(this story was written over about 4 days on and off, and has yet to be edited properly. I look forward to your feedback as I'd like to go a little further with this pairing, but not sure if I have the balance right. enjoy. I hope)
Sitting in the restaurant, Marisa sipped from a glass of iced water and flicked a glance at the clock projected on the back wall. She has been waiting for half an hour already, and it would appear as if her boyfriend had yet again stood her up. It wasn't as if this was unexpected, or even a mild surprise. The prick was well practised in this particular instance.
Sighing softly, she took her mobile from her handbag and dialled. Idly rattling her painted nails on the table top, she sat back and listened to the ring tone dial through to the voice message.
"Hi Matt. It's Marisa. I'm sat in the restaurant and you are late, yet again. Thought you'd like to know you are dumped. Ciao," she added sarcastically, emulating his favourite saying.
Turning off her phone, she laid the purse on the chair beside her and waved to the waiter. He came over, his pad open ready for her order. Choosing something decadent from the menu, she sat back and looked around the restaurant. It wasn't particularly busy, but she noted one or two quickly averted gazes from the neighbouring table. So they'd heard. Big deal.
Settling back in the chair, she idly played with the knife, spinning it on the highly polished glass surface as she waited for her food to be delivered from the kitchen. Looking around once more, she caught the gaze of a man at a small table at the rear of the room, his dark eyes holding hers without any embarrassment. When he knew he had he attention he issued a small smile and an eye roll as he looked pointedly at his watch. A fellow stood-up-ee, apparently.
Pausing for a second, Marisa decided company was preferable tonight. Waving her hand to the empty chair opposite she smiled a friendly invitation. He raised his eyebrows at her; she nodded again, so he vacated his table and joined her.
Pulling up the chair, he draped his jacket over the seat where her purse lay and rested his arms on the table. Stretching out a hand he shook hers; warm palms touching softly.
"I'm Ross," he said softly, his voice deep and warm.
"Marisa," she replied. Her stomach flipped at his voice, a soft burr of a scots accent curling his words. She'd always liked the soft lowlands accent.
"Well Marisa, it appears as though we've both been left high and dry this evening," he commented as he caught a waiters eye to let him know he had moved tables. "Your husband?"
"Ex-boyfriend," she corrected as she sipped the water. She took the opportunity to give Ross a head to toe look. He had to be a good 20 years older than her at the very least, so that put him early 50's. He looked in good shape, his arms obviously still holding muscle tone under his shirt, and no sign yet of middle aged spread. His face was softly lined with laughter around the eyes, nose and mouth, but other than that it showed little strain of time passed. And bright green eyes glittered at her as he sat passively under her scrutiny.
"Seen everything?" he asked with a quirk of the mouth, amused by her forthright assessment.
"Yes thanks," she said with a grin. "Not bad at all."
"Why thank you ma'am," he laughed. "My turn now." Marisa sat relaxed in her chair as he studied her closely from the top of her head down. His gaze flittered across her face, lingering a second on her mouth before it moved down, raking across her breasts pushed high in the bra and down to where he could glimpse the curve of her knee as she sat with her legs crossed to the side. "Impressive," he finally said, his accent rolling the word out.
She blushed a little, but was saved by the arrival of the waiter with their respective meals. Thanking him as he set the plates down, Marisa drew up her chair properly and laid her napkin over her lap. As she settled, her knee brushed his under the table. Ross looked up with a slight quizzical frown as she gasped softly at the contact. She hadn't meant to gasp, but she had received a little static charge from him as they touched. It hadn't been unpleasant, in fact it was the reverse, but it had taken her by surprise.
Concentrating on her food, Marisa glanced up to study her dinner companion as he seemed to share his attention between eating and scanning the surrounding diners. She was surprised to find she found him rather attractive, never having been one for older men. Her friends had laughing referred to her recently as a cougar, as Matt had been 5 years her junior. Admittedly she'd been using him for sex and little else, but cougar was a bit harsh. He was her first younger man.
She'd almost always gone for a man who was a couple of years older than herself. But looking at Ross she was strongly attracted to those glittering green eyes and the way the skin crinkled at the corner when he smiled. It also helped he seemed to have an athletic build under that sharp white shirt.
Ross turned his head back and looked at her as she appraised him again. He raised an eyebrow as he reached for a glass of wine.
"You like what you see?" he asked as he pushed aside his plate and leaned back to watch her.
Marisa shrugged as she finished the last morsel and pushed her plate to join his. "I've seen worse," she said casually.
Ross snorted as he thanked the waiter who came to clear the table. "I usually get a better response than that," he admitted ruefully.
"Oh?" Marisa emulated his raised eyebrows as she sipped at her water. "You get lots of offers then?"
"Usually off money grabbers," he laughed. "Which I refuse, naturally. I tend to prefer my women with a brain not just a bust."
"Glad to hear it." Nodding to the waiter who offered the dessert menu, she flipped it open and scanned down the list. Normally dessert was not part of her meals as it did not agree with her hips, but tonight she was feeling decadent in a way that was not usual. Choosing a chocolate fudge cake, she offered Ross the menu. He waved it away and asked for coffee instead.
"Should I feel guilty that I am eating cake and you are not?" Marisa asked a teasing hint in her voice.
Ross chuckled as he accepted the pot of coffee and a small side plate with mints on it. "Not at all lass," he purred. "But I'm borderline diabetic, and the doctor says I'm to stay away from the sweets for a while until it's under control again."
"Harsh," she sympathised. Smiling happily as the plate was set before her; she savoured the scent of warm chocolate and iced vanilla. Picking up the spoon, she paused and offered him a taste.
