by Gail Sattler
Amber shook her head. “No, it looks good on you. It kind of goes with the mustache. I like it. We also have to go to my place so I can fix my hair after being mashed up under this wig for hours.” She reached up to pull the wig off, but as her fingers twined through the strands, she stilled. “Unless you want me to leave this on. And you can leave the mustache on and don’t take the color out of your hair. We can keep our disguises on and go somewhere we’ve never been before and see what happens, then go to Sylvia’s later. This might be fun.”
Chapter Fourteen
Where are we going? Why aren’t we going to the Fancy Schmantzy?”
“Because.” Stan grinned. Even though they’d never been to the Fancy Schmantzy together, it was still familiar to both of them because he drove by it every day on his way to work. Tonight they pretended not to be themselves, and part of the fantasy, at least his, was to go someplace totally unfamiliar to complete the illusion of mystery. It was going to be their special night, even though they weren’t really themselves. “I thought we’d go to that place on Wren and Sidewinder for a big, fat, juicy steak. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s good.”
“Why do men always do that? The first thing you think of when going out is expensive steak. There are other foods that are better for you, and just as elegant.”
He turned to her as he stopped for a red light. “I don’t want elegant. I want meat. I also want to pay. Going there is my idea, and it’s my treat. So don’t argue with me. Go big. Order whatever you want, without guilt. I don’t care if you put on a pound or two. That only proves I can afford to feed you right.” He didn’t like that Amber had been losing weight lately. She hadn’t said she was on a diet, so the reason had to be something unintentional. If worry about Gnorman and the trophy was the cause, he would do his best tonight to make her forget her troubles and simply have fun, like she said.
Besides, all of those really thin women in the magazines were probably anemic from lack of good nutrition. Tonight he was going to make sure that whatever Amber ate, it was good as well as good for her.
“Are you sure about that? We didn’t plan for this. Its only spur of the moment.”
“I had planned on taking you out for a nice lunch, then not only did we just have burgers, you insisted on paying for your own. If you think you’re going to pay for your own meal tonight, I’m going to turn around and take you home. In fact, I’m hoping you’re going to have steak and lobster.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Stan held his breath, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t call his bluff. He would take her home and do Chinese takeout rather than have her pay for her own meal again.
“You want to feed me steak and lobster? Really? I’ve never had lobster before.”
He wasn’t above using temptation. He turned and flashed her a grin as the traffic started moving forward. “It’s really good. I mean really, really good.”
She raised one hand and flicked the hair on the wig. He noticed she’d been doing a lot of that today.
The power of suggestion made one hand leave the steering wheel to brush the hair on the fake mustache with his fingertips.
Amber hadn’t said the wig was uncomfortable. He imagined it felt like a hat, except snugger. The mustache wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it felt strange. It came with a small bottle of alcohol-based oily adhesive, flexible with his skin but sticky enough so that the mustache wouldn’t fall off. He would have taken it off, but for some reason Amber liked it.
He planned to take a closer look at himself in the mirror when he got home. When he’d put it on, he had only concentrated on getting it straight and making sure none of the hairs got in his mouth. He didn’t know what it was made out of, but he didn’t really want to know.
They chatted about nothing in particular as he drove, but every time he stopped at a red light, Amber used the time to touch up her eye makeup and reapply a dark red lipstick.
He pulled into a parking spot near the restaurant’s entrance, then ran around to Amber’s side and opened her door while she tugged at the wig again. “Do you think I should wear the glasses? They are part of the disguise.”
Stan extended one hand to help her out. “Only if you want to. If you can’t see properly, or if you think they’ll give you a headache, don’t.”
She slipped them on. “I’d probably get a headache if I was looking at distances, but I think I’ll be fine if I only look at you. Is that okay?”
He gulped. If she only looked at him, he didn’t know if that made him happy or nervous. “Sure.”
Since it was still early for supper, they were escorted to a table without waiting.
After the waiter handed them menus and left, Amber nudged the glasses halfway down her nose, lowered her head, and peered around the restaurant over top of them.
Stan would check the place out after they ordered. He picked up the menu and started looking for the steak section. Just as he found it, Amber’s toes poked at his ankle.
“Look,” she whispered. “To my left. There’s a couple from the garden club. I don’t remember their names, but I’ve spoken to them at the meetings.”
Without moving his head, Stan looked at the couple in question. “His name is Blake. I don’t remember his wife’s name. And over there, a couple of tables down. There’s Debbie and Ralph.” He went back to the menu to read the choices to decide if he wanted filet mignon, rib eye, chateaubriand, or a good old-fashioned T-bone.
“I see them,” she whispered back. “I heard Ralph was browsing inside the jewelry store.” Her voice lowered even more. “Without Debbie.”
His attention immediately left the selection of steaks, and he studied the young couple gazing at each other with stars in their eyes that had nothing to do with the golden glow of the candle flickering between them. “I heard that too.”
