st_clare (
st_clare) wrote in
birthright_rpg2013-09-24 06:08 pm
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Best Laid Plans
Julianna decided on seafood instead of steak when she and Devin finally got to arrange their dinner plans, and she'd dressed casually because she didn't want the writer jumping to conclusions about this evening. Yes, she found him attractive, and she'd like to get to know him better, but the 'maybe' column wasn't a terrible place to occupy.
The hostess had already seated her, and she sipped at the beverage she'd taken the liberty of ordering while she waited. She'd slept alone after the event at the Skylark because she'd sent Nathan home after a fairly intense make-out session on her couch. He'd grumbled, but he'd left accordingly.
The Watcher picked up the spoon where it rested to the right of her place setting, examined it critically. One could never tell whether or not the flatware would be completely clean. She had a very slight knot of tension in her stomach, one she had yet to really acknowledge.
Bugger that. This was just dinner, testing the waters. She could live with the results either way.
The hostess had already seated her, and she sipped at the beverage she'd taken the liberty of ordering while she waited. She'd slept alone after the event at the Skylark because she'd sent Nathan home after a fairly intense make-out session on her couch. He'd grumbled, but he'd left accordingly.
The Watcher picked up the spoon where it rested to the right of her place setting, examined it critically. One could never tell whether or not the flatware would be completely clean. She had a very slight knot of tension in her stomach, one she had yet to really acknowledge.
Bugger that. This was just dinner, testing the waters. She could live with the results either way.
no subject
"When I agreed to go to dinner with you, it was as a friend. I mean, you're smart, obviously, refined, worldly." He gripped the wheel. "But I'm more...well."
The writer shrugged. "I see you as a friend."
no subject
Julianna's stomach tightened with the disappointment of it, and she continued to study the backs of her hands. She let it sink in, felt it, dealt with it.
"Well," she said, lifting her gaze to look through the windshield. "I can't say I'm not disappointed. I had hoped you'd be attracted. I fancied finding out what it would be like to take you to bed."
She smiled a bit. "But. I'm not crushed. I'd rather you be honest and turn me down before I get attached than tell me a lie because you think you need to make me feel feminine. I'm too old for those sort of games."
no subject
"Anyway. Here we are."
The writer smiled awkwardly, caught his reflection in the mirror, and immediately stopped.
no subject
"Devin. Don't look like that. I"m sixty years old. I've been knocked back before. If all you want is friendship, I'm agreeable. I think you're intelligent and interesting and I'd still like to help you with research for your next book. I'm not the type to push."
She would enjoy the rest of this evening as the beginning of a budding friendship, and if he happened to kiss her on the cheek at the end of it as a companionable gesture, she would accept it for what it was, savor it while it lasted, then find a way to turn off her attraction. If she didn't turn it off, they couldn't be friends because she'd make him uncomfortable. This was where compartmentalization came in handy.
"Come on, let's get some real food. I'm sure this place doesn't mind if their customers occasionally raise their voices."