A warm glow that had nothing to do with the wine filled me. He wanted me to be there. I mean, duh, he’d sent me the ticket. But the fact that he said it made me happy.
We finished our dinner making small talk about the band, about performing, and about music in general. I stood to gather the dishes and Jack jumped up, offering to help. “No, don’t be silly. You brought me dinner. I can tidy up.” I felt his eyes on me as I scraped the plates clean and stacked them in the dishwasher.
Feeling a little bit like there was an imbalance, that he kept bringing me food and I had not reciprocated, I asked if he’d like some ice cream for dessert.
His eyes took on a predatory gleam. “Eve, do you know that’s a fantasy of mine?”
“What? Ice cream? Am I going to feel uncomfortable every time I go down the ice cream aisle now?”
“Well, more specifically having a beautiful woman offer me ice cream. There are so many possibilities with ice cream…”
I could feel myself flushing and turned to pull small bowls out of the cupboard. “Well, the possibilities here are chocolate brownie chunk and cherry vanilla.”
“Is there chocolate sauce?” How did he manage to make that sound seductive?
“You haven’t earned chocolate sauce yet.” I retorted. “Maybe after the concert.” Where had this brazenness come from?
He smiled wickedly and said, “If there’s no sauce then I’ll take the cherry vanilla. That’ll leave more chocolate brownie chunk for you.”
“How did you know that was my choice?”
His smile widened. “Eve, come on…chocolate.”
He had me pegged all right. I served up our ice cream and set the bowls and spoons on the table. Sitting down and scooping up a bite of my ice cream I licked it to catch any errant drips, then slowly slid the whole spoon into my mouth and moaned.
“Eve,” Jack’s voice was tight, “did you want to know what my whole fantasy is?”
“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” I really enjoyed the feeling of power that came from teasing him. His eyes were fixed on my mouth as I ate. Somehow that made my dessert taste even more decadent.
“Eat up, Jack, before it melts. It’s a shame to waste ice cream.”
Keeping his eyes fixed on mine, he spooned up a bite of ice cream, moving it slowly toward his mouth, lips parted slightly, ready to accept the offering of cherry vanilla. And then it spilled all down his front. I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. I jumped up to get a cloth to wipe up the spill while he chuckled.
“Yeah, there’s a reason I’m not known for my smooth moves.” he said ruefully as he mopped at his chest.
“Aw, Jack, that was an awesome move. Great comedic timing, for sure.”
“Yeah, but not the kind of move that gets the ladies.” He looked at me meaningfully.
I tilted my head to the side and said, thoughtfully, “You never know. It would definitely have to be the right lady, though.”
“True. It’s always key to make sure you have the right one.”
We let that comment hang in the air as we finished our ice cream. I expected he would have to dash as soon as he was done, but he surprised me.
“Eve, can I play your piano?” Then he cringed and dropped his head back. “Oh man, how did I manage to make that sound dirty?”
I smiled and said, “Jack, you are most welcome to play mySteinway.But I must warn you, it could be painful.”
“Painful?”
“Try it and see.” I led the way into the living room and sat in one of the plush armchairs as he sat at the piano bench. He looked into the distance for a moment, then placed his hands on the keyboard and began to play. And quickly stopped.
“Eve, sounds like that are against the Geneva convention! What have you done to this poor instrument?”
“I warned you,” I laughed. “I have never had it tuned, and I don’t know how long it was before I bought it that it was last tuned.”
He turned to me, mock seriously. “Eve, you could be prosecuted for crimes against music with this atrocity.”
