It's Just Love (8 page)

He waved her away, and she slipped into the small, two stall
room, dug out the wide, flat brush, and began to work the barrette out of the
tangled strands, swearing under her breath.

The door opened, and an older woman entered as Coral finished
a string of curses brought on by both the ruination of her hairstyle and the
fact that the clasp seemed permanently knotted into her strands.

The statuesque redhead froze in the doorway then took in the
situation and moved toward Coral. “Oh, no. Let me help.”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

She stood behind Coral and brushed her hands aside. “I
recognize convertible hair when I see it.” With gentle fingers, she worked away
until the evil barrette was free and dropped it on the edge of the sink. “Now
give me that brush, and don’t argue. Is that handsome, dark-haired fellow out
there waiting for you?”

Coral nodded.

“Then we’d better hurry before someone else comes along and
snaps him up. The women around here are sharks, and he’s attractive bait.”

Coral thought of explaining, but realized the pointlessness.
She’d never see the woman again, and frankly, if she was going to get it
together in time to observe their quarry at dinner, she could use all the help
she could get.

And she’d always loved having her hair brushed.

While the other woman repaired the damage to her ‘do’, Coral
watched her reflection in the mirror. In her early sixties, her new friend
still had the bone structure of a great beauty. She chatted away about
inconsiderate men and their cars, and alley cat women who would “steal your
date as soon as look at you” while she brushed and used her fingers to work out
snarls until Coral’s hair hung in a gleaming sheet, as it had pre-Jaguar.

“There. Now do you have a little lipstick or gloss?” She
patted Coral’s shoulder and headed into a stall. “That’s all you need to be
perfect. Have a wonderful evening, dear.”

“Thank you.” Coral fished in her bag and found the tube.
Daubing her lips, she sighed and turned to leave. “You’re like a fairy godmother.
I feel so much better.”

“I played a fairy godmother on Broadway once,” came the
voice from inside the enclosure. “I was happy to help. Have a wonderful dinner
and hang onto that one, dear. He’s a keeper.”

On Broadway? Coral’s jaw dropped. Elizabeth Benner, famous
on stage and screen, had added the role of ladies’ room hairdresser to her
credits. She squeaked out more gratitude and pushed the bathroom door open to
find Gage waiting outside.
A keeper.
Maybe, for someone else. But he was
cute, Ms. Benner had that right.

“You look gorgeous again,” the keeper said.

“Thank you.”
And thanks to one of the most famous people
in the world, who brushed my hair and told me to hang on to you.

To distract herself from ridiculous thoughts, she took in
the famous eatery. Her usual evenings out involved the occasional rituals and
energy raisings with her circle, pot lucks, or weenie roasts on the beach with
some old surfing friends, and, of course, her weakness, Starbucks. Most of the
people she hung out with, in both groups, shared her love of good coffee.

Gage held his hand out, and she took it, allowing him to
lead her to a table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He squeezed her
fingers and released her to pull her chair out while the maître d’ stood by.
Gage pushed her chair in and leaned down to smooth her hair before heading
around to his seat. Focused on the crimson fireball of the sun hovering over
the water, the incongruity of the situation struck her. Why was he touching her
so much? And why was she letting him?

She shrugged the concern away. She needed to get out more.
She should consider dating. The few men in her circle were either taken or too
interested in being the god to whatever incarnation of the goddess—circle
member willing to sleep with them—they could get. Maybe she’d meet someone on
the beach. Right.

Since Sid’s passing, she hadn’t found anyone she wanted to
date. But as her mother reminded her, she was too young to give up pleasures
not yet discovered. And Pagans couldn’t become nuns.

“Nice sunset.”

She snapped back to awareness of her dinner companion. “Yes,
very pretty.” The reds and oranges of flames spread out along the horizon.
“Gorgeous, in fact. I live near the beach.”

“I know.”

Her cheeks heated. Of course he did. He’d picked her up
there.

He bent close, and she leaned across the table, drawn to
him. “There they are.”

