“Don’t you know? Women are supposed to have lots of little black dresses.” Waving her hand down the front, she admitted, “Of course, this isn’t exactly little.”
“Well, if you consider how petite you are, then it could be considered little even if it goes to the floor.”
She cocked her hip and tapped her toe as her eyes narrowed. “Are you cracking a short joke?”
Shaking his head slowly, he continued to hold her gaze. “I assure you, Ms. Monroe, I think every inch of you is beautiful.” His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth where once again her top teeth pressed against her bottom lip.
“You certainly know how to turn a phrase, Mr. Claiborne.”
“Hmm… when will you call me Clay?”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and tapped her forefinger against her chin. “Considering this is our second date, I think we’re almost to the first name basis.”
“Is there any chance I can entice you out to eat? I know it’s late, but I thought you might be hungry.” He saw interest flare in her eyes. “Oh, I seemed to have hit upon the right subject. Food.”
She hesitated before admitting, “I skipped lunch today—”
Not waiting for her to say anything else, he guided her back to the door leading to the area behind the stage. “Please, allow me to take you to dinner. I know a little diner where you can get breakfast food all day and all night.”
Her eyes brightened, and her hand landed on her chest. “Oh, my God, that sounds amazing.”
He smiled at the enthusiastic comment. “Then gather what you need backstage, and I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
She smiled and nodded, then disappeared through the door. While waiting, the thought struck him that if she was like the women his friends were with, then right about now she’d get kidnapped… or shot at… or disappear suspiciously, leaving him to search for her. Another moment slipped by, and his heartbeat increased as he waited. Lifting his hand, he placed it on the door, determined to go look for her. Then suddenly, the door flung open and she reappeared.
No longer in her black dress, she wore black slacks, a demure white blouse, and carried a royal blue coat along with her violin case. Silently chastising himself for his ridiculous thoughts, he helped her slide her arms into her coat. With his hand once again on her back, he gently guided her toward the door.
Before walking out, she placed her hand on his arm. “I texted a friend of mine, and she asked who I was going out with. I realized that I should see some ID.”
“Smart woman,” he rushed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. To be honest, I’m embarrassed that I didn’t.”
She laughed as she squeezed his arm. “Well, we can just say that you were dumbfounded by my beauty and couldn’t think of anything practical.”
He didn’t laugh along with her, instead holding her gaze. “You’re not far from the truth.” He pulled out his wallet and handed his driver’s license to her.
She looked at it carefully and then said, “It’s nice to see that your name really is Hank Claiborne.” Pulling out her phone, she quickly typed a message and hit send. “I’m sending your name and license number to my friend. I know that doesn’t sound very trusting—”
“Don’t worry about it, Christina. You’re being smart and doing exactly what I want you to do.” Waving his hand toward his SUV, he said, “Now, let’s eat.”
The diner was a quick drive, and after they ordered, he glanced around the restaurant he’d eaten at several times. Red vinyl seats, plastic menus, paper napkins rolled around the silverware. Swinging his gaze back to her, he cringed. I should have taken her somewhere nice. “I’m sorry that this place isn’t… um… well, quite so…”
Her large eyes blinked at him from behind her glasses. “Isn’t what?”
Pulling at the collar of his shirt, he held her gaze. “I should have taken you somewhere much nicer.”
“Somewhere fancier?”
When he nodded, she grinned. “But then I couldn’t have ordered French toast, which, by the way, is my all-time favorite breakfast food.” Her smile dropped slightly as her brow crinkled. “Well, that and scrambled eggs. Oh, and bacon.”
His nerves easing, he chuckled. “So, you’re saying this simple diner is not turning you off of our second date?”
“Quite the contrary. If you’d tried to pawn off fancy-schmancy food this late at night, I would have gagged!” She looked around before settling her gaze back on him and a gentle smile crossed her face. “This place is perfect. And now you know more random facts about me.”
When their food arrived, he watched as she dug into her favorites with obvious joy. She drank juice instead of coffee but appeared to appreciate every bite.
“So, what’s your favorite food?” she asked, licking syrup off her lips.
His focus zeroed in on her lips and his brain threatened to short circuit. “Uh… what?”
“Your favorite food,” she laughed.
“Right… well, to be honest, I like a lot of things.” When she lifted her brows in a prodding manner, he continued, “I love a medium-rare steak but can chow down on a hamburger.”
“Oh, a meat and potatoes man.”
“I can give equal devotion to seafood, pork chops, barbeque chicken, and right now, eggs and bacon.”
“I knew we had that in common!” she exclaimed, biting into another piece of bacon.
He loved her enthusiastic responses. “Do you usually skip lunch before a concert?”
Shaking her head, she swallowed. “No, not really. Today I was busy with practice and just didn’t have time.” She held his gaze for a moment before asking, “Did you enjoy the concert tonight?”
His lips curved slightly at the memory, and he nodded slowly. “It was beautiful. I confess that I’ve never heard the Mahler Symphony No. 5 in person before. It was exquisite.” She smiled at his response, and he chuckled. “Are you testing me?”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I was just curious. Have you always loved orchestras?”
“My mom used to listen all the time. She had some old LPs and tons of cassette tapes. She was not particularly musical herself but loved all types of music. We listened to jazz, symphonies, bluegrass… she loved the music from the ‘60s and ‘70s as well.”
“So, you’re a fan of The Mamas and the Papas as well as Bach?”
“Absolutely. In my house, there was equal respect for Beethoven as well as The Righteous Brothers.”
She laughed as she pushed her glasses up on her nose, and he stared into her twinkling eyes. Sucked in. That was the only way he could describe what he was feeling at the moment. Absolutely sucked into her beauty, her words, and her music. Suddenly, wanting to know everything about her, he asked, “What do you do besides make music so beautiful that it could make a grown man weep?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Wow, what a job description you’ve just given me!”
“I never lie,” he said, his voice now solemn.
She inhaled deeply then let her breath out slowly. “Okay… well, let’s see. I practice my violin. I work with the symphony as well as practice with a string quartet and a small group of like-minded musicians. I also teach privately but only have a few select students. I’d like to teach more but there’s only so many hours in a day.”