**picture: Dupont Circle, Washington DC
The host checked their reservation and led them in. A group came out, surrounding them, and a couple tried to step between Brock and Gillian. Just out of instinct, he moved closer to her and rested his hand on the small of her back, glancing over his shoulder to check Andrea was there—she was, with Connor standing behind her like a soldier.
Gillian managed not to breathe in, blush or feel a chill, as the group gave them way to follow the host. Yet she couldn't help to savor the feeling, not only of his touch, but mostly the way he stayed so close to her on their way to their table. Looked like it was going to be a gourmet night for her, no matter the courses.
Knowing Brock was an old school gentleman, she didn't even try to pull her chair, and allowed him to. Andrea and Connor took advantage of their distraction and sat down side by side, so when Brock looked up, the only available seat was by Gillian. She looked at the teens, raising slightly her eyebrows—c'mon, guys. Connor wore his most grave face while Andrea swallowed a giggle.
As soon as they ordered, Andrea told Brock that Connor had already started his courses at MIT. And before anybody noticed, it became the main subject of the dinner. Brock asked him about the curriculum, and then Connor spoke about his teachers, and the classes he'd taken, and Andrea asked more about it. By then, when Brock made one of the mandatory jokes about the crazy-scientist degree—in his most serious tone, of course—they all laughed.
Gillian didn't talk much, too busy enjoying the good time her son was having and Andrea's lovely fresh ways. But mostly Brock's unexpected charming side. He didn't try to be overly friendly with Connor, yet he helped the boy to relax and be himself. She had a really hard time, both keeping her eyes from staying on him and holding back the stupid smile that insisted to curl up her lips.
Andrea celebrated her father's ironic sense of humor and displayed her own version of it. And since it was the kind of humor Gillian and Connor liked as well, the conversation was sprinkled with sharp remarks, teases and more laughter.
Brock seldom spoke directly to her, but he wouldn't let her glass empty, and handed her anything out of her reach before she needed to ask for it. His constant mild smile, his clever way to interact with the teens, the spark in his eyes, it all kept Gillian mesmerized.
When they ordered the desserts, Andrea excused herself to go to the restroom.
She was hardly three steps away when Connor faced Brock, very serious. "Thanks for letting her come to my birthday party, sir," he said. "It really meant a lot to me."
Brock only nodded, guessing this was but a prologue.
Gillian narrowed her eyes, wondering what was her son up to.
"I've grown very fond of her, sir, and I care about her a lot. But not the way you think."
Brock frowned at such a blunt statement.
Connor shrugged. "I mean, you know she's beautiful, and so cool, and special. But I'm not into her, if you know what I mean."
Gillian flashed a little smile. Brock's frown was a proper scowl now, and Connor held his drilling eyes without a blink.
"I'm saying all of this because I'd like to stay in touch with Andrea, sir, and I don't want it to mean trouble for her."
Before Brock was able to come up with an answer, the waiter brought their desserts and Andrea came back to the table. She sat down, looked at her father and turned to Connor. "So you told him after all," she said, almost chiding him.
Connor smiled—guilty as charged.
Brock shot a questioning scowl at the girl, who faced him with her bright grin, not the least bit intimidated. "So, now that you know the rascal ain't planning to hijack your baby girl, can we do some city sighting later? You once told me the Lincoln Memorial is great at night."
He opened his mouth, trying to overcome his utter surprise. Gillian let out a muffled giggle and he turned his scowl to her. "Did you know?"
She shook her head, napkin to her mouth to suffocate her laughter.
"Gillian..."
Andrea and Connor giggled too, and Gillian saw Brock was actually struggling to stay serious.
"I didn't know. On the rascal's life, sir, I didn't," she said.
Brock's head dropped, chin to his chest, and he sighed. Then he faced the teens, thumb pointing at Gillian. "She just called me sir... here..." he said in dismay.
Andrea and Connor laughed out loud and Gillian could only laugh with them. Brock scoffed, watching them. He'd never expected to feel so fine, and it'd been a long time since he'd last had such a nice evening.