The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(53)

“I’m glad we ran into each other,” Tom said.

“Me too,” replied Nina. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“No big deal,” he said, looking down at the table. Nina noticed a tiny scar by the side of his eye and suddenly wanted to touch it. He continued, “Not everyone has as open a calendar as I do.”

Nina was interested. “Why is your time so free?”

He laughed. “Because I don’t schedule anything. I pretty much work, then take the rest of it as it comes. Not a big planner.”

“I like planning.”

“I saw that.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“Better than what?”

“Better than chaos. Better than unpredictability.”

“But doesn’t that mean you also lose out on serendipity? If everything is planned, nothing is surprising.” He regarded her thoughtfully, genuinely interested. While he waited for her answer, he found himself wondering if she was wearing lipstick, wondering what color her cheeks would turn when she was aroused, wondering why he couldn’t stop wanting to go to bed with this woman he barely knew. He wasn’t a teenager, but she made him feel that way.

Nina sighed. “I still get surprised all the time. You can make whatever plans you want, but life still happens, right?” She looked at his face, the angles and planes growing familiar, his gaze intent but his eyes so, so warm. What was he thinking? “For example, I recently discovered I had a father.” She clarified, “Or rather, I knew I must have a father, but I found out he was dead already.” That didn’t really come out right, but she didn’t think she could make it better, so she left it. Bad things sometimes happen to good sentences. What can you do?

Tom took another sip of water. “You thought maybe you were an immaculate conception?”

Nina made a face at him. “Yes. My mother told me I came out of her forehead fully formed.” Tom looked at her, his curly mouth turned up in a smile. He waited, and Nina continued. “No, I just never knew who he was. I asked, of course, when I was little, but my mom shrugged and said she didn’t know.”

“Party girl, your mom?”

“I guess. And apparently also a liar.” Nina waited while the waiter poured them both some wine and then raised her glass. “To surprises, hopefully pleasant ones.”

“Yes,” said Tom, clinking his glass against hers. “And to trying new things.”

A pause. Then Nina said, “But you do have some scheduled activities, right? The trivia team, for example.”

Tom grinned. “It’s hardly a full-time occupation. I do it mostly because Lisa needed someone who knew sports.”

Nina crowed, “I knew it! You’re a jock.”

“Nope, an armchair quarterback with a good memory.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to tell me more about the whole dad thing, or are you going to move on to something else? That’s kind of a big deal, right?”

“I guess so,” said Nina. “I’m still not really sure what to think about it. I’m not a little girl anymore, right? And it’s not like he’s even around to get to know.”

“Brothers and sisters?”

Nina nodded. “Several. And nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and great-nephews, even.”

“How is that?” Tom asked, so Nina explained. Archie and Peter had been right; it got easier.

Tom smiled. “Well, it sounds like you got at least one good brother and a fabulous nephew out of it, and that’s more than most people.”

Their food arrived, and Nina continued the conversation around a bite of cheeseburger.

“Do you have a big family?”

“Not like yours. I have a brother and sister.”

“Older or younger?”

“One of each. Older brother, younger sister. My brother’s getting married soon.”

“Are you going to be a bridesmaid?” Nina looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Will you have a pretty frock?”

“Yeah,” he said, “if they can find one to fit me. I’m not built like the other girls.” He copied her glance-through-the-eyelashes move, pulling it off surprisingly well.

“I can see that,” replied Nina, then blushed. She wasn’t anxious around Tom, which was unexpected and pleasant, but she was definitely . . . aware. It was there in the air between them, an unspoken expectation of more to come. A whole other conversation was going on, wordless but clear.

“Shall I get the check?” asked Tom, his voice quiet.

“Yes,” said Nina. She swallowed. “I should head home.”

“Still time for a chapter before bed?” He smiled.

“Maybe,” she replied.

It turned out they’d both taken ride share to get to the movies, so they started walking south toward Larchmont.

Tom took a deep breath. “So, I guess your busy schedule doesn’t allow for much dating?”

Nina took a similarly deep breath. “Not really.” She paused. “And I’m pretty happy being single, honestly. I have plenty of . . .”

“Friends?” finished Tom, and Nina nodded. “Me too. You never wanted anything more?”

Nina didn’t reply for a moment, as they crossed Santa Monica Boulevard. “I’m not against it. I’m just not looking for it. Do you know what I mean?”