Intent to Seduce & A Glimpse of Fire(56)
“You’re right. But I don’t think that’s enough. One complaint would only get a wrist slapping.”
“Both you and Nancy need to—”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
“Yeah, I know. It just pisses me off that you have to put up with so much crap when you do a better job than half those losers.” They’d sat under a tree and he opened his lunch pail. “Shit, peanut butter and jelly again.”
Dallas shook her head as she removed her gloves, and then brought out her cheese and crackers and fruit. “Tony, you aren’t married. You made your own lunch.”
“Yeah, I know.” He gave her that wide grin that had surely broken many hearts. “I haven’t grocery shopped in a while.”
She took off her baseball cap, tightened her ponytail, replaced the cap and then got out the hand sanitizer. “Why haven’t you gotten married?”
“I’ve been saving myself for you. Wanna cola? I have an extra one.”
“Come on. I’m serious.”
“And nosy.”
“Yeah, so,” she said, laughing as she took the cola he offered.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Hell, I’m only thirty-one. I’ve got time.”
“Here.” She gave him a hunk of her Gouda.
“What about you?” he asked, his dark eyes suddenly full of curiosity. “Every time we go for a drink after work, you turn every guy’s head in the bar. But you don’t even talk about dating anyone.”
“I keep waiting for you to ask.”
He stared, speechless.
“I’m kidding.” She winked. “You’re my only friend here. I don’t want to ruin a good thing.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.” He checked his watch and then bit into his sandwich.
She watched him chew, studying the clean lines of his jaw, the straight, almost patrician nose. His dark wavy hair was pulled back in a short ponytail. He was a really good-looking guy. The way his muscled biceps strained against his T-shirt sleeves caught the attention of nearly every woman who walked by.
But Dallas had never felt anything other than camaraderie with him. She had no idea why. Just no chemistry. No sparks like she had with Eric.
Just thinking about him made her all tingly inside.
How was she going to stand not seeing him until Wednesday night? That was almost forty-eight hours from now. Tomorrow night she had her meeting. Since she was the organizer, she damn well had better show up. Anyway, she had to get a dress for the reception on Wednesday night.
Thoughtfully she took a sip of cola. Tonight she wasn’t doing anything. Her heart started to race as she summoned her courage. What the hell? She didn’t have anything to lose. She was the mystery woman.
She checked her watch. Eight minutes left.
“Hey, Tony, I’ve got to make a phone call,” she said as she started to gather her stuff. “You want the rest of this cheese and crackers?”
“You talkin’ to me?” He grinned at his lousy imitation. “Leave everything. I’ll pick it up. Go.”
She smiled her thanks. Her cell phone already out of her pocket.
CHAPTER SIX
ERIC GOT HIMSELF A SOFT DRINK OUT of the refrigerator in the coffee room. The pastrami sandwich he’d ordered from the corner deli would be here any minute. On the few occasions he’d ordered lunch in, they’d delivered promptly.
Never in his life had he waited for a woman to call. Not even in high school when he’d had the hots for Tammy McIntosh, who’d had the best breasts east of the Mississippi and had given him his first and thankfully only hickey. Every guy in school had wanted to take her out, and he’d had the pleasure three or four times. When things had started to cool between them, he’d moved on. No waiting around by the phone for him.
But today he waited. Even skipped going out to lunch with Tom just in case Dallas called. Tom hadn’t volunteered squat about Saturday night. Which was really ticking Eric off. His so-called friend’s innocent act had gotten real old. That’s why Eric hadn’t told him about dinner last night. Screw him.
On his way down the hall back to his office, he heard the delivery kid at the reception desk. He’d already left money with the receptionist so he needed only to grab the bag on his way back to his office.
“You had a call,” his secretary said as he approached his office.
“What? Who?” Damn it. He’d been gone less than two minutes.
Looking confused and curious, Lucy handed him the pink message slip. “A woman. She said you’d understand.”
“I told you to page me if I had any calls.”
Lucy shrugged. “She wouldn’t wait.”
