceptive appearances could be.
"I don't guess you came out to just say goodbye," he said, strolling up to the car.
"Sort of," Josh shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't come out to threaten you with grievous bodily harm, however, if you're worried about that."
"That's, uh, positive." And highly unexpected, but Orlando didn't say that out loud. He didn't want Josh to change his mind.
"You look alright," Josh declared, looking him over. "Nice, but not too flashy. I approve. Just make sure you keep the tone of the evening like your outfit and you should be fine. If you go all Karl on her and try to impress her, she's just gonna laugh at you."
"I'm not trying to impress her," Orlando said, refusing to point out that he was more likely to act like Harry, even though he wasn't exactly sure what that would entail.
"But you're taking the Viper?"
"You'd rather I take the Bentley?"
"Good point," Josh said, glancing over at the car in question. Then he looked back at Orlando and straightened. "Just a word of advice. Don't ask too many personal questions. Cooper'll talk about herself if she wants to, but if she doesn't, it would take an act of Congress and direct intervention from God to make her open up."
"Duly noted," Orlando said. He opened the car door, then paused to look at Josh. "Relax, Dad. I know the boundaries, okay? I just want to make her smile, so stop worrying."
"Part and parcel of the territory, dude," Josh smiled, then stepped in to give Orlando a one-armed bro hug. "And take care of yourself, too. I don't want to have to nurse your broken heart, either."
"No broken hearts on either side, I swear," Orlando said, returning the smile.
The Viper was a little flashy, he decided, as he headed down Mulholland to Laurel Canyon, but what other car could he take? The Bentley was definitely out, as was the Maybach, and he was pretty sure Harry would kill him (no matter what he said to the contrary) if he even thought about taking the '55 Jaguar XK out of the garage. Which also left out the '48 Aston Martin DB1. And it wasn't a Range Rover kind of night (not to mention, Josh had sort of appropriated it as his main car of choice, saying it was the least ostentatious of the lot, although he tended to stick to the motorbikes), and the '64 GTO really wasn't his speed (although Harry looked right at home behind the wheel, not surprisingly, since it was his car.) Maybe he'd take Dom or Josh car shopping with him for something a little more low-key. He definitely couldn't take Karl, who thought any car that cost less than the GNP of some small countries wasn't a car worth driving, or Harry, who tended to think any car built after 1978 was a waste of time and money.
He was still musing over what he should get when he pulled up to the valet outside Cecconi's. It was a typically gorgeous night, he thought, and wondered if Cooper would be up for dining on the front patio. She seemed like the type that liked fresh air and eating al fresco. He decided to take a gamble and asked the host for a patio table when he gave his name, and used the short walk to take a deep breath to calm suddenly jittery nerves. It's just Cooper, he reminded himself, just two friends having dinner.
He'd never hear the end of it if he fell for her. Not that he was planning on it.
Which didn't help, really, and he barely resisted the urge to get his iPhone out to call Dave for some strategic advice when he saw Cooper heading his way.
She looked amazing. Like a pin-up in a cream-colored dress with a pretty orange-floral print on it that both flattered and contrasted her dark skin. It also accentuated her waist, swirled around her legs when she walked, and managed to show off all her curves while still being relatively modest. Her hair was pulled back in a simple twist that emphasized stunning brown eyes and sharp cheekbones. When she got to the table, Orlando stood and held out her chair.
"You look very pretty," he said, deciding not to comment on how nice she smelled. That, he thought, might be a little much.
"Thank you," she replied, flashing a beautiful smile. "You look very nice yourself."
And just like that, Orlando was glad he'd opted for the pale gray shirt. They'd look much nicer dancing after dinner than if he'd worn the other shirt. And speaking of dancing... "I hope you don't mind," he said, "but Elijah and Christina are going to meet us at Cicada later."
"Was this little man's idea or yours?"
"Uh, mine," Orlando said slowly, sinking into his chair across from her. Hopefully that was the correct answer - she didn't look too happy at the moment.
Apparently, it was, because she visibly relaxed. "In that case, I'm thrilled to have them join us. The more the merrier."
"Wait, who's little man? You don't mean Josh, do you?"
"It's a nickname," she explained, flipping her cloth napkin over her lap in a single, graceful movement. "Sort of like calling the strong man at the circus Tiny."
"Right." It made an ironic sort of sense, considering that she only came up to Josh's shoulder without heels. "He's been behaving, though, I mean, about tonight. I mean, he hasn't gone all overprotective or anything." Much, he added to himself, but he was trying to put Josh in a good light here.
"Good. I love that boy like a brother, but sometimes he takes the position a little too seriously, if you catch me. I'm glad you didn't let him scare you off."
"If you knew the guy I work for, you'd realize I don't scare easy. Josh is nothing compared to Viggo." But then, Viggo was not only in his own category, he was in his own game.
"That bad?" she asked, looking at him in concern.
"He's actually a really cool boss," Orlando said, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. "But he's head of the Council, so he can get pretty scary when he wants to."
She gave him a thoughtful look. "That's right, you do move and shake in some pretty impressive circles."
Orlando shrugged and waited until their server had taken their drink order and left again. "It's a job. I'm still the dork who had to have two other people help him get dressed tonight."
Her gaze warmed, and Orlando could hear the laughter in her voice when she answered. "It took three of you to pick out that outfit?"
"It did," he confessed. "I've been accused of being worse than a girl, but after seeing the pile of clothes tonight, I think I believe it."
"Honey, I am flattered, but you didn't have to go through all that effort for me."
"My Nan would come from the grave and have my hide if she found out I showed up for a date not looking my best. Not that this is a date," he added hastily, cursing himself for his inability to actually think before he spoke.
"Orli - it is alright if I call you that? - sugar, you have got to take a deep breath and relax. I promise my knickers aren't gonna twist up if you call this a date. What else would you call taking someone out to dinner and dancing?"
"Um...I have no idea. I'm not exactly experienced in taking people out."
"You are adorable," she stated, and leaned forward. "Back when you were single, did you ever get jittery over taking out a man or is this simply because I'm a woman?"
"Actually..." He could just feel his cheeks turning pink. "I was usually the one being taken out, so yeah, this is new."
"Well, then, we'll just have to make sure this is a first date to remember," she said with a smile. "And give you lots of stories to relate to little man when you get home tonight, because I know he's gonna be waiting up for you."
"You realize he may try to kill me in my sleep if I have stories," Orlando said, only partly joking.
"Only if you try to sleep with me," she replied, then burst out laughing at what he was sure was a horrified expression on his face. "Oh, sugar, I know him, and I'd bet that he made you swear to keep your hands to yourself, but my mama taught me to never take a sucker bet."
"Your mum," Orlando said, clearing his throat and praying he wasn't as red as he felt, "sounds like a smart woman."
"Smartest woman I know, aside from my meemaw, and they don't come tougher than her." She reached across the table to pat his hand as their server came back around with a mojito for her and a screwdriver for him. "You just get Josh outta your head tonight. I'm betting that very delectable vampire you both share'll be making sure he's not thinking about us."
"Karl is, uh, sort of an expert at distraction."
"So Aubrey tells me."
If possible, he could feel his cheeks getting even redder at the mention of Aubrey's name. "I, uh, guess she would know."
"Does it bother you?" she asked, studying him out of alert eyes as she took a sip from her drink. "That you have to share Karl with so many people? Josh doesn't seem to mind, but he seems to be joining in as often as not, and he's never been the monogamous type. Could be why he and Karl are so good together. Where do you fall?"
"Somewhere in the middle, I guess," Orlando admitted. "Sharing Karl doesn't bother me...well, it doesn't now. In the beginning I wasn't quite so calm about it. And I really wasn't calm about Josh." Even though they were close now, it had been a long, hard road getting there.
"And do you join in when Karl brings home a woman?"
"I haven't, but it's not a big secret that I don't have much, um, experience with women," he said, wondering if he was going to go through dinner with a permanent blush.
"So you're saying it's something you might be interested in, once you've got a few more notches on your belt?"
He didn't need any experience with women to know that was a loaded question. "I guess that would depend on the situation," he finally said, hoping he wasn't putting a damper on the whole evening. "I mean, I've learned to never say never, but it's not something I'm going out looking for, y'know? I think it would take something special, though, because I'm not big on one night stands."
"Does this mean you're asking Aubrey out again?"
"Uh." Yeah, he'd sort of walked right into that one. He swallowed, and tried to figure out how he was going to extricate himself without making matters worse. One day, he'd learn to think before he opened his mouth. "I, uh, maybe? Should I?"
"Well, now, that's up to you. Although it seems to me like you've got plenty hopping on your plate, if what Josh says is true. Not that he's given too much in the way of details, but one would think two vampires would be enough for anyone."
"They are. I mean, it's...they're everything, don't, uh, get me wrong, it's just..." God, how could he explain his incredibly complicated relationship with Harry and Karl (to say nothing of Dave) with someone outside their closely knit circle? "They've been together for a really long time, and have other relationships, and..."