“What?” She startled and jerked upright. “Who?” Following
his line of vision, Coral saw their quarry enter. Charlie and Elise.
The
reason we’re here.
Of course. “A cameraman?”

“Sure,” Gage said. “You didn’t think the show would lay out
all the money for their adventures without taping it, did you?”

“I guess I didn’t think at all.” They watched the couple
follow the maître d’ to a table several feet from away. They were close enough
that, if she listened carefully, she could overhear some of their conversation
over the subtle clatter of plates and the chatter of other diners. “Why aren’t
they getting to sit by the window like us?”

“While we will no doubt be filmed a little, the reflections
on the glass make more work for the camera guy.” He winked. “So I guess we got
the romantic seat.”

“Yeah, lucky us,” she murmured.

She lifted the menu from the table and studied the
offerings. Butterflies in her stomach made food sound unappealing, but she had
to eat something. A waiter approached and took their drink orders. Gage’s
request for Glenlivet on the rocks didn’t surprise her, but judging by his
raised brows, her decision to have the same didn’t meet his expectations.

“A scotch drinker?” He accepted his glass and held it toward
her.

Coral lifted hers as well, clinking against his and smiling.
“On occasion.” She took a sip and savored the smooth bite. “Now, shouldn’t we
be paying attention to the loving couple over there?”

“If that’s what you want to call them. She looks bored and
he’s nervous enough to jump out of his skin.”

“I’m not sure how this test is supposed to work. They are
two people thrown together. Even if compatibility isn’t a factor, why would
they fall in love?”

He snorted. “I talked to the interns after the show and they
said when they interviewed them, each thought the other was ‘cute’ or some such
nonsense. So they were attracted to each other to start with.”

That would have been good to know. “So we’re dealing with
two people who have nothing in common, who I am not allowed to give a love
spell to…but who wanted to meet?”

“That’s about it,” he said. “I’d say they don’t have a
chance in a thousand.”

She became more interested in the pair. Her fingers itched
to concoct a love potion or a charm. “There are so many lonely people in the
world. All they need to do is connect with the right person and they can be so
much happier.” She studied the pair; they were looking at anything in the room
but each other.

“On that we can agree.” He nodded, but his expression was
serious, calculating, and she speculated their reasoning differed.

“I think that’s a first,” she said.

He frowned. “I believe it is.”

* * * *

The woman was more sensible than he’d given her credit for.

“There is someone for everyone, and in fact a number of
someones,” he said, delighted to discuss his favorite topic. “Any two people
who have enough in common can have a successful relationship if they have the
right level of commitment. That’s the premise behind my latest book.”

“Really,” she murmured.

“Yes. It’s quite fascinating. I can show you a chart that
depicts the success I’ve seen with various couples based upon the number of
factors that match between them.”

“How interesting.”

She didn’t sound fascinated, but perhaps that was because
she didn’t understand the full concept. The waiter chose that moment to return
for their dinner orders, and between being served their salads and trying to
pay attention to the couple across from them, the topic was lost.

Coral’s face intrigued him. Her tan backlit her green eyes
that sparkled as she told him a story about some particularly great surfing on
a trip to Maui. He felt as if he had spent the day with her on the cresting
waves, sharing her triumph at succeeding to ride the huge rollers and her pain
when a bad fall took her to the sand and scratched a groove into her calf.

“And I still have the scar, but it only reminds me of
Hawaii. I hope to go back one day or maybe even Australia, the Gold Coast.
Waves like no place else.” Enthusiasm rang in her voice, and he fought a sense
of envy.

Sure, he loved his work. It was important and brought him
great satisfaction. But what did he do for sheer enjoyment? Buying the sailboat
had been fun, sailing it might be even better. Maybe he didn’t need to be Mr.
Responsible all day, every day? The unfamiliar idea made him uncomfortable.

“I’d love to take a year and follow the waves, all around
the world, like that old movie,
Endless Summer
.” She smiled, and his
heart thumped. But of course. She was a pretty girl, a lovely woman, and any
man would like her to turn that grin in his direction. “Maybe buy a little
sailboat and just sail away forever.” She leaned back in her chair as the
waiter set her plate in front of her. “This looks great. Thank you.”

