Options Are Good (3 page)

“Alan, something has come up that I just can’t put off. I’m sorry. And I will make it up to you. But not today. I’m taking off. See you in the morning.”

Alan knew which side his bread was buttered on. Bandy had pulled Alan’s fingers out of the fire too many times to begrudge him one time not doing so. He went to find Randy.

Bandy didn’t go straight home. Though he wasn’t expecting Ana-Bella to be in his truck, he washed it at the drive through car wash, cleaned it carefully, and topped off the tanks before he went home.

He showered and shaved extra carefully, and then took a full ten minutes trying to decide which suit he would wear.

It was a situation where Bandy didn’t have a tremendous number of options. But he did have a few. His black ‘funeral’ suit. His ‘bought at a bargain for a possible cruise that didn’t go through’ light gray tux. The ‘Sunday go to meetin’ dark blue suit. The ‘he couldn’t remember why he bought it’ light gray suit. The ‘dress up like a gangster for Halloween one year’ pinstripe dark charcoal suit.

He finally skipped over the suits and went with one of his three blazers, a pair of nice gray slacks, and a subtle pattern very light pink shirt. The blazer had been an internet find. Not too expensive, Italian leather, beautiful finish, basic black, and it fit him like it was tailored for him. And the pink shirt wasn’t glaring. Just a very soft pink with figured thread work that gave it some texture.

Black zip on dress boots and his black felt wide brim fedora completed the ensemble. Checking his watch every few minutes, Bandy sat down at the computer and began to kill the hour he had before leaving.

Despite watching his watch and the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen, Bandy almost missed his intended departure time. But he sighed in relief, seeing it was exactly six o’clock.

He looked for his black felt wide brim fedora for two long minutes, until he remembered he already had it on. Shaking his head, Bandy headed to the garage to get into the truck.

Suddenly terrified he would get in a traffic accident, or do something that would get him pulled over, Bandy drove carefully, had his lights on well before required, and double checked his seat belt half a dozen times.

But he made it to the steak house in plenty of time. Bandy checked with the maître d’ to see if Ana-Bella had made reservations, by chance. The place was already getting crowded. She had. Under Sheridan. At seven.

Bandy glanced at his watch and hurried outside. He took a seat off by himself on one of the benches, his eyes scanning the road for any sign of Ana-Bella’s semi rig.

It was getting close to seven and Bandy found himself becoming very disappointed when Ana-Bella still hadn’t show up. He took his eyes off the road to look at a taxi that pulled up under the entry canopy. And jumped to his feet when he saw Ana-Bella’s face through the rear passenger seat glass.

His heart was pounding when he hurried over to get the door of the taxi, since the cabbie was making no move to get out and do it. And he said it before he could stop himself.

“You actually showed up!”

“You doubted me?” Ana-Bella asked, lifting one hand up for Bandy to take to help her out of the taxi.

“No. Not you. Me. It is just hard for me to accept someone like you would go out with me. Even on a lost bet.”

With a demure flash of leg, Ana-Bella came out of the taxi to stand beside Bandy. He’d barely closed the door when the taxi took off.

“Guess you already paid him.”

“I did. With no tip. The slug was hitting on me the entire time. And Bandy… Don’t count yourself short. You came across as a nice guy the whole time at the warehouse.”

The light wasn’t bad under the entry canopy, but it was a lot better at the doors to the restaurant and Bandy got a good look at Ana-Bella’s dress. It was all he could do not to whistle. Which he wasn’t inclined to do at any time. But that dress, on Ana-Bella, would bring out the wolf in most men.

“That is some dress,” Bandy said. She was smiling when his eyes met hers again. “You couldn’t have been carrying anything any better.”

“About the dress,” Ana-Bella said her left arm on Bandy’s right as someone held the door open for them. “This isn’t the one I carry… That’s a nice dress. A sun dress, but nice. I bought this one this afternoon. I just wanted something a little more…”

When she hesitated, looked for just the right word, Bandy supplied it for her. “Well, you got your money’s worth, no matter what you paid. You and that dress are beautiful.”

Ana-Bella could tell that it was a heartfelt comment. “Why thank you, Bandy.” After giving the maître d her name and being told it would be another few minutes, the two went to the bar to wait.

With a nice white wine for Ana-Bella, and a neat Irish Mist for Bandy in hand, the two took a stand up table to wait for the call. “Bandy, do you mind if I ask you if Bandy is your real name, or a nickname of some type?” Ana-Bella asked him. She hadn’t objected when he paid for the drinks.

“My real name. The way my Father put it, they were having a hard time coming up with something they liked that was different, but not too outlandish. He said, and I quote, ‘We bandied about dozens of names. And there you go. You became Bandy’.”

“That is rather sweet. Your parents doing okay?”

“No. Lost them both. Auto accident. A tornado literally came up behind them and totally destroyed their car before my Dad could evade it. Just after my high school graduation.”

Ana-Bella’s free hand went to Bandy’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Bandy! That must have been hard.”

“Yeah.” Bandy shrugged. “But it gave me a lifelong dedication for prepping. And the pressure to do well on my own from the start.”

It was obvious that Bandy wanted to change the subject. “And what about your name? Ana-Bella is rather unique. And very fitting for you somehow.”