"Honey, you don't have to explain yourself to me, as cute as it is to see you all flustered. As long as you're happy with whatever choices you're making and you're honest with your partners, it's all gravy."
"See, that's what I think, too," Orlando said, more than a little relieved that she seemed to understand. "As long as you're communicating and everyone is on the same page, then it's cool."
"Which is exactly how it should be. And I'm guessing they're okay with you exploring your options if you're here with me."
"They are," he said, unable to keep a pleased smile off his face. "In fact, Harry and Karl were both encouraging me to be out late tonight."
"Then we'll just have to take his advice," she said. "And I know you're gonna say something about Josh'll whoop your tail if you come home late, but I think I'd listen to your vampires on this one."
"I think you're right." He relaxed, deciding to just go with the flow and see where the night took them. "After all, we can't have a proper date if we're worried about turning into pumpkins at midnight, right?"
"Everyone knows all the fun stuff happens after midnight, anyway," she replied, and sat back. "I think we're gonna be good friends, you and I. You don't strike me as the type to let life get you down."
"I guess when you've bollocksed things up as much as I have, it's easier to look on the bright side." Still, he couldn't help but be pleased at the compliment.
"If messing up your life was an Olympic sport, I'm pretty sure we'd be sharing that gold medal."
There was a slight note of bitterness in her voice, but Orlando chose to ignore it for now. He remembered Josh's words of advice to him about getting her to open up about her past. "I dunno," he said, trying to make his tone light, "you haven't been bonded to two vampires and involved them in your epic screw-ups. I think that should net me some extra points."
"That sounds like that would take a certain amount of talent," she agreed. "But you seem happy enough now."
"It hasn't been easy. I made a pretty monumental mistake a few months back, and it took a lot to get back from that. But I think I'm in a pretty good place right now."
"That's real nice," she said, smiling. "And it's good that you can own up to it. Not too many men out there can own up to their mistakes."
Something in her voice told him she was speaking from personal experience.
"It wasn't anyone's fault by mine. I'm just sorry I dragged other people into it." He took a swallow of his drink and studied her. The easy way she carried herself was impressive, and he felt he could sit there and watch her all night. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get her on the dance floor, and he just prayed that he remembered everything Karl had shown him about the old-fashioned dances. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of her. "So tell me how a pretty girl with a voice like yours ends up in L.A. singing jazz in small clubs."
"Oh, well now, that's a mighty boring story, but if you wanna hear it, I suppose I could tell you." Their server dropped off their salads and she seemed to take the time to gather her thoughts. "You ever been to Mississippi?"
Orlando shook his head. "Been to New Orleans. And Atlanta, for business. But that's about it."
"And fine cities they are, but sometimes a girl needs to see the world outside her back porch." She popped a slice of cucumber in her mouth, and swallowed. "Anyway, I grew up in Meridian, which is right there on the Alabama border. My mama and meemaw own a hardware store, mostly caters to the folks that work on the Naval base. They raised me - never knew my daddy, but to hear meemaw tell it, I didn't miss much - and I spent a lot of my childhood when I wasn't at the store helping out at the church, singing in the choir. And when I wasn't there, I was with my uncle, Caleb, who runs the local jazz joint. Well, the only jazz joint, I should say. Anyway, that's where my love of jazz and blues comes from."
"So, how'd you get to L.A.? Why not New Orleans?"
"Like I said, sometimes a girl's got to get outside her back porch," she shrugged. "I knew I could make it in the Big Easy or Atlanta. That was easy. But making it in L.A.? That was a challenge for a girl with no formal training who loves a style of music that this town doesn't know how to appreciate. But I wanted to see the Pacific Ocean, and I wanted that challenge, and my family supported that decision every step of the way, so I got me a year of college under my belt, then I hit the highway and didn't stop until I saw water."
"What was your first impression of it? The ocean, I mean."
"It was big," she said, with a faintly self-deprecating smile. "And wild and free. I fell in love with it. I had to have stood on that beach for half the day, just watching the waves roll in and out."
Orlando smiled, thinking how closely that echoed his first view of the Pacific when he'd landed in L.A. "So how'd Josh come into the picture?"
"Oh, that's a story all on its own," she laughed. "See, I ran through just about every job there is in this town. Walking dogs, waiting tables, standing on Hollywood and Highland handing out flyers for shows and tours, you name it and I did it. Well, all except stripping and nude modeling. I didn't need the money that bad, and my meemaw would've had my hide if I'd done that. I did a little bit of regular modeling, though. Mostly local clothing lines and shows, that sort of thing."
Orlando could see that. She was a very striking looking woman, and something told him that she could have made a fortune off her face if she'd really wanted to. "Anything I'd have seen?"
"Maybe," she shrugged. "Some of the stuff is still floating around. I think I could even put my hands on all the copies that I have if you really wanted to see it. You could drop by one afternoon, pull up a chair, and look through 'em."
"I'd like that," Orlando said, and meant it. "So, Josh?"
"Well, there I was, doing the dog walking thing again," she said, "and I had a group of five, maybe six, dogs out in Venice, just strolling along the boardwalk, and here comes this tall, lanky fool racing by on a skateboard and the dogs get all excited, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting flat on my butt on the pavement, and that same fool's tangled in the leashes with the dogs, who are all licking on him and acting like he's the best thing since sliced bread. I've always said those dogs didn't have a ounce of sense between 'em."
Orlando could picture the scene clearly. "No wonder Josh never talks about it," he chuckled. "Not a very dignified way to meet a lady."
"No sir, it is not. But that didn't stop little man, oh no, he gathered up all the dogs' leashes and walks over and helps me up, pretty as you please, are you alright, ma'am, are you hurt, can I get you anything. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." She shook her head, a fond smile on her face, and Orlando could hear the love in her voice. "Being a gentleman - his words, not mine - he offered to help me finish walking the dogs to help keep 'em in line, and I was pretty sore from the fall, so I took him up on it. I can't even remember how we got on the subject, but next thing I know, we're talking Coltrane and Charlie Parker and Etta James and Bessie Smith and he is going off like a top, telling me he's been trying to get a jazz band together, and if I can sing as well as I look, we're gonna set the world on fire with our sound."
She polished off her salad, and washed it down with a sip of her mojito. "Anyway, I don't know if you've ever heard Josh talk music, but he's got a passion for it like no one I've ever known. And he got me so excited that I agreed to meet up with him the next day to try to write a few songs, and here we are, ten years later. I give him grief, but he's been the big brother I never had, and I love him like my own. My mama and meemaw've pretty much adopted him, too."
"He's a pretty good bloke," Orlando said, smiling as he watched her talk. Josh wasn't the only one passionate about the music if the way she acted was any indication. "Dom says we fight like an old married couple."
"Nah, two of you fight like siblings, always squawking and squabbling about the little things, then five minutes later you're getting on like peanut butter and jelly," she laughed. The look she gave Orlando was a knowing one. "And I bet you don't even remember what all the fuss was about. Just like I bet if someone came along and started bad mouthing your vampire, the two of you would band together so fast it'd make a person's head spin. Now you and Dom? You two are the ones who fight like an old married couple."
Orlando snorted out a laugh, already imagining Dom's reaction when he passed that along. "We're no worse than you and Aubrey."
"Oh sugar, you have been sheltered when it comes to women if you don't think Aubrey and I are way worse. My girl's about as feisty as it gets, and there've been plenty of times when we've gone toe to toe. But I'd take a bullet for her, and that's a short list of people right there."
"So, how'd that happen? I mean, how'd you guys meet her?" Orlando asked, nodding his thanks as the server brought their meal. One thing he loved about Cecconi's was they served everything family style, so the atmosphere was a little more relaxed. "All I know is it was at a wedding."
"Now that is a good story," she said, smiling when he handed her a plate. "It was close to nine years ago, I think, and we were still playing weddings back then. It was some big-time producer or another, I forget which one, and the wedding and reception were in his backyard. So all of these rich, self-important Hollywood hotshots are there, schmoozing it up and drinking all the free booze like they've never seen a martini before, and we're just on this tiny stage, playing cover tunes, mostly pop. It was positively soul sucking."
"Sorry," Orlando grinned, tactfully not mentioning that he rather liked pop. He and Josh'd had that argument more than once about how pop wasn't real music, and he wasn't about to have it again.
"So was I, sugar, so was I. Anyway, we were between sets and Josh and I were heading to the kitchen to grab a snack to keep us going, and we see this poor waitress trying to play keep away from some studio executive. I mean, we're talking this man was plastered and persistent and you could tell the girl was just raring to fly off the handle and knock him on his ass, job be damned. But Josh, proud Papa Bear that he is when it comes to defending people, beat her to it. Cold-clocked him flat on his back and told him that his aunt owned more stock in his company than the exec did and if he still wanted a job in the morning, he'd say his goodbyes and skedaddle off like a good boy."
