“Cute?” he groaned, rolling his eyes as Robin laughed. But it pleased him enormously. Definitely more than it should have. “Come on, Princess, before your turn my head.”
The restaurant was a small place, decorated like an Asian river delta, with grass thatching, warm colors, and waiters in Saipan hats. Jake had never had Thai food, or any other international cuisine. Unless he counted Mexico. The menu might as well have been printed in Chinese for all he could make of it. Robin very artfully suggested some dishes he might like without making him look like a clod.
“Great,” Jake said quickly to their waiter as she pointed out the spicy peppered shrimp, which, she claimed, went well with beer. She ordered chicken with red curry and pineapple. That sounded wholly unappetizing to Jake, but what the hell, he was game for a little experimentation. Of any kind, come to think of it.
When the waiter brought him a beer with a funny red label on it and Robin a glass of rice wine, he held his breath and drank and asked about her trip to Minot. She confessed to feeling out of place, but seemed really taken with the Pledge of Allegiance, which he found amusing. It was funny how she could speak of a regular old run-of-the-mill American town like it was another planet. He supposed that was because Robin did occupy a whole other planet than most regular folk. Robbieville, he thought as he watched her hands moving, sketching in midair the various people she had met, where money is consumed like water and people flit in and out with no apparent purpose or destination. It was a world most could not fathom and a few could only dream of, yet there were moments he had the sense that Robin wanted off her planet, wanted to be down here with the mere mortals.
Over what he hoped was the main course, Robin made him very happy by telling him that Mr. Slick had gone to New York for several days. If Jake never laid eyes on that ass again, it would be too soon.
“And I have to go to Burdette Saturday,” she moaned. “Evan is soooo much better at this than I am. He knows how to put people at ease. I seem to make them uptight.”
She stared at her plate for a moment, then suddenly gasped and looked up. “You can go with me!” she exclaimed. “Yes, yes, say you will, Jake! This Saturday—it won’t take long, I promise. We’ll just jet up there, spend a couple of hours and come right back—”
Bad idea, extremely bad idea. He held his hand up, shook his head. “Wait, wait . . . I can’t go to Burdette with you. I don’t know anything about—”
“You don’t have to know anything! Just come with me, I’ll do the talking.”
He had no doubt about that. “I’ve got my own work to do. Besides, what am I supposed to do while you are wheeling and dealing?” he asked, helping himself to some of her chicken. “Just sit there and twiddle my thumbs?”
“Oh, come on, you’re my pal, aren’t you?”
A pal. They were pals. Great. Okay, as long as he knew the ground rules. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
They continued to chat like old friends, at least until the check came. When the waiter put it down, Jake reached for his wallet, but Robin slapped her hand down on the leather case. Jake instantly covered her hand. “Let go,” he said gruffly.
“No. It’s my treat. I invited you, remember?”
“I remember, but I don’t like women to pay my way.”
“Excuse me? We’re on caveman rules? Come on, step into the twenty-first century.” Robin tried to yank the check toward her, but Jake held fast.
“I’m serious,” he said, and he was—very serious.
Robin smiled sweetly. “Don’t be silly, Hammerman—you’re my contractor, so I buy, and besides, I already had dibs.”
“No,” he said. “Let go.”
Robin shrugged. “Okay,” she said and relaxed her hand. Jake reached for his wallet again, at which point Robin suddenly snatched the check up and fled to the front of the room, damn her. And then she brought him home, just like he was a girl, driving the entire distance singing the wrong lyrics to the radio, refusing to listen when he tried to set her straight.
She was exasperating and pushy, this one, but Jake did not want the evening to end. The Thai food had been, well . . . informative . . . and the company had been, oddly, the best he had had in years. She had a way about her, a spark, a unique view of the world. And it seemed that over dinner, the more Robin talked—her illustrative hands moving wildly in time with the tenor of her conversation—the more enchanted he grew.
When they reached his house, he glanced at his watch—ten o’clock. He had a crew showing up at eight in the morning. Today had been grueling; he really needed to sleep. “I’ve got a new Red Temple CD. Wanna come in for a little while?” he heard himself ask.