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Dane(2)

By:Leddy Harper


     



 

She glanced down again and fought against the unwavering grin. But it  didn't last long before she met my gaze once more. "I don't have the  job … yet. I actually interview for it tomorrow morning."

I had so many questions bouncing around in my mind I didn't know which  one to start with. "So you're only visiting here until you get the job?"

"Nope. I moved here."

"Without getting a job first … " It wasn't a question, more of an  open-ended statement, waiting for her to finish with the details. It  didn't make any sense to me why someone would move thousands of miles  away without any guarantee of income.

"It's my dream job. So if I don't get it, I'll simply keep trying."

Determination. I loved that in a person. I didn't come across too many  with that quality anymore. Most assumed they were entitled; they went to  school, earned a degree or diploma, and expected to be handed a job.  They also expected a paycheck simply because they showed up to work.  Life didn't work that way.

"Well, you should probably limit those," I said, pointing to the drink  in her hand. "You wouldn't want to be unprepared for your big  interview."

She lifted the glass and smiled. "It's vodka-water. The water keeps me hydrated while the vodka settles my nerves."

"What do you have to be nervous about?"

"Oh, gee … I don't know, Dane. I was supposed to be meeting a stranger,  some guy who kept me waiting for a very long time-who probably had no  intention of showing up. To top it all off, I have an interview tomorrow  for my dream job. And if I blow it, I'll have to flip burgers at a  fast-food place until I can try again." The lines next to her eyes  deepened with her soft, easy grin.

"That guy is clearly a moron, but it worked out in your favor." I wagged  my brows at her. "I do a lot of interviews. Want my advice?"

Her shoulders lifted eagerly as she said, "Sure."

"First, don't be nervous. You went to a great school, got a degree, and  you're more determined than half the people I work with. You'll do fine.  Second, speak with confidence. It doesn't matter if you don't know the  answer-never let them know that. And last … you are the only person for  the job. They could have a hundred applicants, but when you leave the  room, the only person they need to remember is you. As far as they're  concerned, you are the person for the job."

She nodded and toyed with her bottom lip between her teeth, taking in  every word. "Okay. I think I can do that-no. I can … I know I can do  that."

"See? Already a quick learner." I winked at her and watched as her  cheeks darkened yet again. "Now, you also have to dress the part. This  is one of the rules I probably hate the most. I personally like  individuality, but not everyone does."

She blinked and nodded, waiting for me to continue.

I pointed to the vibrant flowers on her arm. "Your half-sleeve. As hot  as it is, maybe wear a sweater. You never know, they may not care about  it, but in the event they're conservative, it's always better to be safe  than sorry."

"Yeah, I planned to cover it up."

"The diamond in your nose is probably okay; it's tiny enough. But the  Monroe"-I pointed to the silver ball in her smile line-"could be frowned  upon. And please, Eden … " I reached across the table and covered her  hand with mine, not thinking twice about it until the warmth of her skin  met mine. My chest grew tight, my stomach coiled, and heat from an  invisible fire licked up the sides of my neck. I snatched my hand away,  realizing how inappropriate it all was. "Don't be offended by my  suggestions. If you worked for me, I'd tell you to keep them all in.  They're incredibly sexy on you."

She slipped her hand off the table into the safety of her lap and tucked  her chin, ogling the wooden table top between us. Her shoulders rose  and fell with each breath. If I were a betting man, I'd say she was in  the midst of calming herself.

Because I was in the midst of doing the very same thing.

"Why do you do that?" My voice was low, barely a whisper, but it was enough to catch her attention.

Her almond-shaped eyes met mine, and I could literally feel her stare  through my entire body. It touched everything. Like it physically  reached inside me and caressed every part of my being. My heart raced  and my throat closed. All from one stare.

"Why do you look away like that? Like you're insecure." My God, this  woman had nothing to be insecure about. I had no right to take notice,  but it was impossible not to.         