Orlando snorted out a laugh. Josh as the knight in shining armor. "Y'know, I can see that." He grinned and shook his head. "I take it the guy left?"
"Oh, yeah, he took off," she said. She twirled a bite of pasta on her fork, then that wide, megawatt smile crossed her face. "According to Josh, however, the next morning, the exec complained to the studio head about what had happened."
"Uh oh..."
"Last we all heard, he was scrounging up gofer jobs on location shoots."
"Guess he didn't know Aunt Kate."
"No, he did not." Her laughter was beautiful and bright, like a burst of sunlight after a rainstorm. "And, as it turns out, our would-be victim had a love for jazz and could pluck the sweetest liquid notes from a bass guitar I've heard this side of the Mississippi."
"Yeah, she's alright," Orlando said, trying not to grin at Cooper's indignant expression. Much like Aubrey, it was almost unfair pushing that particular button. Then Cooper pointed her fork at him and shook her head.
"I should tell her you said that, mister."
"Go ahead, I doubt she could think any worse of me. I mean, I'm sure it's possible, but... Anyway, tell me more about you. Do you play any instruments, or do you just sing?"
"Just sing, he says," she replied, with a soft snort, but she gave him a look that made him afraid they'd circle back to his dodged bullet at some point in the evening. He vowed to stay on his toes. "I play guitar and piano, too. And I still sing in the church choir."
"You go to church?" he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Fuck. Even he knew that bringing up religion on a first date went against all the rules.
"I sure do," she said, serenely. "Every Sunday. Aubrey goes with me from time to time, but I have yet to talk Josh into going. He thinks it's all fire and brimstone." She paused and gave him a shrewd look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "From what I hear, you might could profit from a Sunday or two there yourself."
"I'm, uh, not sure that church is a place for me."
"Church is a place for everybody," she replied. "Like with everything, you get out of it what you put into it. And if you come with a clear mind and a pure heart, I think you'd be surprised at what you might find. Church isn't about thumping on a Bible and telling people they're going to hell or toeing a fine line you can't cross - it's about family and love and taking joy in your fellow man and in God. We sing and we dance and we pray because we're filled with His light and His spirit, and it is joyous."
Orlando could only stare at her, enraptured. He'd never heard anyone talk like that about religion before. Of course, he didn't have much experience being around overtly religious people, either. "You make it sound nice."
"It's very nice," she told him, and picked up her fresh drink. "What most folks don't seem to realize, or they've forgotten, is God don't care if you make mistakes or if you don't walk the narrow path, as long as you live a joyous life that you can be proud of, and that you help out your fellow man. People who want to twist that message for their own ends, they're the ones in true need of salvation."
Orlando had never been particularly religious (even though his Nan had tried), but what Cooper was saying made sense. He rested his fork on his plate and propped his chin on one hand. "And what does your God think about homosexuality?"
"My God?" She arched a delicate eyebrow, and Orlando had to fight the urge to squirm. "There's only one God, sweetheart, He just goes under many different names. But to answer your question, God don't care who you love. See, He said to love one another, not love everyone except that fella over there that loves another fella. Jesus didn't teach hate, and his Daddy don't approve of it."
"So God," Orlando said, warming to the subject, and honestly, this was one of the most fascinating conversations he'd had in a long time, first date rules be damned, "doesn't care that I live with two vampires, both of whom are men?"
"Oh, sugar," she sighed, and shook her head. "God wouldn't care if you were in love with a six-armed, blue-skinned alien from Pluto - and you hush up, Pluto is too a planet, I don't care what those scientists say - all he cares is that you love with an open heart and an open mind and that you live your life the best way you can without hurting anyone."
"I think that your meemaw wasn't the only smart woman in your family. How are you real?"
A melancholy look flashed across her face, and seemed to dim her spirit along with it. "Don't go putting me up on some pedestal because I say a few things that most people with the sense God gave a goose should know. I've made plenty of mistakes in my time and fallen on my ass more times than that. You don't get through life without hurting the ones you love or without a few regrets."
"I guess not," he replied thoughtfully, thinking of all the ways he and Karl and Harry had hurt each other over the last twelve years, both intentionally and not. And even though they'd made a lot of progress and were in a really great spot now, he had no doubts they'd do it again at some point.
"Someone, I don't remember who, or maybe I read it somewhere, said that grownup love is doing something you don't want to do for a person you don't particularly like at the moment." Her gaze turned wistful and, to Orlando at least, a little sad. "Some people aren't so good at grownup love, and there have been times when I've put myself in that category. But I hope I'm getting better."
"Well, it's all about growing, isn't it?" he asked, reaching over the table to place his hand over hers. "Moving forward and learning from your mistakes. I think if you can do that, you're on the right track. I know I'm trying to do it."
"How's that working out for you?" she asked, with a small smile. Orlando was pleased that she didn't pull her hand away.
"So far, it seems to be working out pretty well. Me and Karl and Harry're all talking more and figuring out where we all fit, and that's a huge step forward from where we were before...ah..."
"Before Aubrey?" She flashed him a warm, amused smile. "It's alright to mention her name, you know. I know all about that situation, and I know you two've talked it out."
"I just..." He shrugged and looked down to where his hand still covered hers. "I didn't want it to be awkward."
"It's not." She was still smiling when he looked up. "It's not like you're stepping out on her with me, right? So it ain't no thang, as the kids say."
"You really are pretty smart, you know that," he said. "And if you ever wanted to, y'know, talk - about anything at all - I'm a pretty good listener."
She slowly pulled her hand back and placed them on her lap. Her tone was ice-cold. "Thank you for the offer."
Ooookay, maybe that wasn't the best thing he could have said. Josh's warning to him rang loudly in his ears, and it didn't take a genius to figure out he needed to peddle back in a hurry. "I, uh, I didn't mean...no one's told me anything. I mean, y'know, I just wanted you to know that I'm here. If you wanted to talk."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap." Her voice softened. "I got the Munroe temper as well as the good looks."
He attempted to lighten the mood. "Does this mean your meemaw and mum are worse?"
He was pleased to see that the smile was back in full force. "Oh, you have no idea. Many's the time the walls have shook when we get at it. We're not the type to not let our voices be heard."
"Yeah, I didn't get the impression that you were a shy little wallflower," Orlando laughed. He didn't mention his offer again. It was out there, and she'd take advantage if she wanted.
"It's not in my nature," she told him. "If there's something I like, I go get it. And if something's got me all hot, I don't bottle it up. Swallowing your anger don't help no one, and it just makes your belly hurt. Same with stress and disappointment."
"Agreed. So tell me about you. I already know you can sing like an angel and you've got a temper, but what do you like to do when you're not singing?"
"Well, I still work part-time at the animal clinic near my apartment as a vet tech. And the last couple of years, I've been taking classes at UCLA, trying to finally earn my degree. It's slow going, but I'm getting there."
"Really?" He picked up his fork again, but gave her his full attention. "What're you majoring in?"
"Global Studies," she replied. "I always figured if the singing career doesn't support me any longer or if it does, when I retire, I'd love to work for Women For Women, and help some of these girls in Southeast Asia or Africa learn to empower themselves and start up businesses. I mean, I know it sounds all pretentious and L.A., but it's important to me. I may be a black girl from the South, but I had so many opportunities just by being born here in America that a lot of women don't get."
"I don't think it sounds pretentious at all. If more people felt that way, the world would be a better place," he said. She was beautiful just sitting there, but when she got excited, she became breathtaking. "Have you ever thought of doing your own charity and not working for someone else's?"
"Oh, sure," she said, taking another sip of her drink before picking up her fork once more. "But you have to have money for that, and I don't make near the kind of bills that would take."
"What if..." He paused, praying he wasn't making a huge mistake. Then he took a deep breath, followed by a bracing swallow of his drink. "What if you had access to the funds? After you get your degree, I mean, if there was someone who was willing to bankroll the start-up costs as a, a silent partner."
She was shaking her head before he'd even finished speaking. "I'm not interested in your money, Orlando."
"No, I know you're not, it's just...I want to help."
"And I appreciate it, truly. But I've got to earn my way. I can't start up at the top running my own show if I haven't earned that spot through my own hard work and sweat." She let out a small chuckle. "Most days, I still got issue with Karl giving us the coin to start our own studio, but I gave in because I know the band earned this shot with years of toil and playing in small clubs and making mistakes and failing and trying again."
He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face, but wasn't sure how well he succeeded. "So, that's a no?"
"That's a no for now. Although, if you wanted to start your own foundation or charity, I'd happily work for it and work my way up the ranks and run it for you some day, when I've learned all I need to learn."
"I might take you up on that." In fact, her comments had sparked some ideas, but he kept them to himself for the moment. Best to let them percolate, then talk them over with Harry and Karl or their business managers.
"You do that," she replied. "I'm a hard worker, and I'm not afraid of getting a little dirty. My meemaw always told me that a little dirt don't hurt, and I took that to heart."
