28. Dash
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DASH
"Start from the beginning," Dash insisted. "Leave nothing out. You showed up at Soiree and …"
The interrogation from an impatient Dash began as soon as Miranda touched back down on Texas soil. They’d spoken briefly after her meeting with Natalie, but she’d offered nothing more than “It went well, hon, but I’m dead dog tired. We’ll talk about it when I get home.”
"Is the party a go?" he asked.
"She said she'll send me the contract with all pertinent details as soon as she can. She never suspected a thing. My performance was Oscar-worthy."
"That's because you're a bigger bullshit artist than most," Cecil announced.
Fresh from the golf course, Cecil shuffled into the living room in soccer slides that highlighted an epic sock tan line.
His feet hadn’t seen the sun since the Carter administration.
Cecil shook Dash’s hand before he parked himself on the arm of his wife’s chair.
He leaned down and kissed Miranda, who complained of his salty taste and rank scent of sweat and cigar smoke.
Dash watched Cecil’s eyes as Miranda caught him up on their plans.
To say he was still smitten with his wife would be an understatement.
At one point, the old man whispered something in her ear.
Something that leaned naughty, based on the way she gasped and swatted his shoulder with force. Dash felt a pinch in his heart.
These two, almost calling it quits? No way. I’ve never known a stronger couple.
This is what I want—a Cecil and Miranda kind of love.
Miranda wrapped up her tale and waited for Cecil’s reply. Dash took another pull on his beer, silently preparing himself for any number of reactions.
"I don't understand why a grown ass man and a wrinkled old biddy are expending this much time and energy for some overblown romantic gesture," Cecil said.
"You're right, darlin’. Dash, take a club to the poor woman's head and drag her back to your cave." Miranda shot her husband a look.
"Cecil, how old am I?" Dash asked.
The old man thought for a moment. "Thirty-nine and holdin’ as of your last birthday," he joked.
"How many times have I been married? Or engaged? How many times have you known me to go all out for a woman by surprising her with a night the likes of which she’s not expecting?"
"You want me to stop busting your balls; is that what you’re saying?" Cecil grinned.
"Precisely." Dash gave a firm nod.
"Alright, alright. I'll leave you two to your plotting, but I don't have a good feeling about it. Remember what happened the last time you bet against me, Dash. Let the record show that I was against this from the start. I’m gonna go shower, then I’m sliding into the percales to catch up on The Young and the Restless episodes I’ve DVR’d because there's entirely too much drama in here for me. "
Cecil kissed the top of his wife’s head, then left them alone.
Miranda popped the tops on two more beers, then settled back into her favorite chair.
Ace and Flash bounded into the room, each with a worn-out tennis ball in their chops.
Dash played a gentle game of indoor fetch with each dog.
Miranda scolded all three with every scratch of canine nails on her freshly polished wood floors.
After a few minutes, the dogs grew bored and plopped down at his feet, thumping their tails in a syncopated rhythm. Dash rubbed Ace’s belly with the tip of his boot, then turned his face up to Miranda. "Maybe Cecil's right. Maybe surprising her with a big event is a bad idea."
"As much as I hate to admit it, I think he is. Maybe surprise her with a small event. Something quiet and intimate—just the two of you—where you can talk and really get to know each other. Keep in mind it wasn't until recently you learned each other's real names."
Dash focused on the label of his bottle, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. "Can I ask you a serious question?"
"Always.”
"Do you ever get tired of being right?"
She grinned. "Hasn't happened yet, but they say there's a first time for everything."
Dash raised his bottle and smiled in agreement.
Listen to Miranda. She’s never steered you wrong before.
Quiet and intimate. Just like your night back in London.