After Jill and Robbie finished dinner, Robbie ordered them cappuccino and an assortment of Italian pastries. Throughout dinner they talked about the restaurant and the places they had ate at in Los Angeles. They had both dined at the same places, and realized that one of the Christmas Parties they were both there. After that, they spoke of the actors and actresses they both knew.
The scent of garlic and tomato sauce lingered in the air. For a hotel restaurant, the food was very good. In California, she couldn’t find a decent Italian restaurant that made
The waiter placed their cappuccinos in front of them and the tray of pastries in the middle of the table. Jill reached for a sweet’n’low, pushed the whipped cream to the side and sprinkles it into her mug before stirring it with the small spoon.
“Watching your weight?”
“Not tonight, especially after seeing the pastries. I haven’t had a good cannoli since I left New York.”
Jill lifted her mug up to her lips and took a sip. She didn’t even want to tell him that the cappuccino tasted different in New York too. The water was made the difference; that she swore all these years. Nothing compared to New York water.
Robbie reached across the table and ran his finger along her top lip. He held up his finger laughing. “Looks like you left some whipped cream behind,” he said sliding his finger into his mouth.
Jill giggled. Who was this stranger she met on the plane? If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she knew him her whole entire life, yet she didn’t know a thing about him.
“A dollar for your thoughts.”
“You’re going for the big leagues. Usually it’s a penny for your thoughts.”
That small clique opened up the conversation.
“Would you like to know about the project I’m working on?”
“Yes I would, but I didn’t want to look desperate for a job.”
“Desperate? No way. I’ve seen your work on the soap. Breaking into soap writing is very hard. You usually need to know someone in the field.”
“They came to me. I was writing an ongoing story for the Staten Island Times every Thursday. One day I got a call at my desk and Mr. Cannon asked me if I would like to write for his show. I had told him I was interested, and his response was he had a one-way ticket to L.A. waiting for me at the airport. I packed a bag, and never looked back.”
“Interesting. I’d like to hear more. But first,” he stood, extending his hand. “I’d like for you to dance with me. I’m a sucker for a Frank Sinatra song.”
Jill took his hand in his and let him lead her out to the dance floor. At first they danced apart. But halfway through the song, Robbie placed his hand on her waist and brought her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he swept her across the small dance floor. At the end of the song, he hugged her and gave her a peck on her lips.
“Thank you for the dance.”
Jill wanted to reach up and touch her lips. As if on contact, his kiss rippled through her. When they sat back down, she didn’t feel any awkwardness. Instead, she wanted to know more about him, more about the job he told her about on the plane.
“I thought if you didn’t mind, I’d like to hear more about the job opportunity you told me about on the plane.”
“I hope you didn’t think I used the job as a come on. I am serious.”
Jill didn’t want to tell him those thoughts had run through her mind. She always liked to give a person the benefit of the doubt, but in the television/movie world, there was always an ulterior motive behind every move.
“Give me a second,” he said opening up his messenger bag and taking out a manuscript. “This is the pilot that I just got finished shooting.” He handed her the manuscript. “Look it over and let me know if you are interested in being a part of the writing team.”
“Either way your decision sways, I’d still like to get to know you better.”