"It sounds like your meemaw and my Nan would have got on famously," he laughed. "She was full of sayings like that."
"Did your Nan encourage you to move to L.A.?"
"Sort of," he admitted, toying with what was left of his food. "She told me I should always follow my dreams, no matter where they took me. L.A. was just supposed to be a stop on the way, y'know, but I fell in love with the city."
"And the vampires?" she asked, so obviously amused that he couldn't help but laugh.
"And the vampires," he said, with a rueful smile. "But only some of them."
"Well, if you went around falling in love with all of them, that might be pretty awkward down the line."
"To hear everyone who knows me, I apparently fall in love about as often as I breathe." He sometimes wished he wasn't quite so easy, but he'd learned to come to some sort of peace with it.
"That's not such a bad thing. At least your heart is still open to love." Her face took on a wistful quality. "For some folks, that book closed a long time ago."
He leaned forward, but didn't attempt to reach out again. He knew better than to touch her right now. "I don't think that's true. I think some people forget, maybe, but it's sort of like riding a bike. Once you get back on the pedals, it's easy enough to get going again."
"You make it sound so easy," she said, her voice a little softer, a little sadder.
"Well, someone once said it's not how many times you get knocked down, but how many times you get back up that count. I'm a pretty good example of that. Just ask anyone who knows me. And I'm a firm believer that there's someone out there for everyone. It's just a matter of finding them."
"Or two someones in your case?"
Good, she was amused again. Orlando just shrugged and grinned. "I'm unique. Or a freak, depending on who you ask."
"No," she said, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table. "What you are, honey, is a romantic. I'm not sure I've ever met one before."
"Never?"
"Maybe Aubrey, but she'd probably rather drink snake oil than admit it out loud. Josh, probably, but only because he's found Karl. But no, I've never met anyone like you before. Right now I'm just trying to figure out if you're in love with love or just greedy."
"Probably a little bit of both," Orlando admitted, with a sheepish shrug, then found himself confessing: "When I first met Karl, I never thought I would ever feel for anyone the way I felt about him, y'know? He was so..." He shrugged again, at a loss for words.
"I do," she smiled. "He'd definitely got enough charm and "it" factor to light up a city."
"Exactly. I was overwhelmed and head over heels in love before the end of that first limo ride. And then I met Harry, and it took a little longer with him, but once I figured it out, I thought to myself, this is it. I've hit the jackpot, I'm done, who else could even come close to the two of them? But then, there was Dave, and I defy anyone not to fall in love with him, and then..." he swallowed, took a moment, "...and somewhere in there, I realized that I was never going to come first with Harry and Karl, no matter how much they loved me. They'd always love each other more. And it's fine, it honestly is. But I guess I'm still searching. Which probably does make me greedy."
"No," she corrected softly, "it just makes you human. There's no shame in that."
"No, I suppose not," he conceded. Then he flashed his most charming smile. "As long as I don't decide I want all the pretty women in L.A. to myself."
"Now that would be truly greedy," she laughed. "Maybe you could just settle for one pretty woman."
Orlando heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes until she laughed again. "I suppose I could settle for just one," he said, in the most mournful tone he could manage. "I might have to take applications, though."
"Make sure you get resumes, too," she teased, eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. "Otherwise, you might end up with someone pretty and sweet, but dumb as a box of rocks."
"I don't think Karl or Harry would let me keep anyone dumb, especially given the women they're both involved with."
"Well, there you go. Just have one of them vet out your applicants."
Just the thought of either Liv or Monica approving his choice for a girlfriend made him shiver. "Uh, no thanks. I think they'd probably scare off any girl that wanted to get too close. And if they didn't, Viggo probably would. As I said, he's very scary when he wants to be."
"He's the head of the Council. I imagine he'd have to be, to get an entire race of people to toe the line."
"Exactly," Orlando admitted. "But it also makes him a terror of a boss. I mean, in a good way. He keeps me on my toes and it's a privilege to work for him, although you can't tell him I said that. He'd just lord it over me for the next century."
"Sugar, you don't even have to worry about that," she laughed. "I hardly move in the same rarified circles you do."
"Keep making music with Josh and you will. Besides, you're playing Lij and Christina's wedding, right?"
"You know we are."
"Well, there you go then," he said, a trifle smug when she gave him an exasperated look. "You'll definitely meet Viggo at the reception. And who knows, maybe one of those rarified people will swoop in and sweep you off your feet."
She let out a rather unladylike snort and shook her head. "Sugar, I'm not looking to be swept off my feet. I'm not looking at all."
"Ah, but that," Orlando said, "is precisely when it happens."
She waved a finger at him. "Don't you get started, young man. You start sounding too much like Josh, and I'll start to think he put you up to taking me out."
Orlando thought about their wrestling match, and grinned. "He definitely didn't put me up to it. And I swear, I'm not trying to set you up with anyone, I'm just saying that you never know what life has in store for you."
She toyed with the stem of her glass. "Things like that only work in romantic comedies, not real life. I've got my music and my family and my friends and Mamie. I got all the love I need."
"Mamie?"
"My dog. Black lab mix," she said. "I named her after Mamie Smith, Queen of the Blues."
"I bet she's beautiful." He started to say something else, then stopped as their waiter approached. A quick glance showed that she seemed to be finished with her meal. "Would you like desert? They have an amazing panna cotta with berries."
"Lord, if I eat any more," she laughed, "I'll look like a sausage stuffed in this dress. And won't be able to move an inch on that dance floor."
"We'll skip the desert then," he grinned. He pulled out a card and handed it to the server, then gave her a mock-stern look when she started to protest. "I asked you out, so I'm paying. And no arguments from you, young lady."
"Or what?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye that sent a tiny thrill through him.
"Don't get sassy with me," he said, as she laughed. He signed the receipt when the server placed it in front of him, then he stood and held out a hand. "I do believe I promised you dinner, followed by dancing, ma'am."
"I do believe you did," she replied, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. "I'll meet you at Cicada?"
"You got it." He texted Elijah to let him know they were on the way, and followed her out the door and to the valet. He was in the company of a beautiful woman and the rest of the night to look forward to, and he was anxious to get started.
***
Authors: Brenda & Jo (azewewish & idiosyncratic)
Featuring: Orlando Bloom, Karl Urban, Harry Sinclair, Josh Hartnett (Cooper)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And Orlando's not dating anyone mentioned in this fic.
Summary: Orlando takes Cooper out to dinner, and gains a new friend.
Takes place a few days after The First Rule Of Sharing.
Orlando cursed again as he discarded yet another shirt and added it to the growing pile on the floor. Too dressy, too, well, date-y. And since this wasn't a date (no matter what Josh and Karl kept teasing), he didn't want to send the wrong impression. However, it wasn't like he could stroll into a place like Cecconi's in cut-offs, flops and a t-shirt, either. They'd laugh him out the door, aide to the head of the Council or not.
"Black jeans, boots, and the navy pin-striped oxford you got last week. Not too dressy, not too casual," Karl said, strolling into the room with an amused smile, Harry by his side. "It'll send exactly the right signal."
"You're putting far too much effort into a simple dinner, you know," Harry added, brushing a light kiss to the tattoo on back of his neck. It still amazed Orlando how appreciative and touched Harry had looked when he'd seen it the first time. (He could admit, if only to himself, that he still got a little thrill just from thinking about it.)
"I know, that's what's driving me mental," he sighed.
Karl trailed light fingers along his arm and looked at him in the mirror's reflection. "I haven't seen you this nervous over a woman since your first dinner date with Monica."
"Yeah, well," Orlando said, and shrugged. "Sometimes you just know when someone deserves the effort."
Karl and Harry exchanged a look that Orlando caught in the mirror.
"Oi, I'm not in love with her!" He whirled to face them, glaring at their amused expressions. "And I'm not planning on falling in love with her."
"See that you don't," Karl said, dropping a light kiss on his lips. "Otherwise, Aubrey might have words with you."
"Aubrey...what?" Orlando stared as Karl vanished into the walk-in closet. Then he looked at Harry. "What's that mean?"
"It means that Karl is fucking with you," Harry replied, chuckling as he picked up the shirt Karl had suggested and held it out.
"You don't think it's too much dark?" Orlando asked as he shrugged into the shirt. "Maybe I could go with the pale grey oxford that I got when I got this one. Or maybe the yellow silk."
"Definitely not the yellow silk," Karl declared, appearing with the black jeans and his Cesare Paciotti boots and matching belt. "Unless you really do think it's a date."
"It's not a date." Orlando grabbed the jeans and slid them on with another glare. "Are you trying to get me in trouble with Josh or something?"
"No, I'm just trying to ascertain why you're acting like this is a date when you keep claiming it isn't." Karl handed Orlando the boots and the belt, then went rummaging through the watches on his dresser.
"The Movado," Harry suggested, not moving. "It's a nice watch without being ostentatious."
