Finding Forever (8 page)

“I’ve always wanted to go.” If it was a test, he passed with flying colors.

“Great. Does tomorrow work? We wrap filming at five.”

“Tomorrow’s f—” Jordan stopped abruptly as she remembered what day it was “Actually, tomorrow’s not fine. It’s my meeting night.” She thought about what Carl had said about dating someone who didn’t understand her recovery. “I’m really sorry.”

“What for? There are other nights. Wednesday’s bad for me because we usually film late. Thursday?”

Jordan smiled. So far Jake seemed to understand pretty well. “Thursday’s great.”

There was nothing remarkable about the beige stucco building that Jake stood in front of. He looked again at the address he’d written down, which matched the numbers on the building’s facade. The sign read
Siempre
and underneath the name, it proclaimed itself to be Grande Valley’s only Gaucho-style grill. Remarkable or not, this was the restaurant Jordan wanted to dine at.

Jake glanced at his watch. 10:30. After some cajoling—and an offer of passes to the movie set—the restaurant’s owner
had agreed to give him a tour of the restaurant before it opened for the day so he could select the table he wanted that evening. Jake didn’t normally throw Hollywood weight around, but he got the impression that Jordan wasn’t used to men treating her right and wanted tonight to be different. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside the dimly lit entryway.

“Señor Morrison?”  The man who greeted him wasn’t much older than Jake and wore a starched white shirt and black pants.

“Yes.” He extended his hand. “Call me Jake.”

“Ernesto Molina.” The man shook his hand. “Welcome to
Siempre
.”

“Thank you, and thanks for meeting with me early,” he said. “I want tonight to be perfect.”

“She is special, then, your señorita?”

Jake wasn’t sure how Jordan would take to being called his señorita, but in the presence of the other man, he simply nodded. “Yes, she is.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Ernesto assured him. “Let me show you our best table.”

Jake followed him through a dining room filled with wooden tables, a few larger, but most small and intimate, and all tastefully adorned with white linen. “Right this way.” Ernesto pointed to a curved staircase which led to a small, private balcony overlooking the main dining room floor. “Secluded.” Ernesto waved his hand over the railing, gesturing to the dining room below. “Yet not isolated.”

Jake looked around the balcony and decided Ernesto was right. It was situated such that some might not even notice it was there, offering privacy, but remained close enough to the rest of the restaurant to experience its ambience. “Wow.”

“So you like it?” Ernesto beamed. “I expected you would. It’s our most popular table for proposals.”

Proposals? Did he just say proposals? Maybe this wasn’t the right table after all. “Whoa, not so fast.” Jake shook his head. “I’m not planning a proposal.”

“Perhaps not yet.” Ernesto winked. “But who knows?
Siempre
, do you know what it means?”

Jake shook head. “No, sorry. My Spanish isn’t very good.” He could order beer and ask for the bathroom, but little else.

“Forever,” Ernesto explained. “We are the restaurant of forever.”

Nothing like putting pressure on a guy.
Jake took another look around the balcony. Since he was pretty sure Jordan wasn’t expecting a proposal, and didn’t think her friend would set him up for disaster, he nodded. “Okay. I think this table will be perfect.”

“Excellent choice. Your señorita will be very pleased,” Ernesto said. “You’d like the reservation for six-thirty, then?”

Jake hoped Jordan would, indeed, be very pleased. “Yes,” he said. “There’s one more thing, and I realize it’s probably an odd request.”

“Anything, señor.”

“I’m sure your wine list is fabulous, but I’d like you to ask our server to not mention it to us.”

***

Jordan stripped out of the red dress, tossing it in a pile of other rejects on her bedroom floor. Jake would be there in twenty minutes and she had no idea what to wear. “See, this is why dating is overrated,” she told Beth. “It’s way too stressful.”

“I completely agree,” her friend said.

Jordan stared at her, aghast. “You do?”

