Will sits down across from me and the waiter comes over. Will orders a white coffee, and me another latte.
“What would like to eat?” he asks me.
“I’ll have a ham and cheese Panini,” I say to the waiter.
“BLT on brown for me,” Will says handing him back the menu.
Will reaches over and takes hold of my hand. I notice how soft his hands are compared to Jake’s rough ones.
“I missed you last night,” he murmurs.
“I missed you too,” I smile.
“So how was it? You have fun with Simone?”
“I did. We got a quite drunk though.”
“Don’t you two always,” he smiles. “Great news about her promotion.”
“It is.” I fidget nervously with my free hand. Taking a deep breath, it’s now or never, I say, “So, I have some news.”
His eyes flicker to mine with interest.
I’m not actually sure where to start first. Maybe just at the beginning.
“Well, I never told you this, not because it’s a big deal or anything, just because it was never really relevant, and I don’t really tell anyone, but growing up, I lived next door to Jake Wethers.”
I see confusion which suddenly clicks into understanding in his eyes.
“Jake Wethers … as in … The Mighty Storm – Jake Wethers.”
“The one and only.” I give him a tight smile.
“Wow!” he says clearly impressed. “Wow. Okay. So did you know him in passing or quite well–”
“He was my best friend.”
“Oh.”
“We lost touch when his family moved to America when we were fourteen, and well we recently just got back in touch.”
His brow furrows. “When?”
“Well, today. This morning.”
“Oh,” he says again. His voice is tight now.
“That’s who I was just interviewing. Vicky managed to land an interview with him and she sent me knowing I knew him–”
“So Vicky knows you knew him?”
Crap.
Why is he so quick. He’s clearly hurt by it.
“Yes … I … um…” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I told her when I was drunk last Christmas, purely accidental and not a big deal.”
The waiter appears with our drinks and food, forcing Will to let go of my hand, and giving me a momentary and welcomed reprieve.
“So you did the interview this morning – how was it seeing him after all this time?” he seems a little easier now.
Good.
“Um … it was little surreal, I guess,” I shrug. “I knew him when he was younger. He’s a lot different now.”
“He most certainly is.” Will’s tone is sharp. It surprises me.
How can he make that statement when he doesn’t even know Jake? I suddenly feel very protective over him.
“So, anyway,” I say, mildly, hiding my annoyance. “Because I was interviewing him we didn’t really get to chat much – you know, catch up on old times, and well, he asked me to join him for dinner tonight.”
He puts the sandwich down that he’d just picked up.
“Jake Wethers has asked my girlfriend out for dinner.” He suddenly sounds all territorial. Not like Will at all.
“It’s not a date, silly. It’s just two old friends catching up.”
“Yes, and one half of those old friends happens to be my very beautiful girlfriend, and the other, the man-whore of the rock world.”
“Will!” I exclaim, shocked. “That’s a little unfair. You don’t even know him.”
“Clearly you do.”
Hang on. When did this turn into an argument?
It must be the expression on my face that prompts him to say, “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crap morning at work, and I was looking forward to seeing you and I guess my green-eyed monster is raising his head a little. You can’t blame me for that – I mean look at you.” He reaches his hand over, cupping my cheek, sinking his fingers into my hair.
“You have nothing to be jealous of.”
“He’s a rich good-looking rock star. I’d have to be a little stupid not to be jealous.”
“That he may be.” I take hold of his hand and kiss his palm. “But he’s not you. And I love you.”
That seems to appease him as his face relaxes a little.
I release his hand, allowing him to pick up his sandwich.
“How long is he in town for?”
“A few days.”
That seems to please him further.
“I guess it will be nice for you to catch up seeing as though you were childhood friends.”
And I loved him.
Covering my thoughts with a smile, I omit that thought and say, “So, as I’ve let you down two nights in a row for my friends now, I’m going to do something special tomorrow night to make it up to you.”
His brows rise. “I’m intrigued. Go on.”
“I’ll leave it to your imagination, and then tomorrow night you can tell me if I fulfilled it.” I grin at him.
“You never fail to make me happy, Trudy, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon, so I’m sure whatever you have planned will live up to my already high standard of you.”
That is so sweet. And now I feel kind of crap for having no clue what I’m going to do to make it up to him tomorrow night. I’m going to have to come up with something awesome.
I pick my panini up and take a bite.