"Just because you own stock in the company..." Karl grinned, but picked it up.
Orlando took the watch and fastened it around his wrist, then looked at himself in the mirror. Without a word, he shrugged right back out of the shirt and went into the closet for the pale gray one.
"My question," Harry said, as Orlando re-emerged with the new one half-buttoned, "is does Cooper think it's a date?"
Orlando stopped. He was pretty sure he hadn't really implied it was going to be a date. Just two people having dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by dancing. Two people... Fuck. He dropped onto the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. "Fuck."
Harry, to his credit, didn't say a word, but Orlando could feel the amusement rolling through their bond. Karl, however, burst out laughing. "Little one, it's alright if it's a date. There is nothing wrong with taking a pretty girl out and showing her a good time."
"Oh, piss off," Orlando groaned, just resisting the urge to drag his fingers through his hair. "It can't be a date. Josh'll kill me!"
"I'm pretty sure Josh said he'd only kill you if you broke her heart or slept with her." Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Are you planning on doing either one of those things?"
"What?! No, for fuck's sake, no. I mean, she's beautiful and all, but..." Orlando finished buttoning the shirt and straightened. "I'm not sleeping with anyone outside this room, and I'm definitely not planning on breaking anyone's heart." Including mine, he thought, but didn't say it out loud. Given how well they knew him, they probably knew it already.
"Then Josh will be fine," Karl said. "Be your normal charming self and don't worry about the rest."
"Think of her as you would Katie," Harry suggested. "Only less likely to ask you embarrassing questions about your health."
Orlando made a rude noise. "Not likely," he said, studying himself in the mirror. "I think of Katie as a great big pain in my arse. I highly doubt Cooper's going to be like that."
"I'm sure Katie is thrilled at your assessment of her character."
"Oh, she thanked me for the compliment when I told her," Orlando admitted. "And then she sat me on and forced me to take my meds."
"I'm sure there was a struggle involved," Karl drily said.
"Not much of one. She's mean as a snake," Orlando said. "Plus it didn't help my cause that she has fangs and I don't."
"That would do it."
"Anyway," Orlando said, choosing to ignore Harry's comment. It wouldn't do to get him started. They'd be here all night with the back and forth. "How do I look?"
"You look very nice," Karl said, coming over to straighten his collar. "Cooper will be properly impressed."
Orlando pointed at Karl and shook his finger. Then he scooped up the keys to the Viper and tucked his wallet into his pocket. "I won't be late."
Harry brushed a kiss across Orlando's forehead. "Be late. Enjoy yourself and show her a good time."
Show her a good time. He could do that, he thought, as he said his goodbyes and bounded down the steps and to the garage. Josh was waiting for him, leaning against the hood of the Viper. He looked pretty relaxed, but Orlando wasn't fooled. He knew how deceptive appearances could be.
"I don't guess you came out to just say goodbye," he said, strolling up to the car.
"Sort of," Josh shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't come out to threaten you with grievous bodily harm, however, if you're worried about that."
"That's, uh, positive." And highly unexpected, but Orlando didn't say that out loud. He didn't want Josh to change his mind.
"You look alright," Josh declared, looking him over. "Nice, but not too flashy. I approve. Just make sure you keep the tone of the evening like your outfit and you should be fine. If you go all Karl on her and try to impress her, she's just gonna laugh at you."
"I'm not trying to impress her," Orlando said, refusing to point out that he was more likely to act like Harry, even though he wasn't exactly sure what that would entail.
"But you're taking the Viper?"
"You'd rather I take the Bentley?"
"Good point," Josh said, glancing over at the car in question. Then he looked back at Orlando and straightened. "Just a word of advice. Don't ask too many personal questions. Cooper'll talk about herself if she wants to, but if she doesn't, it would take an act of Congress and direct intervention from God to make her open up."
"Duly noted," Orlando said. He opened the car door, then paused to look at Josh. "Relax, Dad. I know the boundaries, okay? I just want to make her smile, so stop worrying."
"Part and parcel of the territory, dude," Josh smiled, then stepped in to give Orlando a one-armed bro hug. "And take care of yourself, too. I don't want to have to nurse your broken heart, either."
"No broken hearts on either side, I swear," Orlando said, returning the smile.
The Viper was a little flashy, he decided, as he headed down Mulholland to Laurel Canyon, but what other car could he take? The Bentley was definitely out, as was the Maybach, and he was pretty sure Harry would kill him (no matter what he said to the contrary) if he even thought about taking the '55 Jaguar XK out of the garage. Which also left out the '48 Aston Martin DB1. And it wasn't a Range Rover kind of night (not to mention, Josh had sort of appropriated it as his main car of choice, saying it was the least ostentatious of the lot, although he tended to stick to the motorbikes), and the '64 GTO really wasn't his speed (although Harry looked right at home behind the wheel, not surprisingly, since it was his car.) Maybe he'd take Dom or Josh car shopping with him for something a little more low-key. He definitely couldn't take Karl, who thought any car that cost less than the GNP of some small countries wasn't a car worth driving, or Harry, who tended to think any car built after 1978 was a waste of time and money.
He was still musing over what he should get when he pulled up to the valet outside Cecconi's. It was a typically gorgeous night, he thought, and wondered if Cooper would be up for dining on the front patio. She seemed like the type that liked fresh air and eating al fresco. He decided to take a gamble and asked the host for a patio table when he gave his name, and used the short walk to take a deep breath to calm suddenly jittery nerves. It's just Cooper, he reminded himself, just two friends having dinner.
He'd never hear the end of it if he fell for her. Not that he was planning on it.
Which didn't help, really, and he barely resisted the urge to get his iPhone out to call Dave for some strategic advice when he saw Cooper heading his way.
She looked amazing. Like a pin-up in a cream-colored dress with a pretty orange-floral print on it that both flattered and contrasted her dark skin. It also accentuated her waist, swirled around her legs when she walked, and managed to show off all her curves while still being relatively modest. Her hair was pulled back in a simple twist that emphasized stunning brown eyes and sharp cheekbones. When she got to the table, Orlando stood and held out her chair.
"You look very pretty," he said, deciding not to comment on how nice she smelled. That, he thought, might be a little much.
"Thank you," she replied, flashing a beautiful smile. "You look very nice yourself."
And just like that, Orlando was glad he'd opted for the pale gray shirt. They'd look much nicer dancing after dinner than if he'd worn the other shirt. And speaking of dancing... "I hope you don't mind," he said, "but Elijah and Christina are going to meet us at Cicada later."
"Was this little man's idea or yours?"
"Uh, mine," Orlando said slowly, sinking into his chair across from her. Hopefully that was the correct answer - she didn't look too happy at the moment.
Apparently, it was, because she visibly relaxed. "In that case, I'm thrilled to have them join us. The more the merrier."
"Wait, who's little man? You don't mean Josh, do you?"
"It's a nickname," she explained, flipping her cloth napkin over her lap in a single, graceful movement. "Sort of like calling the strong man at the circus Tiny."
"Right." It made an ironic sort of sense, considering that she only came up to Josh's shoulder without heels. "He's been behaving, though, I mean, about tonight. I mean, he hasn't gone all overprotective or anything." Much, he added to himself, but he was trying to put Josh in a good light here.
"Good. I love that boy like a brother, but sometimes he takes the position a little too seriously, if you catch me. I'm glad you didn't let him scare you off."
"If you knew the guy I work for, you'd realize I don't scare easy. Josh is nothing compared to Viggo." But then, Viggo was not only in his own category, he was in his own game.
"That bad?" she asked, looking at him in concern.
"He's actually a really cool boss," Orlando said, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. "But he's head of the Council, so he can get pretty scary when he wants to."
She gave him a thoughtful look. "That's right, you do move and shake in some pretty impressive circles."
Orlando shrugged and waited until their server had taken their drink order and left again. "It's a job. I'm still the dork who had to have two other people help him get dressed tonight."
Her gaze warmed, and Orlando could hear the laughter in her voice when she answered. "It took three of you to pick out that outfit?"
"It did," he confessed. "I've been accused of being worse than a girl, but after seeing the pile of clothes tonight, I think I believe it."
"Honey, I am flattered, but you didn't have to go through all that effort for me."
"My Nan would come from the grave and have my hide if she found out I showed up for a date not looking my best. Not that this is a date," he added hastily, cursing himself for his inability to actually think before he spoke.
"Orli - it is alright if I call you that? - sugar, you have got to take a deep breath and relax. I promise my knickers aren't gonna twist up if you call this a date. What else would you call taking someone out to dinner and dancing?"
"Um...I have no idea. I'm not exactly experienced in taking people out."
"You are adorable," she stated, and leaned forward. "Back when you were single, did you ever get jittery over taking out a man or is this simply because I'm a woman?"
"Actually..." He could just feel his cheeks turning pink. "I was usually the one being taken out, so yeah, this is new."
