Page 21 of Crossing the Line
It was the same smile that Janice used to smile at him.
Warm.
Open.
She looked good back then.
Damn, she looked good now.
He smiled, thinking about the way she leaned in to him and gave him that smile when she wanted to...
"So, can I leave you my number?"
Bixby would have died of embarrassment if August and Hank didn't start laughing like complete idiots leaving Bixby to explain. "We were just talking about a song with the title "Don't Lose My Number.""
The waitress frowned at him and then she looked at the other two for a moment before turning her gaze back to him. "Is that from the Big Band Era or something?"
Bixby's jaw almost dropped. "I'm sorry... What?"
"The Big Band era. You know the one during wartime? The second or... third World War?"
Bixby knew they were in trouble.
Hank and August had stopped laughing.
He was thinking they'd stopped breathing, too.
They were just staring up at the waitress like she'd grown a second... orthirdhead.
He didn't know when she realized that the whole mood had gone down hill, but he saw her expression change from open to hesitant.
"Uh, yeah... Sorry. I'll be back later to check on your table, 'kay?"
He nodded along with Hank. August gave her a little wave as she left.
It was Hank that spoke first, grumbling under his breath. "Third World War."
August looked like he'd been kicked in the shin. "What is this world coming to?"
"I don't know," Bixby sighed, "I was living in the Big Band Era, I think."
They looked at each other and then burst into laughter.
Hank ended the raucous mess with an exaggerated wince and a hand to his lower back. "I'm getting too old for this kind of thing."
Bixby sighed. "Not as old as me, apparently."
August opened his mouth, probably to join in on the kidding, but stopped short. "Uh... Don't look now, Bixby, but someone 'not' of our advanced age is talking to your woman."
Bixby turned to look because of course, he had to since August had told him not to.
The man standing at Janice's table was indeed talking to her.
And only her.
Narrowing his gaze at the scene before him, he watched as the man who had to be at least ten or fifteen years younger than him, gave Janice a smile that would have blinded most people.
His teeth were brilliantly white and the shirt he had on was barely more than a second skin.