“Yes. This whole thing of having to choose between two closets full of designer clothes, all of which you look gorgeous in, to get ready for dinner at a romantic restaurant with Hollywood’s newest leading man.” Beth gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re right. It sucks to be Jordan. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jordan glared at her. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s a fine trait,” Beth said. “And sometimes it’s the only way to deal with you. Wear the
green peplum dress with the cut-out back.”

“You think so?” Jordan frowned as she went back to the closet. She pulled out the dress and held it up. “Really?”

“Unless you plan to go to dinner in your underwear, you need to decide on something. Why not that?”

“I’ve never been sure about the bow at the waist.” Still, Jordan stepped into the dress.

“You’re thin enough to get away with it, and the color’s great on you.” Beth began to pick up the clothes on the floor. “Besides, that open back is going to drive him wild.”

“Well, in that case...” Jordan did a little turn, studying her reflection in the full length mirror. Not bad. She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. It would have to do. She went over to her jewelry case to try to find
matching earrings. “By the way, you don’t have to pick up after me.” It was pathetic enough that she couldn’t get ready for a date on her own. She didn’t need Beth acting as her personal maid, too.

“No, but you’re running out of time, and you can’t exactly bring a guy back here for sex with clothes all over the floor, can you?”

Jordan turned around to find Beth smirking. “What makes you think I plan on bringing him back here for sex?”

Beth slipped one of the hangers back in the closet. “It’s your third date, isn’t it?”

“You watched too much
Sex and the City
,” Jordan said. “That’s not a real rule.” Was it? And was it really the third date? If pizza at Joey’s counted, then yes, it probably was. On the other hand, if the day at the movie set counted as a date, then taco Saturday would have been the third. And Jordan had been willing, then, before Jake put a halt to things. Maybe the movie set didn’t count, though, in which case this was the third date. If it was a real rule, was she obligated to deliver? Yes, dating was way too stressful.

She jumped when the doorbell rang.
Great. He’s here and I don’t have any answers.

“You mean he knows the access code already? Yep. It’s serious.” Beth grinned. “I’ll get it. Finish your makeup. I know you don’t leave home without lipstick.”

Since Beth was right about the lipstick, Jordan took a few more minutes with her hair and makeup. When she emerged from her room, she found Jake alone, leaning against the wall, sporting a light gray suit with a dark blue open-collar shirt. She’d always liked the dark shirt contrasting with light suit look, and on him, it was especially gorgeous. “Hi,” she said, hoping her voice reflected a steadiness her legs didn’t feel. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Jake let out a soft whistle. “It was worth the wait. You’re stunning.” He held out his arm and Jordan linked hers through it. “I hope you don’t show me up too much.”

***

Since its grand opening two years before,
Siempre
had earned a reputation as the place to go in Grande Valley for anniversary dinners or falling in love. Since the date of her last drink was the only anniversary Jordan marked, and she never allowed herself to believe falling in love was an option for her, she’d all but dismissed the idea of ever dining there. Now she found herself being escorted to a private table while the host explained the Argentinean motifs that decorated the restaurants, including the painting of the Buenos Aires Obelisk that adorned the wall behind their table.

“It reminds me of the Washington monument,” Jordan observed as Jake pulled her chair out.

“I thought the same when I saw it this morning.”

Jordan looked at him with surprise. “You were here this morning?”

“Guilty.” A mischievous grin spread across his face. “How else would I know what table would be perfect?”

“You did good.” She cast her gaze to the dining room below and noticed they even had a view of the grilling area of the kitchen.
Real good.

A uniformed waiter appeared and explained the open-flamed gaucho-style grilling to them before asking what they wanted to drink. “Sparkling water with a twist of lemon,” Jordan said, surprised not to hear an elaborate sell of the restaurant wine list.

“Same for me,” Jake said.

The waiter nodded. “Excellent. I’ll give you a few minutes to study the menu. Tonight’s special is the
Loma al vino tinto
, which is a seven-ounce tenderloin in a red wine sauce. I highly recommend it,” he added before leaving them alone.

“The best-
laid plans,” Jake muttered, chuckling a little.

“What do you mean?”

