Page 75 of Your Play to Call

“It really isn’t a problem,” Willow chimes in. “Let me know if my security team gets to be annoying. Seth is awfully stubborn.”

“Follow me and let’s get you to your table.”

The restaurant insisted on a bottle of wine for the table. I don’t typically drink during the season, peak muscle recovery and all that, but red wine sounds like a necessity at this point.

“We’ll take your recommendation for a Cabernet Sauvignon,” I say, knowing this is also one of Lo’s favorite wine. “Two glasses.”

“Oooh, what’s the special occasion Mr. Owens,” she jokes.

“Dinner with you is always a special occasion.” I reach over and hold her hands on top of the table.

I used to see people do this and I’d make so much fun of them. Like, is it necessary, the touching in public? Now, I get it. The want to touch someone, constantly. Be as close as possible.

“Tell me about your meeting with the label. What’s the latest?”

“Latest is they want me to finish at least three more songs by Wednesday. That way, we can start recording in the fancy studio. They’re also trying to get me to sign a new contract.” She rubs the top of my knuckles with her thumbs.

“Trying?”

“As long as they do what they promised, I’m happy to sign an extension for a few more years, but there’s a few things I need to be sure of. Like the tour dates, cities, venues. Ticket prices. Basically, the things they pushed on me before letting me take this album in a different direction.”

“That’s smart. Are you excited to start planning a tour?” I feel like if I was an artist, this would be one of my favorite parts.

“I am. Mostly because it’s going to be so different.” She beams as she talks about her new album. It’s contagious.

We’re into our secondbottle of wine and waiting for dessert. The wine is giving us a pleasantly heavy buzz. Willow’s cheeks are flushed from the wine and my own hurt from smiling. Tonight was just what I needed.

There were even a few of her fans that came up before any food was at our table. If there’s something I love, it’s watching this woman interact with people who adore her as an artist. She’s always so kind and willing to sign anything, take photos. They’re all respectful and it’s fucking amazing to see.

I pour more wine in our glasses.

“I have a question for you,” she giggles with her pink cheeks. “Do you hate when people scream ‘Don’t Tripp’ when you have the ball?’”

“No, I don’t hate it. I’ve heard it ever since I was in high school. Opposing teams used to make shirts and wear them to my high school games. I mean, it’s a great pun.”

She is cracking up which makes me do the same.

And then Willow’s face shifts. She sits straight up, scrunching her forehead and squinting her eyes before they’re as big as the plates waiting for our dessert.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

She sighs in annoyance. And before I can try to see what she’s looking at; someone stops at our table.

“Dexter, what are you doing here?” she asks through gritted teeth.

Chapter 40

Willow

Dexter.

Is standing at our table.

I thought my brain was playing tricks, or I had too much wine, because there’s no way he could be here, right?

Tripp looks from me to him and back to me.

“Hate to barge in like this, but can we talk?” Dexter asks, more confident than he should be allowed.