     



 

"I don't know … I guess I get shy. Sometimes I don't know how to react to  compliments. I don't know what to say to someone who comments about my  appearance. It's not insecurity; it's more like feeling nervous, I  guess."

"Well, you shouldn't be shy or nervous. It's just a compliment. I'm sure  you get them a lot. You should be used to them by now, and if not, then  you've been around the wrong people." I hadn't meant for my words to  come across as flirtatious, but they did so anyhow.

"Thank you." Her gaze never left mine as her eyes sparked-no,  flared-widening slightly. The taut corners of her mouth twitched and the  light in her eyes brightened, but it wasn't until the tension in my  expression loosened, my own lips turning up, that I saw hers do the  same. I couldn't remember the last time I had the ability to trigger  someone else's happiness.

"That's better." I couldn't take my eyes off hers, no matter how hard I  tried. I'm sure it made her uncomfortable, but she never turned away,  either.

She twirled her straw around in her cup, shifting around the ice at the  bottom. "Well, it's getting late and I'm finished with my drink. Do you  have any more advice before I leave?"

The notion of her leaving weighed heavily around me like a dense fog of  despair. I didn't like it. I shouldn't have wanted her to stay, but  thinking of her walking away left me teetering on the cusp of misery. As  if my happiness had been tethered to her. I didn't want her to go. I  longed to bathe in her presence for a little while longer. But I knew  she couldn't stay. And I shouldn't want her to stay.

"Just be you," was all I had to offer her.

"Thank you, Dane. I really enjoyed your company tonight."

"Anytime, Eden." I wanted to tell her how much I'd enjoyed hers as well,  but I didn't. The words wouldn't leave my tongue. I knew they'd sound  desperate and pathetic, giving away the sorrow deeply embedded within  me. She'd been so easy to talk to, and I only wanted to live in that  moment with her for a little while longer.

To forget for a little bit more.

As she walked away, leaving me alone at the table, I knew I'd be left  thinking about her for days. Maybe not her, but the feelings she'd  brought to the surface. She'd offered me a sense of normalcy for the  first time in eons. And she'd made me smile. I'd been convinced I no  longer had the ability to do anything other than scowl. But for thirty  minutes, I was able to remember how it felt to enjoy life, to be  carefree. I was able to recognize that piece of me hadn't fully died.

I didn't want it to end, but I knew it had to.

I sat on the stool for a little bit longer until I knew I had to leave. I  had to go home. I didn't want to, but I had no other choice. At least I  knew there was hope for me yet. I wasn't sentenced to a life of  sadness, surrounded by tears and heartache. Enjoying Eden's company may  have been wrong, but at least it proved to me there was still something  worth fighting for.





2





I rushed to work, forcing myself not to look at the time. Usually, I was  the first one to walk through the main doors, but this morning, it  wouldn't surprise me if I'd been the last. I'd had one hell of a morning  so far, causing me to run behind. Exhaustion weighted my feet, but my  irritation over being late fueled my steady pace into the building.

By the time I'd made it home last night, she was hysterical. I did  everything I could to be patient, supportive, and calm her down. But  nothing seemed to work. She had no desire to talk, and she refused to  take anything. All she did was curl into a ball and cry. Finally, she  fell asleep, but it didn't come so easily for me.

I'd tossed and turned, the weight of guilt crushing me. Guilt for not  wanting to be home, for going to the bar when I knew her mood before I'd  left for work yesterday morning. However, the majority of my shame came  from not being able to be what she needed. For not being able to take  away the pain and misery she felt day in and day out.

After less than four hours of sleep, I woke with the sun, already  knowing I'd slept later than intended. I hadn't wanted to wake her-she  needed to sleep-so I quietly got ready for the office, which did nothing  but make me run even further behind.

I made it through the heavy doors, the ones with "Kauffmann Investments"  boldly etched into the glass, with enough time to catch a blur of red  hair in the lobby. Suddenly, my tardiness no longer plagued me. I  stopped in my tracks and watched the woman as she made her way through  the doors to the public relations department.