Better than you expected.

When you arrive at the restaurant Deborah Cummins is already there. She's changed into a blue dress of some silky material that ripples as she moves. She smiles as she puts a hand on your arm, her eyes warm.

"Thank you so much for coming Mr. Carter. I wouldn't have blamed you for refusing after the performance you witnessed earlier. I'm afraid my ex-husband and I bring out the worst in each other."

"I've been married and divorced too. I understand."

"Ah, I see. Our table is ready," she smiles, offering her arm for you to escort her to her seat. You pull her chair out for her and get another smile of thanks as you sit down.

"A Manhattan," she tells the waitress who takes your drink orders. She raises an eyebrow when you order mineral water, then reaches across the table to touch your hand.

"My apologies. I won't pretend I haven't heard the stories. I wasn't testing you, I forgot. Will it bother you if I drink?"

"No. It will only bother me if I drink."

"Well put. You seem to be a man who is dealing well with life."

"I do my best."

"It's all we can do. Most of don't manage even that. I won't pretend I haven't made my share of mistakes. Not least with Valerie. Her father and I allowed our spite to damage her. He more than I, but I bear responsibility too."

"And you want me to help you make amends?"

"To show me how you reached her. She's a deeply troubled child, and has been since her father and I split. His first wife, after me I mean, was only twenty two. She tired of him after a few years, but while she was in the picture Bill largely ignored Valerie. When this new bimbo entered the picture it was even worse. She's only a few years older and Valerie thinks she has to compete with her for his attention and affection. She wants Bill to be a father to her, but he really isn't cut out for the job."

"I don't know what to tell you other than what I've already said. Coach Watts and I spoke to her about responsibility and behaviour. She seems to be listening, and behaving accordingly. I hope it continues because Ms. Naylor has made it clear that she's serious about expelling her if there are further incidents."

"Perhaps she sees you and Coach Watts as the fathers she wishes she had. Instead of the ones she has."

"I'm no psychologist Mrs. Cummins. I couldn't answer that."

"Deborah please. Or Deb. But never Debbie. Debbie's are always dumb blond bitches, don't you think?"

"I haven't known enough to give an informed opinion," you answer. "Let's make it Deborah and Mason."

"How perfect!" she smiles, touching your hand again. "Now let's order dinner."

You let her pick the meals since she obviously knows the place. She orders a carafe of wine and drinks it as you eat. She chats easily, her eyes warm, and she frequently reaches out to touch your hand. She's a very attractive woman, you realise, much more intriguing than the hormonal teens that have surrounded you for the past few days. You enjoy her company, her intelligent conversation, and her mild and harmless flirting, starting to relax as she seems to have accepted your explanation of Valerie's change in behaviour.

The two of you linger through dessert, Deborah downing two liqueurs before calling for the bill. When it comes, she pays with a platinum American Express card, thanking the waitress effusively for the service.

"Could I prevail upon you to drive me home. I'm afraid I might have had a bit too much to drink."

"Certainly. My car is right outside."

"How very convenient," she smiles, taking your arm and letting you escort her to the car. When you open the door for her she slides in, pulling her dress down as it rides up her thighs, then smiling at you as you close the door.

She gives you directions to an upscale complex that bills itself as a 'resort motel', pulling up in front of a carefully kept cabin.

"This is me," she says, with a faint slur. "Thank you kind sir. Come on in and let me thank you properly." She reaches out and pulls you to her, her mouth trembling and wet and eager.