Chapter Text
She never expected to be friends with her husband's high school karate rival.
(She never expected to say the phrase husbands high school karate rival this many decades after high school either, yet here she was.)
But it was easy, the friendship. They didn't have much in common except Daniel and Robby, but they clicked in a way that she used to with her college friends before life and families drew them apart.
(They had the same sense of humor, was the thing: part deadpan, part dark, part asshole.)
Things between them were shaky at first; when he would come around and ask after his son- never asking to see him, just wanting updates on his life, his grades, his training.
She always obliged. Couldn’t imagine needing to ask virtual strangers to tell her about Sam or Anthony. Really, this was the very least she could do. He was trying. That’s all she cared about.
It got to the point where he would show up, either at the house or the dealership, every day.
(She never figured out how he knew which one she was at on my given day.)
And each day he appeared more and more sober.
(And each day he appeared more and more desperate to know any minor detail she could give him.)
Right around the two week mark of him coming by the Woodland Hills dealership she’d been training a new GM at, she started to notice whispering among the staff. She rolled her eyes at the idle gossip but gave Johnny her phone number so he wouldn’t have to make the trip in person.
About a week after that, it started to feel like he was her ex husband and she had custody of their son. Which it sort of was, in the grand scheme of things. Minus the personal history.
(Her actual husband had that in spades, though. She was more personal history-adjacent.)
But it worked for them. She gave him Robby updates, and he started randomly texting her about the kids at his dojo; how proud he was of Aisha breaking her first board, Miguel working with the little ones on weekends, how he forgot how much more excitable little kids were: “They wore me out in half the time the older kids do. I think im getting old.”
(She told him he wasn’t getting old, the kids are just absorbing all the energy in the room.)
She started to reciprocate in kind. She’d send him customer horror stories, or random little bits of the comedy of errors running a business can be, how little things are easy to slip between the cracks: “I forgot to put coffee on the orders list for Sherman Oaks and half the sales team are walking around like zombies today because of it. Do you think UberEats will deliver Starbucks by the gallon?”
(He asked her what the fuck was an UberEats. She ordered him lunch instead of explaining.)
But between all of that, she still shared updates on Robby.
He’s failing math, she sent one Friday evening after Robby brought home a math test with a D- on it. It was accompanied by a picture of him with pizza sauce all down his front, head tipped back and laughing.
He gets that from me, was all he sent back. She wasn’t sure if he meant the math or the lack of kitchen skills.
After dinner, Amanda curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and tried to think of how to help his-her-their son.
We need a game plan. Lunch tomorrow to figure it out?
She doesn’t question why she sent that; some things were better worked out in person.
His response came an hour later, right around the time she was deciding to just tell him never mind and text him the math report and her ideas on how to help.
Ya sure. That coffee place across from the dojo, got the little kids tomorrow at 130.
-
It felt weird, sliding onto a stool with patches, in a diner in Reseda, while meeting a man who wasn’t her husband, and who her husband wasn’t aware she was even meeting.
She was in her Saturday errand attire: yoga pants and a long shirt, sneakers and hair braided away from her face. After lunch she needed to run to Costco and that was an adventure all on it’s own.
The door jingled and she looked up from her grocery list.
Golden blond hair.
That was the first thing she noticed about Johnny the first time they met, and that was the first thing she noticed as he walked through the door. Idly she wondered if it was as soft as it looked. She pushed the thought away and waved. He was in loose pants and faded Van Halen t-shirt.
The smile he sent her way had her breath catching and she inwardly frowned. Daniel was supposed to be the one who was hung on this man, not her.
He looked good though, she admitted to herself, lighter. Better than the last time she saw him, nearly three weeks ago now. Like a weight was being eased off his shoulders.
“Amanda, hey. You been waiting long? Had some kid show up early,” he said. “His mom kept talking at me.” He rolled his eyes.
She laughed at the look on his face. “I’m pretty sure she was flirting with you, Johnny.”
“Yeah, that’s what Miguel said too. I just told her I had a hot date and left her there. Let Miguel deal with it. What do you want?”
“I invited you to this, I really should-”
“It’s not a big deal, just tell me what you want.”
If he were Daniel, her stare at being cut off would have had him backing down. A small thrill raced down her spine when he just held her eyes. Johnny wouldn’t back down to her; she knew that as surely as she knew his eyes were blue.
“Chicken wrap, large iced coffee, sweet.”
He nodded and smirked at her. Good girl. She could hear it in that smirk, clear as day. It made something pool in her belly, hot and dangerous.
She waited until he was up at the counter before she took a deep breath and shoved everything else aside. They were friends. She was here for Robby. At least one person in her marriage needed to keep a level head where this man was concerned.
She tried not to notice how his ass looked in his pants.
-
After that Saturday, lunches became a regular occurrence. Sometimes two or three times a week, whenever she had time, but Saturdays before his afternoon class always found them at the little cafe, in at the table she privately considered theirs.
They didn’t always talk about Robby.
Sometimes they talked about Daniel.
(By the end of their third lunch, she was nearly one-hundred percent certain Johnny was as hung up on Daniel as her husband was on his high school karate rival. Amanda filed that away to think about later. The possibilities of it were bound to keep her up at night.)
Daniel was busy with his dojo and, according to Johnny, making the man's life a living hell at every opportunity. He never seemed to realize where or with whom his wife took her lunches when they weren't with him. And she's pretty sure no one else would have noticed anything either, if she hadn't let time get away from her and found the blond man leaning against her office doorway in Encino one random Thursday afternoon.
-
“Your weasley little sales guy is giving me the evil eye,” Johnny said. Amanda startled, pen skidding off the personnel forms she was filling out.
“Johnny! What-shit. I missed lunch, didn’t I?” She huffed hair away from her face and checked her phone. 1:13 and 3 texts from Johnny. She cringed. She was supposed to meet him at the cafe at noon. “Sorry. You should have called.”
Her neck had a crick from sitting hunched over her desk since 9 that morning. She hated paperwork. Hated that termination and new hire papers needed to be filled out by hand. In triplicate.
She looked up at him when he didn’t respond and found him staring at her, a slight smirk on his face.
(She still hadn’t decided what to do about the obviously love-hate relationship Daniel and Johnny had. Part of her wanted to just ignore it all, enjoy her new friendship. A bigger part of her wanted to tip the scales and watch the fireworks.)
“I hate this new fucking phone. I only just figured out where the texting is. Come on, up. I’m hungry.” He leaned his head back, looking out toward the showroom. “Weasel guy is starting to grow balls and head this way.”
“His name is Anoush.” She said. Johnny mouths “Anoush” with a frown.
“Poor guy.”
She looked at the paperwork on her desk, black line across one form she’ll have to start over.
But she got up and followed him anyway.
She slipped her arm in his and gave Anoush a small wave as they passed, telling him she was taking a late lunch.
(The rumors of her having an affair with Johnny Lawrence started that day, mingling with the rumors of her husband having the same affair.)