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White Lies

Part II

Cal Lightman stood and ran an appraising eye over the restaurant his precocious daughter had chosen. "Not bad," he thought. "Not bad at all and look at all the birdies." As he gave an admiring smile to an extremely attractive woman at the bar, he felt a nudge at his shoulder as Gillian leaned against him to whisper in his ear. "Should I leave now before she gets away?"

The woman who had been perusing Cal, measuring up if he was worth a move gave Gillian a slight smile and turned to see what other fish there were in the sea. The barracuda at the bar knew all too well what the hand on the shoulder was. The lean to innocently brush lips against an ear as you whisper an unconditional surrender was anything but. It screamed, "He's mine. Stay away."

Slipping her hand into Cal's Gillian smiled as they stepped closer to the maître. His chances for someone else were over. Every woman in the place was scrupulously avoiding all eye contact with Cal least they wish a catfight concerning to whom he belonged.

"I saw that Foster," he whispered as he nonchalantly scanned the room. "It doesn't take an expert in lying to know what you just did."

"And what did I do?"

"You just told this room to go fuck off, luv." He grinned, his eyes lighting as he glanced at her. "It was lovely, really it was."

With a laugh Gillian smiled and then blushed. "I'm not insecure about being here with you Cal. We have dinner all the time and by no means do I think this is an actual date. I know we are humoring Emily. It's just that I wanted to see if I still had it or if all those years with Alec had…well, you know he used to come here with his…well."

Grinning like a loon, Cal laughed. "Oh Foster my darling, you've got it. Believe me you do, you really do. Two, Lightman."

"Sir?" the maitre looked at his book.

"Lightman."

"Yes sir."

After they had been lead to their seats and had settled, Cal flipped open the menu. "What will it be Foster?"

"Are you Dr. Lightman and Dr. Foster?" asked a polite young waitress who suddenly appeared at their table.

"Yes," answered both in unison.

"I am supposed to give this to you sir." Handing over a small envelop, the waitress scampered away as Cal ripped it open and burst into laughter.

Dad I stole your credit card and told them to use it to pay for your meal. Be nice and get Gillian something nice. Okay! You can kill me later. Your wonderful, incredible, loving, daughter.

"I swear Gillian, that kid. That bloody kid."

Laughing Foster took the note and placed it in her purse. "I am keeping this for evidence at our trial. They can't convict us if it was a mercy killing."

"Yeah. Right. Dinner. Whatcha want?"

Leaning back in her chair, Gillian looked at him, "Listen, we don't have to do this. I can go or pay for my own or whatever. We don't have to stay."

"No." Cal shook his head. "No, we are eating. I'm starving."

At his elbow a waiter had appeared. "Wine. Bring a bottle and bring it quick. And…" he glanced at the menu, "and I want a steak, medium rare. It should be bloody mooing and bring her this fish thing. She likes it grilled with the sautéed spinach and mushroom and rice and she likes that blue cheese stuff on the side of her salad." He glanced at Foster, "That's right isn't it luv? You want that?"

Gillian smiled in surprise and embarrassment. "Yes, that's it exactly."

Scribbling in his notepad the waiter turned to leave as Cal caught his arm. "What's your richest dessert? The one with the most sugar and chocolate and syrups and stuff? Whatever it is, the lady wants it."

The man glanced at Foster, taking in her figure. "If the lady wishes."

"Yeah, of courses she wishes," blurted out Cal before Gillian could comment. "Yes," agreed Foster. "I have a sweet tooth."

As the waiter wandered away, Cal slumped in his chair and looked at his partner. "It's nice to get out of the office isn't it?"

"It is. We only see each other there these days."

"Well, got to get the cash flow comin in."

Gillian grimaced. His loan was a sore subject with her. "You have Emily Cal, that's what counts."

For a second Cal studied her even though he knew she hated it. "Yeah, or at least for a couple more hours I do. Can't say what will happen when we get home."

As the waiter arrived and opened the wine for approval, the conversation between Foster and Lightman settled into friendly banter and work related issues. Another bottle later however, it had slightly changed.

"I tell you Gil, he wants her."

"Loker? I think Torres has better taste than that. I mean no offense Cal but he really needs to wash his hair. His hygiene is not the best."

"Because of his hair?"

"No, because he refuses to wear deodorant or to shave or bathe."

"I don't shave regularly. Are you saying it disturbs you?"

"No, on you it is sexy."

"Sexy? Really?"

Gillian blushed. She had not meant to say it aloud. "In a bad boy kinda way, yes."

Laughing Cal glanced around the room. "Wonder how many of these birds find me sexy."

A sharp pain rushed up his leg from his shin.

"Ow, you kicked me."

Gillian smiled.

"Wha you do that for."

"I don't like men checking out other women when they are with me."

"Oh is that right." Cal leaned on the table, dragging himself as close to Foster as he could. "Now then my darling, I have not said one word about those blokes who have been watching you, checking you out and fantasizing about removing that ever so lovely form fitting dress you are wearing. And not only have I been purposely not mentioning them, I have also not mentioned you noticing them. I have seen the little sideways glances, the appraising eye as you check out their crotch."

"Cal!" exclaimed Gillian.

Leaning back, Lightman pointed at her with assurance. "You have. You know you have. What are you sitting there thinking my darling? Boxers? Briefs? Does he measure up to looking further?"

With her face turning fire engine read, Gillian frowned. There was annoyance and anger in her eyes. "I am sitting Cal. I am…" she coughed, "eye level. It would be more conspicuous to look up. I have merely glanced at passerby's."

"The waiter. Boxer or briefs?"

"Boxers."

"Ha!" Cal leaned back in his chair in triumph. "You were looking."

Leaning her elbow on the table, Gillian wagged her finger for him to come close. "Cal, my darling, is the lady sitting behind me at the bar wearing any underwear?"

Lightman laughed. "Alright Luv. Fair is fair. You caught me."

Giving him a sad smile, Gillian picked up her purse and prepared to leave.

Holding out his arm, Cal halted her. "Wait a moment. Where you going. I just ordered another bottle."

Gillian shrugged. "I don't want to stand in your way. Take the bottle to her. Night Cal, it was fun."

Standing, she moved to go but instantly Cal was on his feet and very close to her. "No no luv, don't. You know it's a game. That's all it is. Let me pay the bill and I will take you home."

"You're drunk."

"So are you."

For a moment the two looked at each other, their eyes meeting. Suddenly, without warning, he kissed her. It wasn't a quick peck, but a smashing of the lips, flickering of the tongue which left most of the room panting as he pulled away. "Okay," said Cal quickly as he pulled out his wallet and handed the waiter who had arrived with the third bottle of wine an enormous tip. "What hotel has my darling daughter put on my card?"

"This one."

"This one?" Cal looked around. "This is a hotel?"

Gillian nodded. "We are in the exclusive restaurant. The hotel is on the other side. See look over there you can just make out a lobby."

Taking the wine in one hand, and grabbing Fosters in the other, Cal pulled her towards the lobby.