He wondered what it would be like to be in love like that, with eyes only for each other, not caring about the rest of the world. His first thoughts went to Jordan at work. He and his wife were due to have a baby in a few weeks. He could tell whenever Jordan’s wife phoned. Jordan’s voice changed to a softer and more melodic tone, deeper, and he always spoke in complete sentences. Whenever Jordan’s buddies phoned, the conversations were over quickly, with the repeated word dude having an assorted number of meanings with the changes in the tone of Jordan’s voice.
Man-speak. Stan could understand that.
“Well? What do you think?”
Stan blinked and looked back to Amber, who was studying him through the glasses.
He felt his ears heat up. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
Her head tipped a little bit. “What? You can tell me.”
On that, she was right. He could tell her everything, only he usually didn’t. Most of the time, she guessed, and she was right.
“You were looking at Debbie and Ralph and comparing them to Jordan and Trish, weren’t you?”
He grinned. “Dude.”
“You are so busted.” She rolled her eyes, and it seemed hypnotic with all the eye makeup she had on. All he could do was stare. And wish that she wasn’t wearing those silly glasses.
The waiter appeared. “Are you ready to order? Or would you like to hear about our special? Tonight we have a romantic dinner combination of steak and lobster for two with asparagus and an assortment of our favorite appetizers.”
Amber’s eyes widened, which he took to mean they were ordering the special.
He closed his menu. The rib eye he wanted no longer mattered. An any-kind-of-steak and lobster dinner sounded exactly like the right thing for tonight. He could easily ignore the romantic part of the special, especially since he was with Amber, and just enjoy the combo.
The waiter took the details for their sides and how they wanted their steaks cooked, and left as quietly as he came.
&nb
sp; Again Amber lowered the glasses and looked around the restaurant. “This is quite the romantic place. Every table has two people who are obviously a couple at it.”
“Don’t look now, but another couple just walked in.” Stan held his breath, not knowing if he should crawl under the table, or stand and shake hands.
Amber gasped, and shrank in her seat. “Aunt Edna and Uncle Bill. What are they doing here? Everything this place serves is loaded with cholesterol.”
“It looks like your aunt is helping your uncle break his diet.”
“Look at the waiter. He knows them. I’ve heard Aunt Edna and Uncle Bill talking about date night. This must be it. They must come here once a week.”
Stan snickered, making sure to remain quiet. “Maybe this is why they’re still in love after all those years.”
“We can’t let them know we’re here. Knowing we know would destroy a special secret they’ve managed to keep from everyone else for a lot of years.”
“What about Blake and his wife, and Ralph and Debbie?”
Amber glanced at the other two couples over the top of the glasses. Neither couple moved or broke eye contact. “They don’t seem to have noticed, they’re so wrapped up in each other. The waiter led Aunt Edna and Uncle Bill to a small private table in the corner, and they’ve got their backs to the rest of the restaurant. Unless you saw them come in, you wouldn’t know they were there. We can’t let them know we saw them.”
“Isn’t that the purpose of our disguises? So no one knows it’s us?” When they started the evening it had just been a game. Now failure was no longer an option. “All we have to do is blend in.”
Again Amber’s gaze swept the restaurant, and he was sure she had the same impression he did. This place was a romantic hideaway. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He’d never been to a place like this before. He didn’t know if she had either, except that if she had, the thought bothered him.
Suddenly she smiled a quirky little smile, leaned forward, and ran her fingers up the back of his hand.
His heart stopped, then picked up in double time at the intimate touch.
Her voice dropped to a husky drawl. “Is my wig on straight? I can’t tell, but I think I pulled it to the right.”
His heart continued to pound as he mentally calculated if both sides of the blonde wig were equidistant from each eye.
Wide, beautiful eyes. Eyes that were the windows to her soul.
“Well?”
“Yeah. Sure. It’s fine.”
As quietly as the previous time, the waiter returned, this time with their appetizers, which he placed in the middle of the table for them to share.
Stan thought there was never a better time for food. Even little snacks he couldn’t identify.
They were in a public restaurant, so instead of saying grace aloud, he reached forward so they could hold hands across the table. He said his prayer in silence, and he knew Amber did too. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze when he finished, and she returned the squeeze so that he knew she was too.
Amber picked up one of the little morsels, blew on it, and wrapped her lips around it without having any food come in contact with the lipstick, and it disappeared. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Whatever that was, you’ve got to have one.”
He didn’t say a word while they shared the appetizers. All he could do was listen to whatever she said and watch her eat, mesmerized by her ruby red lips. When every piece was gone, he thought it amazing that her lipstick still looked just as perfect as when they sat down. He’d wondered how women did that, and now he knew.
She wasn’t so successful when the steak and lobster came. By the time they were done, all traces of her lipstick were as gone as the food.
