Larry was just elaborating on the no doubt fascinating differences between Colombian and Canadian matchbook designs when my cell phone rang. Being one of those people who always frown on phones going off in restaurants, I was a bit embarrassed that I hadn't turned it off. On the other hand, I was grateful for the interruption of my date's eternal monologue. I smiled at Larry, lifted a finger and said sweetly, "Excuse me real quick." I checked the display, but the caller ID was blocked. No matter, I said to myself, anything's better than listening to Larry, and I answered the call.

"Hi sweetheart," Carl's deep voice boomed into my ear, "you having a good time, seeing other people?" There was something in his voice that suggested a smirk.

"Oh yes, Mr. Hardiman, surely." I pretended to speak with my boss.

"Don't worry," Carl said in reply, "I know the fix you're in. If you unobtrusively turn your pretty head about 120 degrees, you'll see me sitting at the bar. That guy's driving you crazy, right?"

That was just like him! He could tell from a distance of twenty feet that I was bored stiff. I was surprised that I hadn't seen him come in, but then the entrance was in my back, and I had been lost in daydreams.

"That's right, Mr. Hardiman.

"How about this: You tell your bore that there's some emergency at work and that you have to leave immediately. I'll have my car at the curb in a minute, and we can go wherever you want."

"Uh-huh. Right. Oh really? Ah well -- I'll be right there."

I flashed Larry an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Larry, to ruin such a perfectly wonderful evening, but there's an emergency at work, and I'm needed immediately. Please excuse me, I really must go."

I put thirty dollars on the table, which was probably more than my share, but all I cared about was getting away. Larry looked at me, flabbergasted. "I thought Debbie said you worked in fashion -- how can there be an emergency?"

"It's a project we do for the Department of Defense," I fibbed, rather transparently, and was out the door.

Carl was waiting outside in his black pick-up truck. I literally jumped into the passenger seat, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "Take me away from here, please."

He grinned and pulled out. For a few minutes we drove in silence. Then I said: "Carl, are you seeing other women?"

"No. Are you seeing other men?"

"Not after tonight." I sighed.

He stopped the car in front of the bar where we'd first met.

"Would you like to talk?" he asked, putting his hand on mine.

I shook my head. "No, Carl. I just want you to hold me real tight, and never let go."