I leaned back in my chair and smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." She smiled at me. "Anyway, I took my first job in D.C. but there just weren't any openings in the court I wanted to be in, and so I started applying to different cities and ended up here. And I love it. I really, really love it."
I smiled at her. "That's great, Grace."
She blinked at me, looking like something had just occurred to her. "Your friend…" she said.
"We can talk about that another time, okay? It's a weird situation, but… let's just catch up tonight."
She nodded, pursing her lips slightly. The waiter came over with our beers and took our orders.
When the waiter walked away, Grace said, "That's what you ordered the last time." She grinned.
"I know. You ordered the same thing too."
She nodded and laughed.
I held my beer up. "To fate," I said. "She's a tricky bitch." I meant that in more ways than I could explain.
She huffed out a breath and raised her eyebrows. "That's for dang sure," she said and clinked my bottle, smiling over at me and tilting her head.
Our food came a few minutes later and Grace dove right in. "See," she said around a mouthful of chili cheese dog, "I learned from last time."
I laughed at her and dove into mine too. I could feel cheese sticking to my chin and something gloppy on the side of my mouth.
Grace put her hand over her mouth and laughed out loud, her eyes dancing. "How in the world are you not taken yet, Carson Stinger?" She laughed. I grinned at her but then the smile faded from her face and she just kept looking at me, her eyes wandering down to my mouth as I wiped it with my napkin. She licked her bottom lip and I felt my cock jump in my pants. Fuck.
"Grace–" I started.
"Anyway!" she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table, "this was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs." She frowned more. "I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit, but I fall too far beneath–"
I laughed out loud. "Okay, Buttercup, you can stop now," I said.
Her eyes flew to mine and her cheeks flushed pink. We stared at each other in silence for several beats before she finally whispered, "I missed that."
"Me too," I said quietly.
"Why do you call me Buttercup, Carson?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing even bigger.
I smiled slightly. "Maybe it's because you're as pretty as a flower," I said.
She stared at me for a couple beats, opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She shook her head slightly as if clearing her mind. "Carson, I'm engaged," she said.
My jaw tensed. "Yeah, Grace, I know that."
She searched my face and then shook her head slightly and looked down again. "I'm sorry, that sounded… bitchy or something. I didn't mean to imply that you–"
"Grace," I interrupted, "it's okay. Really. I got you, all right? Let's talk about something else. I'm having a good time with you."
She nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay, thank you."
I nodded and then took another big, sloppy bite of my hot dog. She grinned and then did the same with hers.
We finished our food and the waiter came over and cleared the table. We chatted about living in Vegas for a few minutes as we each finished our beers. When the waiter came over with our bill, I paid and we started to get up to leave, putting on our coats.
"This was fun," Grace said.
I smiled at her. "Yeah, it was. I've wondered for a lot of years how you were doing and it's great to see you so happy."
She paused, smiling, but it looked strained. "I am. And same here. It's great to see you doing so well, looking so… well."
We stared at each other for a few beats and then she moved, breaking the spell. We headed for the door.
"Do you want to walk past the Bellagio fountain?" I asked her. "For old time's sake?" I smiled down at her.
She laughed. "Why not? I haven't been there since… well, you know since, you." She glanced up at me, her smile fading.
We walked in silence for a few minutes before she said, "So, Carson, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I said, as we started across the street.
"Did you do that film that you were scheduled to do the morning after you left Vegas?" she asked quietly. I glanced at her and she lowered her eyes, but kept looking straight ahead.
I hesitated in answering her as we made it past a small group of people, and then I took her hand and pulled her to an empty spot at the edge of the stone railing looking out to Lake Bellagio.
We stopped and she pulled her hand back, staring up into my face. "I showed up," I said, in answer to her question.
Her eyes darted away from mine but when I continued with, "But I didn't follow through with the shoot. I left and I didn't come back," her eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw her shoulders relax.
"Oh," she said. "Well that's… good."
I nodded, not breaking eye contact. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly.
"I looked up your films," she blurted out, her eyes widening.
I froze, my eyes narrowing. What. The. Fuck?
She brought her hands up to her cheeks and looked down. "I'm sorry. That was highly inappropriate to say… I–"
"Why'd you look up my films, Grace?" I asked quietly. I hated knowing that she had seen those. I hated thinking of her sitting at her computer watching me fuck other women. It made me sick. I looked away, out to the water. "Goddamn, Grace, why'd you do that?" I muttered.
A feeling that I hadn't felt in a really damn long time slithered its way through my belly–shame. I had moved past that, and so to feel it now, in front of Grace, sucked.
What did she think about me now that she had seen that? I tensed my jaw. That life felt so far away, so distant from who I was now. But Grace didn't necessarily see it that way.
"Hey," she said, leaning her head to the side to get my attention. I turned back toward her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. It was so long ago, and–"