He frowned at the message. And then he smiled. It read: Tonight. By the magician. Six-thirty. Dallas. “What’s this?”
At the sound of Tom’s voice behind him, Eric pocketed the message. “None of your business.”
Lucy’s eyes widened.
Tom laughed. “Testy today, aren’t we?”
Eric sighed and went into his office.
Tom followed. “Is that your secret meeting place? By the magician?”
Eric sat at his desk and glared at him. “You read my message?”
“Yeah, but just over your shoulder. I’m assuming this is the same woman from Saturday night.”
Ignoring him, Eric set aside the ad campaign he’d been working on for his newest client. Ironically an up scale take-out sushi place. He opened the white paper sack and brought out his sandwich. Normally he’d give Tom the dill pickle. Screw him.
“Come on.” Tom sat in the burgundy leather chair opposite Eric’s desk. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me.”
“What are you talking about?” The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched. He could barely contain a grin.
“I’m not stupid. I know you set up Saturday night.”
Tom frowned, pretending confusion. “Saturday night? I don’t get it.”
Eric unwrapped his sandwich. Forget it. He didn’t need Tom to admit his involvement. In fact, he probably should be thanking the pain in the ass. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Come on. Tell your buddy Tom what’s going on.”
Lucy briefly ducked her head in. “Tom, Mr. Webber is looking for you.”
“Thanks.” He got to his feet and, with an annoying grin, said, “Later,” before he disappeared.
Eric leaned back in his chair and stared at his diploma and awards on the opposite wall. His office wasn’t much to write home about. Fairly small, sparse, just like all the other offices except for Webber’s and Thornton’s corner suites. The money and attention had gone into the conference room, where the ad execs met with clients.
He forgot about his sandwich. Forgot about the new ad campaign. Forgot about Tom and his stupid antics. All he could think about was seeing Dallas tonight.
By the magician.
Interesting choice. She could have named a restaurant. Or any number of places. Why Central Park, near the magician? Of course, having had to leave a message probably had something to do with not getting specific. Or maybe…
His heart started to pound. Blood rushed straight to his groin. He’d told her he didn’t live far from there. Maybe she wanted to go to his place.
The thought took hold and wouldn’t dissolve. He barely remembered eating his sandwich. But suddenly it was gone and he was crumpling up the wrapper.
The rest of the afternoon was a total loss. Flashes from last night haunted him. Consumed his concentration. He swore he could smell her honeyed scent, could feel the weight of her breasts in his palms. His body responded fiercely to the memory of her slipping her hand between his thighs. After that, he couldn’t even get comfortable.
An hour earlier than usual he packed it up. He hadn’t gotten a damn bit of work done for three hours. All he could think about was Dallas.
SHE LEFT THE PLAZA HOTEL, where she’d stopped for a drink with Trudie, five minutes before the appointed hour. Trudie thought Dallas was insane for carrying on this charade. But, of course, Trudie’s idea of adventure was trying out a new grocery store.
This was perfectly harmless, Dallas assured herself. She knew she wasn’t the type of woman he wanted. He wasn’t her type either. Not that she had a type. She’d had a couple long-term relationships, including going steady with Steve O’Neil for three chaste years in high school. Every one of the guys had been different. With the exception of Steve, she’d been the one to break off the relationship. The truth was, she didn’t know what she wanted.
But she hadn’t lied to Eric about herself. She simply hadn’t told him anything. He knew all he needed to. Simple sex required no history, no promises.
Eric was already there. He was listening to a couple playing the sax and singing on the corner. Her pulse already starting to race, she slowed to watch him a moment, enjoying the way his jeans hugged his long, lean legs. He had on a black T-shirt this time, but she’d bet anything it had some kind of designer logo on it. That was okay. She was glad he’d dressed more casually than last night. In fact, what she had in mind didn’t require clothes at all.
The song ended, and Eric threw some bills in the basket at the couple’s feet, then stepped away from the crowd and turned in her direction. He spotted her and smiled.