Chapter Seven

They were shown to a semi-secluded booth. The chairs were set angled so they could watch the view, rather than directly at one another. It was somehow more intimate that way.

"This is for you." Jonathan handed her the rose she hadn't noticed him carrying. She was usually so observant, but something about this man had her blindsided. She was rushing to keep up with him, with herself, with the way they were careening towards something she hadn't known could exist.

"It's lovely." And it was, a perfect match to the roses he'd sent her. "Another of Max's?"

"He wanted me to tell you he was sorry again. He can be a wiseass sometimes, but he's a good man. The real deal."

"He sounds like a sweetheart." The velvet soft petals brushed her nose and the scent was heavenly. Deeply floral with a hint of citrus. These were the roses that could only grow in the heart of Southern California. Lush and vivid with blooms nearly the size of your hand. These weren't hothouse flowers, but real and honest garden gems tended with loving care.

"Is now the time I tell you I've done some digging on you?"

Jonathan huffed a laugh. "Is now the time to tell you I've done the same?"

Jennifer waved him off. "And in all that digging - something at which I excel - I found very little about Max. About where you met, when you met. Any of that."

She could almost see the walls physically rise behind his eyes, and his wide shoulders stiffened.

"That tells me he means a great deal to you, that you would protect him like that." She tucked the flower between the salt and pepper shakes, with the gorgeous bloom facing the glass and the setting sun. "I hope one day you'll tell me about him." One day, she hoped, he would trust her with that.

Jonathan nodded and then looked out over the sprawl of Los Angeles spread out beneath them. The sun peeked in and out between the buildings as they slowly turned and the sky went a deeper and more vivid pink. LA smog was what it was, but it produced unbeatable sunsets.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they watched the world, the city's bustle muted behind the glass, tick by. A helicopter flew in the distance, bobbing between high rises before landing on a helipad. The 110 freeway chugged along below them, a bottleneck of thousands commuting home.

They had yet to open their menus, but Jennifer wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. And she was grateful that Jonathan didn't seem to need to fill the air between them with mindless chatter. Finally he cleared his throat.

"You know, I do wish we would have met in London. I feel like I've missed out on knowing you." As lines went, it wasn't half bad. She had little doubt that, had they crossed paths in London, she would have been able to charm him. Or at the very least, captured his attention. There was that odd sensation, too, that they had skipped over something monumental. That they'd missed something important, and it wasn't just the story of a lifetime.

"Does that mean you would have let me interview you?" Jennifer fidgeted with the edge of the bound menu but didn't open it, needing something to occupy her hands and avoid Jonathan's very intense gaze.

"No." It took her a second to realize what he said, so sure of how this conversation would go. True or not, no men who hoped to sleep with her would have said no. It wasn't the answer she needed to hear, but the expectation had her momentarily fired up. Once that flare subsided, she felt her stomach quiver anxiously. Once again, he had disarmed her with a simple word. With the respect he showed her by being honest. "There was too much riding on it. Too many jobs and lives. A story wasn't worth the risk. Are you saying you wouldn't have spent time with me if there wasn't a headline in it for you?"

"Of course I'm not saying that." She tried never to use people, no matter who they were. She might have spent time with him hoping he might change his mind, but if she went out with someone it was because she wanted to. Not because there might be something in it for her. "But people tell each other things. Pillow talk. Would you have taken the risk that I wouldn't write the story anyway?"

He considered her for a long time, searching her face with a seriousness she had yet to see in him.

"I don't think you're capable of that." He finally said, reaching out to place a finger on her wrist. "Am I wrong?"

Jennifer's pulse jumped. He was watching her with such intensity, such honest openness. She'd never been a cutthroat journalist; wasn't built in a way that allowed her to betray the confidences of the people she interviewed. How did he know that? How did he see her so clearly when nobody else in the whole wide world could?

"You're not wrong." She admitted. Her attraction to him was edging into dangerously deeper territory, which was ridiculous. They hardly knew each other and spent less than 30 minutes in each other's company. And yet she was drawn to him, drawn in by him. Whatever she expected of the man across from her, he consistently offered the opposite. He was, simply put, unlike anyone she had ever known.

They ordered, and Jonathan had the server bring out the wine. He'd pulled from his own personal collection. The 76 Napa Cabernet was one of only 4 bottles he owned and he admitted to himself that it was a little showy to produce it on their first date. But he found himself wanting to impress this woman and besides. The year might have held a special significance for them, in another world.

He was relieved that she ordered a steak. He'd also brought along a perfectly respectable bottle of white, but only as a last choice backup.

One taste of the vivid red wine had Jennifer humming deep in her throat. It was an erotic sound Jonathan would never, ever tire of.

"This is the 76." She swirled the glass and sniffed.

"I didn't realize you were a sommelier, too." She was wildly impressive. Everything about her was just…impressive. So much so that a diamond in the rough from the mean streets of San Francisco might have found her intimidating…if he wasn't so god damn turned on by her.

"I'm not." She laughed. "It's just that my father was a bit of a wine snob. I learned early and often what was what in the vineyards. Matter of fact, Hart Cabri was one he enjoyed a great deal. And there is no greater compliment from my father."

"I read that he passed a few years ago. I'm sorry." And he was. He also knew she'd lost her mother at a young age. He didn't know what it was like to have parents, but he could imagine the loss. He could imagine it so well, now that Max was getting up there in years. He had no idea what he'd do with himself when Max left him. Her heart must have been broken. Still was, if the way her eyes welled was any indication.

But she didn't cry. She stared at the horizon until she had herself under control and turned to gaze at him. There was sorrow there, but more than that, there was regret.

"Pa and I didn't have a great relationship for most of my life. He was busy. I was busy. We connected on long distance calls. I was always supposed to go back to Maryland and he was supposed to connect with me in Paris. But we never really made the time." She took another sip of wine, as if to fortify herself. "We should have made time."

It was what Max was always telling him, wasn't it? Jonathan always joked that he'd rest (or fall in love, or go on vacation, or…) when he was dead. But that wasn't quite so funny these days.

"Time is the one thing ain't ever getting back, kid." Jonathan said, mimicking Max's gruff tone and Brooklyn accent. "We make it now, or we lose it for good."

Jennifer smiled that dazzling smile. "You're a wise man, Max."

"The wisest," Jonathan agreed.

The waiter brought their salads and topped off their wine, and as the meal continued Jonathan relaxed even more.

He'd spend less than an hour in the presence of this woman and he would be damned if he wasn't falling head over heels in love with her.

A/N -1) i introduced that dumb rose in the last chapter and then forgot about it, so it's now back and ready to rumble. 2) California's roses are the best roses and you can fight me on that. 3) i guess i'm just systematically offing jennifer's tiny family. no ragrets. 4) me, trying to hold these two back into a nicely paced little story about falling in love later in life. them, dragging me like a team of wild horses neighing YOLO.