Within This Frame (17 page)

Top down, radio blaring, Lance drove to Anne’s aunt and uncle’s house. He put the vehicle in park and waited for Anne to come out, ignoring the sigh of relief Jeff let out when the Jeep was no longer moving. He’d grumbled about his driving the whole way. Asshole. Jeff got out and climbed in back with Maggie. Lance scowled at the street.

Maggie cleared her throat and he met her gaze in the rearview mirror. Lance lifted his eyebrows when she didn’t say anything.

She shook her head and finally said, “Aren’t you going to go to the door?”

“What for?”

“To pick her up and say hello to her relatives?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Jeff snickered. “Because that’s what gentlemen do.”

“Gentlemen?” Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m not a gentleman.”

“We know,” Jeff said all too cheerfully.

Lance shifted his jaw and angled a glare over his shoulder. “I suppose you walked to Maggie’s door and greeted Judith before you met me outside?”

“Yes. I did,” he said, unashamedly gloating.

Cursing, Lance opened the door and jumped out, jogging up the curved sidewalk that led to the brick-sided house. Lance glanced back at the car as he waited for the door to open, wondering what Jeff and Maggie were doing inside the Jeep. Hands fisted, he thrust his jaw forward and stared at the brown door.

He felt like a jerk, mostly because, out of all the times he’d come to pick up Anne for anything, he’d never come to the door. It wasn’t his thing. And yet, there he stood, all because he had to compete with Jeff. The surprise on Rory York’s face confirmed the rarity of Lance’s present position.

“Hello, Lance. Come in.”

A short and stocky computer genius in his mid-forties, Anne’s uncle was soft spoken and pleasant. He had caterpillar eyebrows and squinty blue eyes with a long, wide nose and a small mouth. Anne clearly got her good looks from her mother’s side.

Lance returned the greeting and followed him inside, clenching and unclenching his hands as his eyes swept over the modern decorating the York family favored. Bold colors, shiny electronics, and geometric shapes took over every room of the high-ceilinged and spacious house. Anytime he’d come to the York house, there was a heavy floral scent present that made him think of old people and funerals.

“Got big plans for the night, Mr. York?” Lance set his expression for casual interest. He felt trapped, like coming to the door meant some kind of commitment he wasn’t ready for, and never would, not with Anne.

Rory York went red in the face, clearing his throat as he looked at the stairwell. “Oh, well. Jessie and I thought we’d stay in, watch a movie. The kids are all at friends’ houses tonight. Anyway, you and Anne have a good time. Anne’s in her room.” He cleared his throat again and glanced at Lance quickly before speed-walking from the room.

So. Mr. and Mrs. York were in for a little kid-less entertainment. Lance watched his retreating form, a smirk lifting his lips. He tapped his fingers on the banister, and with a sigh, vaulted up them. Patience was not his thing either.

Anne’s bedroom was the first door on the right. Lance knocked on the closed door, the sound of music pulsing through it. In three weeks she would travel to Hawaii for a two-week long photo shoot, and then it was back home to California. They’d both been aware of the temporariness of their relationship when it started.

Lance didn’t do long term relationships, and he didn’t do long distance ones either. In fact, he didn’t really do relationships too much at all. He and Anne weren’t even to the one-month mark, and it was the longest he’d stayed with one girl. Already, he was cagey.

The door swung open, he was hit with the scent of apples, and a squeal sounded in his ears as arms wrapped around his neck and a warm mouth latched onto his. Instincts kicked in and he kissed her back, fingers gripping her bony hips. Anne was only two inches shorter than Lance, all of her long and sleek. She didn’t kiss like Maggie, an assessment firmly solidified in his mind with how recently he’d kissed the other. Anne wasn’t a bad kisser, but it felt different. Lukewarm where intensity should be.

“Hi, baby,” she said softly against his mouth.

Lance disengaged her arms from him. He hated being called that, and had told her enough times that she should remember. “Hey. Ready?”

Anne flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “I sure am. I haven’t had anything to eat all day. And I worked out for three hours. I’ve been saving up for tonight.” She flashed a blinding white smile.