"Well, then, we'll just have to make sure this is a first date to remember," she said with a smile. "And give you lots of stories to relate to little man when you get home tonight, because I know he's gonna be waiting up for you."
"You realize he may try to kill me in my sleep if I have stories," Orlando said, only partly joking.
"Only if you try to sleep with me," she replied, then burst out laughing at what he was sure was a horrified expression on his face. "Oh, sugar, I know him, and I'd bet that he made you swear to keep your hands to yourself, but my mama taught me to never take a sucker bet."
"Your mum," Orlando said, clearing his throat and praying he wasn't as red as he felt, "sounds like a smart woman."
"Smartest woman I know, aside from my meemaw, and they don't come tougher than her." She reached across the table to pat his hand as their server came back around with a mojito for her and a screwdriver for him. "You just get Josh outta your head tonight. I'm betting that very delectable vampire you both share'll be making sure he's not thinking about us."
"Karl is, uh, sort of an expert at distraction."
"So Aubrey tells me."
If possible, he could feel his cheeks getting even redder at the mention of Aubrey's name. "I, uh, guess she would know."
"Does it bother you?" she asked, studying him out of alert eyes as she took a sip from her drink. "That you have to share Karl with so many people? Josh doesn't seem to mind, but he seems to be joining in as often as not, and he's never been the monogamous type. Could be why he and Karl are so good together. Where do you fall?"
"Somewhere in the middle, I guess," Orlando admitted. "Sharing Karl doesn't bother me...well, it doesn't now. In the beginning I wasn't quite so calm about it. And I really wasn't calm about Josh." Even though they were close now, it had been a long, hard road getting there.
"And do you join in when Karl brings home a woman?"
"I haven't, but it's not a big secret that I don't have much, um, experience with women," he said, wondering if he was going to go through dinner with a permanent blush.
"So you're saying it's something you might be interested in, once you've got a few more notches on your belt?"
He didn't need any experience with women to know that was a loaded question. "I guess that would depend on the situation," he finally said, hoping he wasn't putting a damper on the whole evening. "I mean, I've learned to never say never, but it's not something I'm going out looking for, y'know? I think it would take something special, though, because I'm not big on one night stands."
"Does this mean you're asking Aubrey out again?"
"Uh." Yeah, he'd sort of walked right into that one. He swallowed, and tried to figure out how he was going to extricate himself without making matters worse. One day, he'd learn to think before he opened his mouth. "I, uh, maybe? Should I?"
"Well, now, that's up to you. Although it seems to me like you've got plenty hopping on your plate, if what Josh says is true. Not that he's given too much in the way of details, but one would think two vampires would be enough for anyone."
"They are. I mean, it's...they're everything, don't, uh, get me wrong, it's just..." God, how could he explain his incredibly complicated relationship with Harry and Karl (to say nothing of Dave) with someone outside their closely knit circle? "They've been together for a really long time, and have other relationships, and..."
"Honey, you don't have to explain yourself to me, as cute as it is to see you all flustered. As long as you're happy with whatever choices you're making and you're honest with your partners, it's all gravy."
"See, that's what I think, too," Orlando said, more than a little relieved that she seemed to understand. "As long as you're communicating and everyone is on the same page, then it's cool."
"Which is exactly how it should be. And I'm guessing they're okay with you exploring your options if you're here with me."
"They are," he said, unable to keep a pleased smile off his face. "In fact, Harry and Karl were both encouraging me to be out late tonight."
"Then we'll just have to take his advice," she said. "And I know you're gonna say something about Josh'll whoop your tail if you come home late, but I think I'd listen to your vampires on this one."
"I think you're right." He relaxed, deciding to just go with the flow and see where the night took them. "After all, we can't have a proper date if we're worried about turning into pumpkins at midnight, right?"
"Everyone knows all the fun stuff happens after midnight, anyway," she replied, and sat back. "I think we're gonna be good friends, you and I. You don't strike me as the type to let life get you down."
"I guess when you've bollocksed things up as much as I have, it's easier to look on the bright side." Still, he couldn't help but be pleased at the compliment.
"If messing up your life was an Olympic sport, I'm pretty sure we'd be sharing that gold medal."
There was a slight note of bitterness in her voice, but Orlando chose to ignore it for now. He remembered Josh's words of advice to him about getting her to open up about her past. "I dunno," he said, trying to make his tone light, "you haven't been bonded to two vampires and involved them in your epic screw-ups. I think that should net me some extra points."
"That sounds like that would take a certain amount of talent," she agreed. "But you seem happy enough now."
"It hasn't been easy. I made a pretty monumental mistake a few months back, and it took a lot to get back from that. But I think I'm in a pretty good place right now."
"That's real nice," she said, smiling. "And it's good that you can own up to it. Not too many men out there can own up to their mistakes."
Something in her voice told him she was speaking from personal experience.
"It wasn't anyone's fault by mine. I'm just sorry I dragged other people into it." He took a swallow of his drink and studied her. The easy way she carried herself was impressive, and he felt he could sit there and watch her all night. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get her on the dance floor, and he just prayed that he remembered everything Karl had shown him about the old-fashioned dances. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of her. "So tell me how a pretty girl with a voice like yours ends up in L.A. singing jazz in small clubs."
"Oh, well now, that's a mighty boring story, but if you wanna hear it, I suppose I could tell you." Their server dropped off their salads and she seemed to take the time to gather her thoughts. "You ever been to Mississippi?"
Orlando shook his head. "Been to New Orleans. And Atlanta, for business. But that's about it."
"And fine cities they are, but sometimes a girl needs to see the world outside her back porch." She popped a slice of cucumber in her mouth, and swallowed. "Anyway, I grew up in Meridian, which is right there on the Alabama border. My mama and meemaw own a hardware store, mostly caters to the folks that work on the Naval base. They raised me - never knew my daddy, but to hear meemaw tell it, I didn't miss much - and I spent a lot of my childhood when I wasn't at the store helping out at the church, singing in the choir. And when I wasn't there, I was with my uncle, Caleb, who runs the local jazz joint. Well, the only jazz joint, I should say. Anyway, that's where my love of jazz and blues comes from."
"So, how'd you get to L.A.? Why not New Orleans?"
"Like I said, sometimes a girl's got to get outside her back porch," she shrugged. "I knew I could make it in the Big Easy or Atlanta. That was easy. But making it in L.A.? That was a challenge for a girl with no formal training who loves a style of music that this town doesn't know how to appreciate. But I wanted to see the Pacific Ocean, and I wanted that challenge, and my family supported that decision every step of the way, so I got me a year of college under my belt, then I hit the highway and didn't stop until I saw water."
"What was your first impression of it? The ocean, I mean."
"It was big," she said, with a faintly self-deprecating smile. "And wild and free. I fell in love with it. I had to have stood on that beach for half the day, just watching the waves roll in and out."
Orlando smiled, thinking how closely that echoed his first view of the Pacific when he'd landed in L.A. "So how'd Josh come into the picture?"
"Oh, that's a story all on its own," she laughed. "See, I ran through just about every job there is in this town. Walking dogs, waiting tables, standing on Hollywood and Highland handing out flyers for shows and tours, you name it and I did it. Well, all except stripping and nude modeling. I didn't need the money that bad, and my meemaw would've had my hide if I'd done that. I did a little bit of regular modeling, though. Mostly local clothing lines and shows, that sort of thing."
Orlando could see that. She was a very striking looking woman, and something told him that she could have made a fortune off her face if she'd really wanted to. "Anything I'd have seen?"
"Maybe," she shrugged. "Some of the stuff is still floating around. I think I could even put my hands on all the copies that I have if you really wanted to see it. You could drop by one afternoon, pull up a chair, and look through 'em."
"I'd like that," Orlando said, and meant it. "So, Josh?"
"Well, there I was, doing the dog walking thing again," she said, "and I had a group of five, maybe six, dogs out in Venice, just strolling along the boardwalk, and here comes this tall, lanky fool racing by on a skateboard and the dogs get all excited, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting flat on my butt on the pavement, and that same fool's tangled in the leashes with the dogs, who are all licking on him and acting like he's the best thing since sliced bread. I've always said those dogs didn't have a ounce of sense between 'em."
Orlando could picture the scene clearly. "No wonder Josh never talks about it," he chuckled. "Not a very dignified way to meet a lady."
"No sir, it is not. But that didn't stop little man, oh no, he gathered up all the dogs' leashes and walks over and helps me up, pretty as you please, are you alright, ma'am, are you hurt, can I get you anything. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." She shook her head, a fond smile on her face, and Orlando could hear the love in her voice. "Being a gentleman - his words, not mine - he offered to help me finish walking the dogs to help keep 'em in line, and I was pretty sore from the fall, so I took him up on it. I can't even remember how we got on the subject, but next thing I know, we're talking Coltrane and Charlie Parker and Etta James and Bessie Smith and he is going off like a top, telling me he's been trying to get a jazz band together, and if I can sing as well as I look, we're gonna set the world on fire with our sound."
