“Professor Schwartz?  Professor Schwartz,” the student interrupted again, launching into her topic.  “I’m a junior in Art and I’m working on an Art History project that I’d love to talk with you about.”  The driven student cared not one whit whether Ashton was preoccupied.  He glared at the student who waned under such an expressive, professorial non-verbal reprimand.

“Okay.”  He looked at Bette.  “Are you free tomorrow night?  Some of the art faculty and grad students are taking me to dinner.  Be my date?”

Alice’s head whipped from Ashton to Bette at this turn of events.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  Maybe we should meet for lunch or something. You probably like to have dinner with your…your friend.”

“No, it’s not that.  I don’t know if it’s appropriate, Ash.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still being careful with me nearly 20 years later.  We got along fine when I ran in to you that one time.”

“Well, th – that was brief and the circumstances…”  Bette shrugged.  “If you’re comfortable with us going out.”

“Oh, please, Bette.  You know, I dated after you broke up with me.  That sort of explains my two ex-wives. Life goes on.  I even ran into… that friend of yours from then.  I didn’t try to kill her.  She lives to see another day.  I’m a calmer person these days,” he said to her.  “That temper I was so famous for?  Meditation knocked that right out.  That’s right, I meditate—so LA, right?”  He glanced at Alice before turning back to Bette and taking her hand again.  “My date?  Dinner with me and twelve other people tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

“We’re meeting at 7:30 at Bombay Café on Pico.  Do you know it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good.  We’ll ditch dinner as early as possible and spend some time catching up. You promise you’ll be there?”

“Promise.  See you tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but Ash held onto her hand and pulled her to him again.  “It is so good to see you,” he said before making a dash down the stairs to meet with faculty.

 “Who is he?”  Alice demanded before Ashton had reached the bottom step.