She had glittery purple stuff around her eyes and her lips were unnaturally pink, like cotton candy. Lance noted the skimpy yellow top that showed a good deal of her midriff and the short ripped shorts that barely covered her butt cheeks. White cowboy boots completed the ensemble. Physically, everything about her was perfect, and for the first time that he could remember, it bothered him.

He mentally compared what she wore to what Maggie did, and turned away. “Great. Maggie and Jeff are waiting in the Jeep.”

Fingers wrapped around his bicep as they walked, Anne gushed, “I can’t believe I get to meet Maggie Smiley! I
love
her. She is so great on the show.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “You are dating her co-star, you know.”

Anne briefly rested her head against his as they descended the stairs, dropping her hand from his arm. Her voice was dreamy as she said, “I know, and I love him too.”

Lance froze, and when Anne kept walking like she hadn’t just said words she had no right saying, he swallowed thickly and followed her out the door. He heard Maggie’s laughter as they got in the Jeep. The sound of it made him want to smile, but then he remembered it was because of Jeff, and not him, and he slammed the Jeep door.

Maggie, Jeff, and Anne kept the conversation going as he drove. He felt the heat of Maggie’s inquisitive eyes on the back of his head, but refused to meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. Maybe Anne hadn’t meant it like that. She said she loved Maggie too, and until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t known her. He was paranoid, that was all. Overthinking things. People didn’t say they loved each other that early into a relationship. Relationship. The word sounded vile, full of rules and expectations.

The restaurant, ‘Early Bird’, specialized in breakfast foods in uncommon, but amazing combinations. Locally owned and operated for over twenty years, it had been featured in countless magazines and won multiple prizes for its cuisine. Lance ate there at least every other week.

A blackbird with ‘Early Bird’ above it in red cursive lettering was plastered on the side of the pale yellow building, with another on top of the roof. The parking lot was full, which was to be expected on a Saturday night. The air was warm, but not overly humid, and the scents of fried food wafted from the building as they approached.

Hand interlocked with Anne’s, his eyes were on Maggie as they walked toward the door. Jeff walked on the other side of Maggie, shooting Lance irritated looks that he continually ignored. Lance wanted the date to be his and Maggie’s, and forget Jeff and Anne.

Maggie smiled when she caught him watching her, and Lance smiled back.

“I’ve never been here before,” she told him.

“I know.”

“Lance has brought me here a few times,” Anne said. “They have great food.”

“We’ll have to come again, on our own,” Jeff said to Maggie.

Maggie gave a noncommittal reply, which made Lance’s smile widen and Jeff’s frown deepen.

They were seated immediately in a corner booth of the loud, bustling establishment, the hostess blushing and stuttering over her words as she stared first at Lance, then at Maggie. Lance sat directly across from Maggie, with Anne next to him and Jeff across the table from her.

Not yet used to fame, even of a small degree, Maggie looked as nervous at the hostess as she continued to gawk. There was a smile on her face, but it was forced.

“You must be a fan of the show,” Lance said to the brunette, offering a wide grin as she redirected her attention to him.

“Oh my God! I thought it was you two! I mean, the reservation says Lance Denton, but, and then, here you are, and so, yeah, I love ‘Easier Said’! You two are amazing on it. I mean, I’ve watched everything you’ve ever been in, even the commercials, but . . . wow. My name’s Emily, by the way.” She blushed and pushed hair from her face, eyes on Lance.

“Thanks for being a fan, Emily,” he replied. “Maggie and I appreciate all our viewers.”

“Can I . . .” She stared at Maggie and then Lance, hesitating. “I’m not supposed to ask this, but can I get your autographs?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the pen and napkin presented.

Lance scrawled his name onto the napkin and pushed it across the table to Maggie. Her hand trembled as she gripped the pen, and he didn’t release it until she looked at him. Lance winked, and with a shaky laugh, Maggie took the pen and signed her name.

He stared at their names, liking how close they were, paired together like that. Lance Denton and Maggie Smiley. The hostess took the autographed napkin, gushed some more, and disappeared, saying their waitress would be over soon.

“You’re from Iowa, right, Maggie?” Anne asked, eyes sparkling with friendly interest.

Maggie smiled, taking a sip of water. “I am, yes. Are you from the area?”

“Oh, no, I’m from California, way across the country. I’m just staying with my aunt and uncle while I do some modeling work. I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Maggie shot Lance a look, as if gauging his reaction to the imminent departure of his girlfriend.