He had to smile. She’d eaten most of his lobster, and he’d eaten most of her steak. He couldn’t say which one of them enjoyed the meal more.
Time was on their side. They finished eating before Bill and Edna, and the other two couples they knew from the garden club had already left. They chose to forgo the dessert and decided to get while the getting was good.
Stan still wanted to keep the romantic mood of the restaurant, so he reached out and rested his fingers at the small of Amber’s back to escort her as they left the restaurant, just like they were on a real date.
He’d never done something like this before. He’d touched her, but touching her this way seemed more personal, more intimate. Probably because they didn’t have that kind of relationship.
But maybe it was about time to change that. He couldn’t remember ever enjoying himself more while out on a date. Not that he’d been on many. But this one was different.
She smiled at him as he opened the car door and waited for her to be comfortably seated before closing it and jogging around to the driver’s door and getting in.
This time she removed the glasses right away.
“Time to go home,” she said as he started the engine.
Stan shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s still early. I think we should go to Sylvia’s house and check on Gnorman.”
With the glasses already off, Amber stuck her fingers under the wig, pulled it off, shook her head like a wet dog, and ran her fingers through her hair until it hung reasonably normal. Lifting her purse, she reached inside, removed a brush, and started working her hair into its usual shape. “I’m fine, but we can’t go anywhere with you looking like that.”
For a moment he simply stared at her. Without the glasses and the wig, his Amber was back. Yet something had changed. He’d always thought she was pretty, but tonight she was downright beautiful, even though her makeup was a little worn off, the lipstick was gone, and her hair was a mess despite her best attempts with the brush.
Using the utmost care, he tried not to wince in front of Amber as he slowly pulled off the mustache like a bandage and rubbed the tender skin. When it felt like all remnants of the glue were gone, he leaned back, reached behind the seats, pulled out his favorite baseball cap, and plopped it on his head, effectively covering most of his hair. He removed the suit jacket and tie, unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves halfway up his forearms, and grinned at Amber. “I’m ready to be seen in public if you are. Let’s go.”
Amber stood on her doorstep, fiddling with her keys while Stan waited behind her.
Their visit with Sylvia had been short. Gnorman was still in place as an aging rock star in Sylvia’s backyard, and no additional notes had been left.
So now, here she was, back home, with Stan behind her waiting to bid her good night.
Only she didn’t know what this particular good night involved. Tonight had been different than any other night she’d ever spent with him.
She wasn’t quite sure, but despite the strange circumstances, it had felt like a date. Except this one had been with Stan, so it couldn’t have been a date.
They’d been together at a romantic restaurant with soft music playing in the background, surrounded by couples, young and old, in various stages of a life of love.
Except she’d been with Stan. Her lifelong friend. Her buddy.
Now, here they were. If this had been a real date, it would be time for the traditional good-night kiss. She couldn’t do that with Stan.
Stan’s voice echoed behind her while she stood like a statue in front of the door, afraid to turn around and face him.
“I suppose we should decide what we’re going to do.”
She gulped. She really didn’t know. She’d read enough romance novels and knew enough people to know that if they kissed—really kissed—that things would never be the same between them again. She didn’t want that. Stan had always been her best friend in the whole world, and she wanted him to always be her best friend.
Except she wondered what it would be like if they did kiss, bumpi
ng their relationship up to the next level. Was she willing to take that risk? If it didn’t work, there was no going back.
Amber tested the doorknob, opened the door just an inch then, and turned around in slow motion. Stan stepped closer to her. So close that he could kiss her. Which would have been a reasonable conclusion to the wonderful evening they’d shared. More than just the evening, like so often, they’d shared the entire day. He’d picked her up for church, they’d gone out for lunch, they’d been on an adventure and visited her competitor’s store, and he’d taken her out for the best meal she’d had in her entire life. They’d been together, side by side, for nearly twelve hours.
He smiled and brushed her cheek with one finger. “I know this sounds lame, but I had a really nice time tonight. I hope you did too.”
This was it. The set-up-to-kiss-you line. Her heart started pounding like her pottery wheel when a stone got stuck in the gear. She gulped. “Yeah. I did.”
There was so much more she could have said, and should have said, but everything in her brain felt as mixed up as if she’d put all her thoughts into a paper bag and turned it upside down and shaken it. The evening had been so right, but yet so wrong. The tall, dark, handsome man standing kissing distance in front of her was Good Ol’ Stan.
If she didn’t do this now, she wouldn’t be able to maintain her courage.
“Thank you,” she whispered, rested her hands on his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, brushed a quick kiss on his cheek, then spun around and dashed inside her townhouse and closed the door.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called gently through the door.
“Yeah. Tomorrow,” she called back through the wood. Coward that she was.
Amber pressed her ear to the door. Stan’s steps echoed, becoming quieter as he walked the length of her sidewalk.
His pickup started, and he drove way.
Amber pushed her hands to the door and squeezed her eyes shut.