“I specifically asked them not to launch into a whole spiel about the wine list,” he explained. “I never thought about the special.”

“You aren’t expected to think of everything.” Jordan smiled, touched he’d thought of this much.

“Still, it must be difficult…”

“It’s a drinking culture, for sure. Starting in college when it was cool to see how drunk we could get.” In treatment, she’d been forced to take a hard look at her life, recognizing the earliest roots of her problem. “Followed by law school, where I studied hard for six days a week, then got totally plastered on the seventh.” Jordan shook her head the memory. “Real healthy lifestyle, that,” she said dryly.

Jake leaned forward in his seat. “The Hollywood scene sure couldn’t have helped.”

“No.” It was what finally sent Jordan over the edge. She looked at Jake sitting across the table from her, a handsome man in his thirties, but her mind saw a fresh-faced, eager guy in
his twenties sitting in her office, enthusiastic about his first major acting role. A few years later, that enthusiasm had waned, replaced with skepticism and accompanied by a bottle of vodka. Jordan realized how little she knew about the years after that, when her own problems consumed her life. “Forgive me for asking,” she said, trying to broach the subject delicately. “But did you ever have a problem? You know, with alcohol?”

Jake’s brow furrowed as he appeared to consider it. After a minute, he shook his head. “I’m guilty of overindulging sometimes. You know that,” he said. “The open bar at the Daytime Emmys after-party was a favorite hangout of mine.” His lips curled in a sheepish smile, as if he were somehow embarrassed about his youthful excesses, which only made him more attractive. “I’ve always been able to stop when I wanted to, though.”

It pleased Jordan to hear it. “Be glad. I’m glad for you. It’s a toxic town.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m glad you got out. You’re a very strong woman, Jordan.”

“I don’t always feel strong. Some days I just get by.” Jordan picked up the menu, opening it for the first time. “I don’t think I’ll be having the special.”

“I’m not suggesting you should,” Jake said, “but doesn’t the wine all cook out, anyway?”

It was a popular myth. Jordan shook her head. “Not completely. There’s some residual. Granted, probably not enough to make a difference, but I don’t like to flirt with danger.”

***

They butchered a few Spanish pronunciations, but managed to successfully order dinner. Jake learned that an empanada resembled a calzone and that the bife de chorizo mariposa was, indeed, a rib eye in the shape of a butterfly. The food was delicious and the company better.

“So you’ve filled in the blanks between the soaps and the movies,” Jordan said,
after Jake gave her the behind-the-scenes scoop on the forgettable zombie movie. “I don’t know the beginning, though. How did a nice kid from Iowa end up in Hollywood?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?” She smiled, her whole face lighting up, and he knew she was truly interested.

“Mark Twain.”

“Say what?”

Jake laughed at her response. “I shocked my family,” he said. “My dad had thirty years in at John Deere before he retired a few years ago. My brother got a job there right out of high school, too
, and I was expected to do the same. Then the community theater happened the summer I was ten.” He reached for his water glass and took a drink. “I played Huck Finn, and that was all she wrote.”

“Huck Finn? Seriously?” She cocked her head to the side and scrunched up her face as if trying to picture it
, and Jake wanted to kiss her right there at the table. “I bet you were adorable.”

“I guess I was pretty cute, yeah.” Jake shrugged. “Pretty lame story. I bet you’re sorry you asked.”

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner, but I wasn’t a very nice person then,” Jordan said.  “It’s a shame I had to almost lose everything to start caring about people.”

Her perception was so different from the reality Jake remembered that he found himself at a loss how to respond. “For the record, I never saw you that way. I always thought you cared.” He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. “But I won’t deny that you’re even more incredible now.”

***

Jake’s palms were sweating when he pulled the car to a stop in Jordan’s driveway. If possible, he felt almost as nervous as he had when he drove Susie Walker home after the high school prom and didn’t know what to say or whether he should try to kiss her. Back then, the decision was made for him when the porch light turned on and Susie’s dad came out of the house, a stern expression on his face.