She polished off her salad, and washed it down with a sip of her mojito. "Anyway, I don't know if you've ever heard Josh talk music, but he's got a passion for it like no one I've ever known. And he got me so excited that I agreed to meet up with him the next day to try to write a few songs, and here we are, ten years later. I give him grief, but he's been the big brother I never had, and I love him like my own. My mama and meemaw've pretty much adopted him, too."
"He's a pretty good bloke," Orlando said, smiling as he watched her talk. Josh wasn't the only one passionate about the music if the way she acted was any indication. "Dom says we fight like an old married couple."
"Nah, two of you fight like siblings, always squawking and squabbling about the little things, then five minutes later you're getting on like peanut butter and jelly," she laughed. The look she gave Orlando was a knowing one. "And I bet you don't even remember what all the fuss was about. Just like I bet if someone came along and started bad mouthing your vampire, the two of you would band together so fast it'd make a person's head spin. Now you and Dom? You two are the ones who fight like an old married couple."
Orlando snorted out a laugh, already imagining Dom's reaction when he passed that along. "We're no worse than you and Aubrey."
"Oh sugar, you have been sheltered when it comes to women if you don't think Aubrey and I are way worse. My girl's about as feisty as it gets, and there've been plenty of times when we've gone toe to toe. But I'd take a bullet for her, and that's a short list of people right there."
"So, how'd that happen? I mean, how'd you guys meet her?" Orlando asked, nodding his thanks as the server brought their meal. One thing he loved about Cecconi's was they served everything family style, so the atmosphere was a little more relaxed. "All I know is it was at a wedding."
"Now that is a good story," she said, smiling when he handed her a plate. "It was close to nine years ago, I think, and we were still playing weddings back then. It was some big-time producer or another, I forget which one, and the wedding and reception were in his backyard. So all of these rich, self-important Hollywood hotshots are there, schmoozing it up and drinking all the free booze like they've never seen a martini before, and we're just on this tiny stage, playing cover tunes, mostly pop. It was positively soul sucking."
"Sorry," Orlando grinned, tactfully not mentioning that he rather liked pop. He and Josh'd had that argument more than once about how pop wasn't real music, and he wasn't about to have it again.
"So was I, sugar, so was I. Anyway, we were between sets and Josh and I were heading to the kitchen to grab a snack to keep us going, and we see this poor waitress trying to play keep away from some studio executive. I mean, we're talking this man was plastered and persistent and you could tell the girl was just raring to fly off the handle and knock him on his ass, job be damned. But Josh, proud Papa Bear that he is when it comes to defending people, beat her to it. Cold-clocked him flat on his back and told him that his aunt owned more stock in his company than the exec did and if he still wanted a job in the morning, he'd say his goodbyes and skedaddle off like a good boy."
Orlando snorted out a laugh. Josh as the knight in shining armor. "Y'know, I can see that." He grinned and shook his head. "I take it the guy left?"
"Oh, yeah, he took off," she said. She twirled a bite of pasta on her fork, then that wide, megawatt smile crossed her face. "According to Josh, however, the next morning, the exec complained to the studio head about what had happened."
"Uh oh..."
"Last we all heard, he was scrounging up gofer jobs on location shoots."
"Guess he didn't know Aunt Kate."
"No, he did not." Her laughter was beautiful and bright, like a burst of sunlight after a rainstorm. "And, as it turns out, our would-be victim had a love for jazz and could pluck the sweetest liquid notes from a bass guitar I've heard this side of the Mississippi."
"Yeah, she's alright," Orlando said, trying not to grin at Cooper's indignant expression. Much like Aubrey, it was almost unfair pushing that particular button. Then Cooper pointed her fork at him and shook her head.
"I should tell her you said that, mister."
"Go ahead, I doubt she could think any worse of me. I mean, I'm sure it's possible, but... Anyway, tell me more about you. Do you play any instruments, or do you just sing?"
"Just sing, he says," she replied, with a soft snort, but she gave him a look that made him afraid they'd circle back to his dodged bullet at some point in the evening. He vowed to stay on his toes. "I play guitar and piano, too. And I still sing in the church choir."
"You go to church?" he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Fuck. Even he knew that bringing up religion on a first date went against all the rules.
"I sure do," she said, serenely. "Every Sunday. Aubrey goes with me from time to time, but I have yet to talk Josh into going. He thinks it's all fire and brimstone." She paused and gave him a shrewd look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "From what I hear, you might could profit from a Sunday or two there yourself."
"I'm, uh, not sure that church is a place for me."
"Church is a place for everybody," she replied. "Like with everything, you get out of it what you put into it. And if you come with a clear mind and a pure heart, I think you'd be surprised at what you might find. Church isn't about thumping on a Bible and telling people they're going to hell or toeing a fine line you can't cross - it's about family and love and taking joy in your fellow man and in God. We sing and we dance and we pray because we're filled with His light and His spirit, and it is joyous."
Orlando could only stare at her, enraptured. He'd never heard anyone talk like that about religion before. Of course, he didn't have much experience being around overtly religious people, either. "You make it sound nice."
"It's very nice," she told him, and picked up her fresh drink. "What most folks don't seem to realize, or they've forgotten, is God don't care if you make mistakes or if you don't walk the narrow path, as long as you live a joyous life that you can be proud of, and that you help out your fellow man. People who want to twist that message for their own ends, they're the ones in true need of salvation."
Orlando had never been particularly religious (even though his Nan had tried), but what Cooper was saying made sense. He rested his fork on his plate and propped his chin on one hand. "And what does your God think about homosexuality?"
"My God?" She arched a delicate eyebrow, and Orlando had to fight the urge to squirm. "There's only one God, sweetheart, He just goes under many different names. But to answer your question, God don't care who you love. See, He said to love one another, not love everyone except that fella over there that loves another fella. Jesus didn't teach hate, and his Daddy don't approve of it."
"So God," Orlando said, warming to the subject, and honestly, this was one of the most fascinating conversations he'd had in a long time, first date rules be damned, "doesn't care that I live with two vampires, both of whom are men?"
"Oh, sugar," she sighed, and shook her head. "God wouldn't care if you were in love with a six-armed, blue-skinned alien from Pluto - and you hush up, Pluto is too a planet, I don't care what those scientists say - all he cares is that you love with an open heart and an open mind and that you live your life the best way you can without hurting anyone."
"I think that your meemaw wasn't the only smart woman in your family. How are you real?"
A melancholy look flashed across her face, and seemed to dim her spirit along with it. "Don't go putting me up on some pedestal because I say a few things that most people with the sense God gave a goose should know. I've made plenty of mistakes in my time and fallen on my ass more times than that. You don't get through life without hurting the ones you love or without a few regrets."
"I guess not," he replied thoughtfully, thinking of all the ways he and Karl and Harry had hurt each other over the last twelve years, both intentionally and not. And even though they'd made a lot of progress and were in a really great spot now, he had no doubts they'd do it again at some point.
"Someone, I don't remember who, or maybe I read it somewhere, said that grownup love is doing something you don't want to do for a person you don't particularly like at the moment." Her gaze turned wistful and, to Orlando at least, a little sad. "Some people aren't so good at grownup love, and there have been times when I've put myself in that category. But I hope I'm getting better."
"Well, it's all about growing, isn't it?" he asked, reaching over the table to place his hand over hers. "Moving forward and learning from your mistakes. I think if you can do that, you're on the right track. I know I'm trying to do it."
"How's that working out for you?" she asked, with a small smile. Orlando was pleased that she didn't pull her hand away.
"So far, it seems to be working out pretty well. Me and Karl and Harry're all talking more and figuring out where we all fit, and that's a huge step forward from where we were before...ah..."
"Before Aubrey?" She flashed him a warm, amused smile. "It's alright to mention her name, you know. I know all about that situation, and I know you two've talked it out."
"I just..." He shrugged and looked down to where his hand still covered hers. "I didn't want it to be awkward."
"It's not." She was still smiling when he looked up. "It's not like you're stepping out on her with me, right? So it ain't no thang, as the kids say."
"You really are pretty smart, you know that," he said. "And if you ever wanted to, y'know, talk - about anything at all - I'm a pretty good listener."
She slowly pulled her hand back and placed them on her lap. Her tone was ice-cold. "Thank you for the offer."
Ooookay, maybe that wasn't the best thing he could have said. Josh's warning to him rang loudly in his ears, and it didn't take a genius to figure out he needed to peddle back in a hurry. "I, uh, I didn't mean...no one's told me anything. I mean, y'know, I just wanted you to know that I'm here. If you wanted to talk."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap." Her voice softened. "I got the Munroe temper as well as the good looks."
He attempted to lighten the mood. "Does this mean your meemaw and mum are worse?"
He was pleased to see that the smile was back in full force. "Oh, you have no idea. Many's the time the walls have shook when we get at it. We're not the type to not let our voices be heard."
