She came while the waiter was setting the drink on Houston's table. She stepped in through the door, her unmistakable hair glowing a rich red in the illumination of the pseudo-candlelight.
She didn't bother to look around; she knew he would be there.
After a single glance, Houston averted his eyes from her and looked back at his drink.
And in that same instant, their minds touched.
Dave, darling! I knew you'd be early!
Dorrine!
And then their minds meshed for an instant.
I—(we)—you—LOVE—you—(each other)—me!—us!
Houston looked complacently at his drink while the headwaiter led Dorrine to a table on the far side of the room. She sat down gracefully, smiled at the waiter, and ordered a cocktail. Then she took a magazine from her handbag and began—presumably—to read.