“Not too unique. You see it sometimes. Usually with two Ns and no hyphen. And it is hyphenated. I’m not sure about fitting. I was conceived in the Anabella Hotel in Anaheim California while my parents were on their honeymoon.”

“Ah. I took it you were from the south. You just look like a southern belle. And the accent…”

“Isn’t too bad, is it?” Ana-Bella asked with a laugh. “You are the perceptive one. I am from the south. Georgia. We moved up to Oklahoma when I was thirteen. But I’m told I still have the accent a little. A lot when I get back to Georgia.”

“That where your parents are? Georgia?”

Ana-Bella shook her head, causing Bandy’s eyes to go to her shimmering hair. “No. They’re still in Oklahoma City. But I get a run to Georgia every once in a while.”

Her name was called and Bandy took her elbow to guide her through the crowd. It had really filled up since she had arrived. Bandy didn’t notice, but Ana-Bella did, that they got more than one appreciative look. Her mostly from guys, and Bandy from more than a few women.

She smiled inwardly. Why she was letting him guide her protectively she wasn’t sure, as she was usually a hard charger and did pretty much everything on her own. She didn’t mind having a door opened or anything, but Bandy’s old style charm and gentlemanliness was nice.

He seated her and then sat across the table from her, placing his hat on one of the other chairs at the table. Bandy only protested slightly when Ana-Bella insisted on appetizers. Bandy gave in when Ana-Bella softly said, “I insist, Bandy. We can share one. This is going to be a good time and I plan to eat hearty. If you want to select and pay for the wine, I won’t object.”

It was enough to satisfy Bandy’s need to contribute and he quickly agreed. And though he didn’t order the most expensive dishes on the menu, he did order what he wanted. And it was a fun time. Despite the crowd, it wasn’t too loud in the restaurant and they were able to carry on conversation without raising their voices.

Bandy didn’t think he’d ever laughed as much as he did that evening. Ana-Bella had dozens of female truck driver experience stories, and most of them were hilarious.

Ana-Bella didn’t hesitate to order a desert, and Bandy followed suit, both having hot tea with their deserts. Bandy caught the wistful look on Ana-Bella’s face as the server took their credit cards up to pay for the meal and wine respectively.

The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about it. “Ana-Bella, It is barely nine. There’s a place a ways down… Would you like to get a nightcap and maybe a dance or two? All on me. I’m not a very good dancer, but…”

“Oh, Bandy! That would be so nice! I haven’t danced since… I can’t even remember when.”

Bandy looked sheepish. “I’m really not very good. But there are always some good dancers there…”

“I go with you; I’ll be dancing with you. Sure! I really don’t have to be anywhere early.”

Smiling much as they had when coming in, the two left. Bandy whistled up a cab. “You took a cab here, too?” Ana-Bella asked.

Bandy shook his head. “No. Just my old truck. It’s fine. Really. But I’d rather take you there in a cab.”

“Well, I won’t object, but I can pay for…”

“Nope. The rest of the evening is on me. I haven’t had such a nice time in… ever… come to think of it.”

“That’s sweet, Bandy,” Ana-Bella said, taking his hand again to get into the cab with a swish of her dress hem.

Again they got a few looks when they came in. “I guess I should explain,” Bandy said after they got a table. “I come here from time to time with a couple of friends with wives that like to dance. I’m not sure why they want me to come, but I do when they ask. Just sit and watch their stuff while they dance the night away.”

“That’s nice that you would do that, Bandy. They don’t ever get you up on the dance floor?”

“Oh, sometimes. Mostly they try to talk me into going and asking some of the other women without partners to dance.”

Ana-Bella grinned. “Trying to get you set up? You said the couples are married?”

“Yeah. And that is probably it,” Bandy said. “I always thought they just wanted me to watch their stuff.”

The waitress was there, and the two ordered drinks again, the same as they’d had before dinner. “I’m going to have to limit it to two,” Ana-Bella told Bandy. “I am on the road tomorrow, even if it is in the afternoon.”

“Okay. And I’ll just have an extra splash on that Irish Mist, and call it good,” Bandy told the waitress. He gave her his credit card. “But keep it open, just in case someone comes by.”

It suddenly struck him how that might have sounded to Ana-Bella and turned nearly panicked eyes on her. “Oh. Look. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I brought you here to show you off! Really! I only wanted to keep the evening going! Not to get my friends to…”

Ana-Bella put her left hand on Bandy’s right and looked him in the eyes. “It is all right, Bandy. I didn’t think a thing of it until you said something. I don’t mind being seen with you by your friends. I trust you to let them know what the situation is, if it was to even come up. I’m a big girl and don’t get my feelings hurt very easily.”

“Oh. Okay. Guess I just over reacted. It just sounded so… self-serving.”

“Forget about it. And let’s dance. I like this number.”

“This one?” Bandy said and gulped audibly.

Ana-Bella took his hand and tugged him up from the table with an enchanting laugh.

Bandy managed to hold his own, and when Ana-Bella got up for a slow dance he didn’t hold her tight, but she didn’t mind having him holding her, so he kept her close. For several in a row.

They’d long finished their drinks and switched to tea again between dances. Reluctantly they both checked their watches just before midnight.

“I really have to get back to the motel,” Ana-Bella said.