"Yeah, I didn't get the impression that you were a shy little wallflower," Orlando laughed. He didn't mention his offer again. It was out there, and she'd take advantage if she wanted.
"It's not in my nature," she told him. "If there's something I like, I go get it. And if something's got me all hot, I don't bottle it up. Swallowing your anger don't help no one, and it just makes your belly hurt. Same with stress and disappointment."
"Agreed. So tell me about you. I already know you can sing like an angel and you've got a temper, but what do you like to do when you're not singing?"
"Well, I still work part-time at the animal clinic near my apartment as a vet tech. And the last couple of years, I've been taking classes at UCLA, trying to finally earn my degree. It's slow going, but I'm getting there."
"Really?" He picked up his fork again, but gave her his full attention. "What're you majoring in?"
"Global Studies," she replied. "I always figured if the singing career doesn't support me any longer or if it does, when I retire, I'd love to work for Women For Women, and help some of these girls in Southeast Asia or Africa learn to empower themselves and start up businesses. I mean, I know it sounds all pretentious and L.A., but it's important to me. I may be a black girl from the South, but I had so many opportunities just by being born here in America that a lot of women don't get."
"I don't think it sounds pretentious at all. If more people felt that way, the world would be a better place," he said. She was beautiful just sitting there, but when she got excited, she became breathtaking. "Have you ever thought of doing your own charity and not working for someone else's?"
"Oh, sure," she said, taking another sip of her drink before picking up her fork once more. "But you have to have money for that, and I don't make near the kind of bills that would take."
"What if..." He paused, praying he wasn't making a huge mistake. Then he took a deep breath, followed by a bracing swallow of his drink. "What if you had access to the funds? After you get your degree, I mean, if there was someone who was willing to bankroll the start-up costs as a, a silent partner."
She was shaking her head before he'd even finished speaking. "I'm not interested in your money, Orlando."
"No, I know you're not, it's just...I want to help."
"And I appreciate it, truly. But I've got to earn my way. I can't start up at the top running my own show if I haven't earned that spot through my own hard work and sweat." She let out a small chuckle. "Most days, I still got issue with Karl giving us the coin to start our own studio, but I gave in because I know the band earned this shot with years of toil and playing in small clubs and making mistakes and failing and trying again."
He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face, but wasn't sure how well he succeeded. "So, that's a no?"
"That's a no for now. Although, if you wanted to start your own foundation or charity, I'd happily work for it and work my way up the ranks and run it for you some day, when I've learned all I need to learn."
"I might take you up on that." In fact, her comments had sparked some ideas, but he kept them to himself for the moment. Best to let them percolate, then talk them over with Harry and Karl or their business managers.
"You do that," she replied. "I'm a hard worker, and I'm not afraid of getting a little dirty. My meemaw always told me that a little dirt don't hurt, and I took that to heart."
"It sounds like your meemaw and my Nan would have got on famously," he laughed. "She was full of sayings like that."
"Did your Nan encourage you to move to L.A.?"
"Sort of," he admitted, toying with what was left of his food. "She told me I should always follow my dreams, no matter where they took me. L.A. was just supposed to be a stop on the way, y'know, but I fell in love with the city."
"And the vampires?" she asked, so obviously amused that he couldn't help but laugh.
"And the vampires," he said, with a rueful smile. "But only some of them."
"Well, if you went around falling in love with all of them, that might be pretty awkward down the line."
"To hear everyone who knows me, I apparently fall in love about as often as I breathe." He sometimes wished he wasn't quite so easy, but he'd learned to come to some sort of peace with it.
"That's not such a bad thing. At least your heart is still open to love." Her face took on a wistful quality. "For some folks, that book closed a long time ago."
He leaned forward, but didn't attempt to reach out again. He knew better than to touch her right now. "I don't think that's true. I think some people forget, maybe, but it's sort of like riding a bike. Once you get back on the pedals, it's easy enough to get going again."
"You make it sound so easy," she said, her voice a little softer, a little sadder.
"Well, someone once said it's not how many times you get knocked down, but how many times you get back up that count. I'm a pretty good example of that. Just ask anyone who knows me. And I'm a firm believer that there's someone out there for everyone. It's just a matter of finding them."
"Or two someones in your case?"
Good, she was amused again. Orlando just shrugged and grinned. "I'm unique. Or a freak, depending on who you ask."
"No," she said, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table. "What you are, honey, is a romantic. I'm not sure I've ever met one before."
"Never?"
"Maybe Aubrey, but she'd probably rather drink snake oil than admit it out loud. Josh, probably, but only because he's found Karl. But no, I've never met anyone like you before. Right now I'm just trying to figure out if you're in love with love or just greedy."
"Probably a little bit of both," Orlando admitted, with a sheepish shrug, then found himself confessing: "When I first met Karl, I never thought I would ever feel for anyone the way I felt about him, y'know? He was so..." He shrugged again, at a loss for words.
"I do," she smiled. "He'd definitely got enough charm and "it" factor to light up a city."
"Exactly. I was overwhelmed and head over heels in love before the end of that first limo ride. And then I met Harry, and it took a little longer with him, but once I figured it out, I thought to myself, this is it. I've hit the jackpot, I'm done, who else could even come close to the two of them? But then, there was Dave, and I defy anyone not to fall in love with him, and then..." he swallowed, took a moment, "...and somewhere in there, I realized that I was never going to come first with Harry and Karl, no matter how much they loved me. They'd always love each other more. And it's fine, it honestly is. But I guess I'm still searching. Which probably does make me greedy."
"No," she corrected softly, "it just makes you human. There's no shame in that."
"No, I suppose not," he conceded. Then he flashed his most charming smile. "As long as I don't decide I want all the pretty women in L.A. to myself."
"Now that would be truly greedy," she laughed. "Maybe you could just settle for one pretty woman."
Orlando heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes until she laughed again. "I suppose I could settle for just one," he said, in the most mournful tone he could manage. "I might have to take applications, though."
"Make sure you get resumes, too," she teased, eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. "Otherwise, you might end up with someone pretty and sweet, but dumb as a box of rocks."
"I don't think Karl or Harry would let me keep anyone dumb, especially given the women they're both involved with."
"Well, there you go. Just have one of them vet out your applicants."
Just the thought of either Liv or Monica approving his choice for a girlfriend made him shiver. "Uh, no thanks. I think they'd probably scare off any girl that wanted to get too close. And if they didn't, Viggo probably would. As I said, he's very scary when he wants to be."
"He's the head of the Council. I imagine he'd have to be, to get an entire race of people to toe the line."
"Exactly," Orlando admitted. "But it also makes him a terror of a boss. I mean, in a good way. He keeps me on my toes and it's a privilege to work for him, although you can't tell him I said that. He'd just lord it over me for the next century."
"Sugar, you don't even have to worry about that," she laughed. "I hardly move in the same rarified circles you do."
"Keep making music with Josh and you will. Besides, you're playing Lij and Christina's wedding, right?"
"You know we are."
"Well, there you go then," he said, a trifle smug when she gave him an exasperated look. "You'll definitely meet Viggo at the reception. And who knows, maybe one of those rarified people will swoop in and sweep you off your feet."
She let out a rather unladylike snort and shook her head. "Sugar, I'm not looking to be swept off my feet. I'm not looking at all."
"Ah, but that," Orlando said, "is precisely when it happens."
She waved a finger at him. "Don't you get started, young man. You start sounding too much like Josh, and I'll start to think he put you up to taking me out."
Orlando thought about their wrestling match, and grinned. "He definitely didn't put me up to it. And I swear, I'm not trying to set you up with anyone, I'm just saying that you never know what life has in store for you."
She toyed with the stem of her glass. "Things like that only work in romantic comedies, not real life. I've got my music and my family and my friends and Mamie. I got all the love I need."
"Mamie?"
"My dog. Black lab mix," she said. "I named her after Mamie Smith, Queen of the Blues."
"I bet she's beautiful." He started to say something else, then stopped as their waiter approached. A quick glance showed that she seemed to be finished with her meal. "Would you like desert? They have an amazing panna cotta with berries."
"Lord, if I eat any more," she laughed, "I'll look like a sausage stuffed in this dress. And won't be able to move an inch on that dance floor."
"We'll skip the desert then," he grinned. He pulled out a card and handed it to the server, then gave her a mock-stern look when she started to protest. "I asked you out, so I'm paying. And no arguments from you, young lady."
"Or what?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye that sent a tiny thrill through him.
"Don't get sassy with me," he said, as she laughed. He signed the receipt when the server placed it in front of him, then he stood and held out a hand. "I do believe I promised you dinner, followed by dancing, ma'am."
"I do believe you did," she replied, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. "I'll meet you at Cicada?"
"You got it." He texted Elijah to let him know they were on the way, and followed her out the door and to the valet. He was in the company of a beautiful woman and the rest of the night to look forward to, and he was anxious to get started.
***