He stared back, no expression on his face.

“I’ve been to California before. My grandparents live there,” Jeff said. His arm was around the back of the booth, hovering above Maggie’s shoulders.

“Really?” Anne cried excitedly. “What part?”

“Near San Francisco. I’m going to stay with them over Christmas this year.”

“No way! That’s where I’m from! We should totally get together when you’re there. I could be your tour guide, show you all the cool places.”

Jeff looked at Maggie, his face going red. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe.”

She tilted her head questioningly. “You should. It sounds fun,” Maggie told him reassuringly.

The color on his face deepened and he leaned toward her. He opened his mouth, paused, and then said in a low voice, “Well. It’s just that . . . do you . . . I mean . . . I was going to—”

“Maggie, isn’t there a ski trip planned over Christmas for the cast? Near where you live. Somewhere in Minnesota,” Lance said, effectively talking over and silencing Jeff. No way was Maggie getting on a plane and going out of state for two weeks with that guy.

He returned the glare Jeff aimed at him, only he was sure his was more poisonous.

“Um . . . yes. There is.” Maggie gave Lance a relieved look. “I’m going. Are you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he murmured, eyes locked on her.

Maggie turned to Jeff. “You’re not going on the ski trip?”

“He’s not a cast member,” Lance stated, even though the three of them already knew it.

Jeff’s features went from irritated to deadly. “It’s for crew members too,” he said in a toneless voice.

Lance shrugged.

“But no,” he said to Maggie. “I promised my grandparents I’d visit them. I was going to ask you to come along, but it looks like you already have plans.”

Maggie blanched.

Lance sat back. It appeared he didn’t need to do anything—Jeff was well on his way to sabotaging things with Maggie without any help from him. They were on their first date, and he was asking her to go on vacation with him. Classic.

“I was hoping you’d come visit me over Christmas,” Anne said to Lance with a pretty pout on her face.

It was Jeff’s turn to smirk as Lance went still and silent. He didn’t answer Anne. Things were supposed to be simple between them—they dated while she was in Virginia, and then it was done when she left. They needed to have a talk, but at the restaurant was not the place.

Maggie, noticing the tension, drew Anne into conversation. She put the focus on Anne’s modeling career, a subject Anne was happy to talk about, excessively. Amidst the female chatter, Lance studied Jeff as they waited for the waitress. He was shorter and bulkier than Lance, with short brown hair and eyes. There was nothing about him that was better than Lance.

Safe came to mind. Jeff was safe. Safe was dull. He looked at Maggie as she chatted with Anne. Safe would not work for long with Maggie.

The food showed up. Lance frowned at Maggie as she pushed her meal around on her plate without eating much of it. Anne ate all of a salad, minus the dressing, and a roll, and acted like she overindulged. Well, for her, maybe she had.

Anne and Maggie continued to carry the conversation throughout the meal, and when the bill was paid—Maggie insisting she could pay for her own food instead of allowing Jeff—it was obvious the night was close to an end. From Jeff and Maggie’s expressions, bowling looked like it wouldn’t be happening. Good. Because Lance wanted to ditch Anne and Jeff and have Maggie all to himself.

“What now?” Anne wondered, trailing fingers up and down his arm.

“I’m, um, actually really tired,” Maggie said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I think I’ll pass on bowling, if that’s okay.”

“Me too,” Lance said happily. “Really tired.”

Leaning close, Anne pressed her small breasts against his arm and said, “Want to cuddle and take a nap?”

Lance stepped away. “Not tonight.” His tone was cooler than he planned, and when her face fell, he knew their needed discussion was not going to be fun.

“I’m ready to go home too,” Jeff said, staring at Maggie with anger and sadness on his face.

“Well, this was a great double date. We’ll have to do it again,” Lance said with a touch too much enthusiasm. “Shall we?”

The ride was quiet, and when he parked the Jeep outside of Anne’s relatives’ house, he got out at the same time as Anne. Guilt and purpose knifed his skin in short, methodical stabs as he walked her to the door. She was a sweet person. Sure, she was obsessive over her body image, but as a model, that was warranted. He knew she was going to cry. He hated it when they cried.