It’s a little past nine when Dick walks from the plane into Orange County Airport. He hesitates, then dials. “I’m back,” he says, trying to sound bright.
Joanne’s voice is sleepy like he might have woken her. “How was your flight?”
He imagines her on a sofa curled up with a blanket.
“Good. I’ll tell you the details in the morning. It’s late. I just called because you asked me to.”
“I’m glad you did. Are you tired?”
“Actually, no. I slept on the plane.”
“Perfect. You’re awake, and I’m bored. Let’s meet for a drink, and you can fill me in on the conference until we’re ready for bed.”
He doesn’t answer, his mind stuck on the innuendo and whether there was one.
“Are you still there?” she asks.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Sounds good.”
He hangs up and stares at the glowing panel of his phone. Was she flirting? No. She’s just excited about Freeway.
He glances at his reflection in the glass of the terminal as he walks, and the distorted image confirms it. At best he’s average, not offensive but a good measure short of good-looking. And Joanne’s a looker. He sighs in disappointed relief.
* * *
Joanne sits at a small table in the corner, the bar empty except for the two of them and the bartender polishing glasses. Joanne wears a lavender tank that leaves her arms bare and reveals a bit of lace from her blush bra beneath.
“I ordered you a scotch,” she says. “That’s what you drink, right?”
Dick feels like a beer. “Perfect.”
“So tell me everything,” she says excitedly.
For an hour, Dick fills her in on the conference and the promising prospects for Freeway, exaggerating how much he learned during the limited time he actually spent at the conference.
Two scotches later, the topic exhausted, he says, “So, have I sufficiently bored you so you can sleep?”
“Not yet. You’ll have to try harder.” She smirks and looks at him through mascara-coated lashes with an expression that definitely does not seem all business.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, shocking himself and her, her eyes pulsing wide and causing him to backtrack. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I did.”
She sets her hand on his, stopping him. “Walk me to my car.”
Dick throws too much money on the table and, eyes avoiding hers, leads her from the bar. When they’re in front of her Lexus, she places her hand on his right cheek and pecks him on the left. “Richard, thank you for meeting me tonight. I had a wonderful time.”
He wants to reach out for more, but she’s already turned away.