He took a bite of his halibut. “Very tasty.”

She swirled linguini around her fork and lifted it to her
mouth. “Mmm, better than that. This is delicious.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, listening to the
awkward conversation from the other table. Nothing improved over there. Elise
tried a topic, something about farming, then, after a few moments, Charlie
mentioned a study he was conducting at work. Nothing. Despite the fact that
their failure to communicate proved him right, Gage hated to see the two so
unhappy. Maybe they would give up after tonight. Going through the process two
more times couldn’t be bearable.

Coral pushed her plate away. “I can’t eat another bite.”

“Not even dessert? I hear they have a chocolate tasting
plate that is pretty good.”

She smiled again, her lovely full lips parting. “Oh, you’ve
got me. Chocolate?”

Gage waved the waiter over and spoke to him, and in a few
moments, the man returned with an oval porcelain plate the size of a turkey
platter, scattered with a wealth of small desserts. Coral sucked in a breath.

“Ohh.” Her hand hovered over the plate. “I don’t know which
to try first. Which one will you have?”

“I never eat sugar.”

She deflated, and her arm dropped to the table.

“Except this once.” He couldn’t stand her sadness. “You pick
one for me.”

She lit again, and his world improved. “Okay. Hmmm, did you
know there would be so many?” She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical
glance.

“Nope. But if you can’t finish them, I’ll have the server
package them to take home with you. Now, choose one for me?”

She lifted a small pastry with a swirl of dark frosting
across the top. “I think this is an éclair, but it looks like it’s filled with
some sort of chocolate cream.” She passed him the treat, and he took a bite,
the depth of bittersweet chocolate and delicacy of the puff pastry sending his
taste buds into ecstasy.

“That’s amazing. He held the half éclair toward her. “You
have to try it.”

She leaned closer, and he stared. When she cast her gaze at
his face, he moved the dessert to her lips and placed it on her tongue. She
closed her eyes, chewing. “Delicious! You were right. Now, you pick one for
me.”

He fed her a truffle, then a spoonful of mousse, and she
tucked a dark chocolate encased cheesecake bit into his mouth. They consumed
every bite of the amazing array.

“I’m going to pay for this. I haven’t had dessert in
months.” His system would be in shock.

She picked up a small glass that had held a rich, smooth
chocolate concoction he had no name for and dipped a finger in, swiped out the
last bit, and stuck her finger in her mouth. She sighed. “I do eat desserts and
pastries on occasion. But not like this…what an extraordinary experience.”

“That it was.” He glanced across the room to Elise and
Charlie’s table, only to find it occupied by an Asian couple smiling at one
another over tropical drinks. “Look over there.”

Coral turned her head and gaped. “When did they leave? Even
the cameraman is gone.”

“Yep, and I have no idea. Probably sometime between the
truffle and the mini molten lava cupcake.”

She stared and him and burst into laughter. “We were in a
chocolate haze.” Clutching her sides, she giggled until every eye in the room
was on her.

Unaccustomed to such overt behavior, he waited for
embarrassment to happen, but it didn’t. Despite the headshot in the back of the
books, no one in Malibu would care who he was.

Three A-List stars sat scattered across the room, as well as
a number of minor celebrities. Elizabeth Benner sat with—Charlie Montclief in a
shadowed corner booth. Here to see his “experiment” in action?

In any case, Gage was small potatoes here, and his behavior
or his date’s—she wasn’t his date—his companion’s, would not be remarked upon.
No paparazzi were admitted, and if word of anything at Chez Boulangerie were to
hit the press, the employees would stand to lose their very lucrative jobs.
Malibu was a safe haven for bigger personages than Gage Middleton, best-selling
author.

“Well, I suppose we’d better go before the haze turns into a
coma.” He stood and walked around to help her from her chair.

“Yes,” she replied. “I only hope we do better next time. We
really fell down on the job.”

Their non-date was better than any real date he’d had in
years, even with Perfect 10 Geena.