“Anything for you, my friend.” Jimmy looked at Dallas. “Something special for the lady? Our shrimp is very, very fresh today. Or how about some—”
“I love all kinds of food. Surprise us.” She winked at Eric. “I hate to be rude, but we’re going to be late.”
“Right. I’ll be back to pick up dinner in an hour and a half.”
“You want us deliver?” Jimmy asked. “We deliver to you. One hour and a half.”
“I’ll call and let you know.”
Grinning, Jimmy nodded. “Anything for my friend. You call.”
“Thanks.” Eric shook his hand. “Okay if we go out the back way?”
“Yes, yes. Please.” He gestured toward the door.
Ruth called out something in Chinese, to which Jimmy responded in kind.
“See you later, Jimmy.” Eric opened the door and motioned for Dallas to precede him.
“See you, my friend.” Jimmy grinned with a raised hand and watched them go, seeming in no hurry to go back out and help his wife.
They ended up in a short alley with a foul odor thanks to the Dumpster stationed not more than four feet from the door and hurried to the street.
Eric made a face and muttered, “Sorry, who knew the place would be so jammed on a Monday.”
“No problem.” She shrugged. “We can eat anywhere. At the park if you like.”
He gave her an odd look. “You’re really something.”
The appreciation warming in his eyes made her blush. “What?”
He kept staring at her, paying no attention to where they were walking, and then he said half under his breath, “You’re going to be trouble, Dallas. Big trouble.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE WAS TRULY REMARKABLE. ERIC thought about how Tom’s wife, Serena, would have reacted to the whole Chun’s experience. Or Ryan’s wife or Grant’s wife. All nice, attractive ladies, but they would have been totally freaked out to have been herded back into the kitchen and then led out to that putrid-smelling alley.
Hell, he couldn’t even imagine Judy shaking Jimmy’s not-so-sanitary hand. It wasn’t that the women were snobs or anything, just more refined. Different tastes, different backgrounds. They weren’t the type to eat in dives, no matter how good the food.
He glanced over at Dallas just as they approached his building. She put them all to shame. Not just the way she looked… God, as if that wasn’t enough. His chest and groin tightened just looking at her in those tight white pants that looked like a second skin molding that perfect butt. Nice and round and firm. Made his palms itch to cup her to him. Feel her pearled breasts against his chest.
He forced himself to look away before his jeans got so damn tight his doorman would have to help him to the elevator. Anyway, it wasn’t just about the way she looked that turned him on or that set her apart from the other women he knew. It was the way she carried her self with confidence and grace. And more. Much more. Something indefinable that only years of stellar breeding could have produced.
Maybe tonight she’d tell him about herself, about her family. His desire to know about her went beyond curiosity. She fascinated him, occupied his thoughts more than was healthy for him or his career.
He stopped when they got to his apartment building and greeted the new doorman who’d started last week, after Hector had retired and moved to Miami. Eric gestured for her to enter the lobby.
She blinked at him in surprise. “You live here?”
Nodding, he led her to the elevator.
“Nice.”
He smiled. “Too bad the lobby’s bigger than my en tire apartment.”
“So is mine, but at least you have a doorman and an elevator.”
“You have a walk-up?”
“It is now. The elevator broke and they won’t repair it.”
“Wow!” He frowned at her. Surely she could afford something better.
“Why are you surprised? It’s great exercise. And certainly more affordable.”
The elevator door opened, they both stepped inside and he punched the button for the fifth floor. “But having a doorman is more secure.”
“True, but fortunately we haven’t had any problems.”
“We?”
She looked hesitant and his heart plummeted. “I have a roommate.”
“Ah.” He waited for her to drop the bomb.
“Her name’s Wendy.”
“Oh.” He didn’t even bother to hide his relief.
“Did you think—” She squinted at him. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I were living with someone or—heaven forbid—married.”
“Unfortunately not everyone shares your conviction. What do you have against marriage?”
“Nothing.”
They got to his apartment and he dug in his pocket for his keys. “That’s not what it sounded like.”
“I know, but I only meant that getting married is the ultimate commitment. Not something I would take lightly.” She shrugged, glanced briefly at him. “Nor is it on my ‘to do’ list. Not soon, anyway.”
“I understand.” That pretty much summed up his feelings, too. He opened the door. “Jeez, I hope it’s clean. I haven’t paid much attention lately,” he said with a perfectly straight face. “I have a woman who comes in once a week—unfortunately that isn’t until tomorrow.” That part was true.
Dallas walked in and looked around. “You don’t need her. This place is cleaner than mine.” She gave him a smile that suggested she knew he’d spent an hour picking up his crap and scrubbing the bathroom just before meeting her.
“I’m not here much. I work pretty long hours. Make yourself at home.”
“This is really nice.” She trailed her hand along the back of the tan Italian-leather couch he’d spent way too much money for. “Did you decorate it yourself?”
“No, not exactly. But I did pick out the furniture.” Ashley, a woman Judy had tried to fix him up with, had done most of the decorating. Not at his request. She’d insisted. He’d seen her occasionally for about three months. Great sex. Lousy conversation. Their split was mutual.
“I really like this.” Dallas crouched to study the oval glass coffee table with a black iron base that was sup ported by four wrought-iron legs in the shape of elephant tusks. “Very unusual.”
“Yeah, it grabbed me. Hey, about dinner—I’m sorry about the delay. But I have some mixed nuts, if you’re interested.” He stepped into the small kitchen where he kept several bottles of wine, a bottle of scotch, a can of nuts, a jar of peanut butter and little else.
A brown-and-cream-colored granite-top counter separated the living room from the kitchen. Since there was no dining room area, he’d meant to get a couple of bar stools so the counter could be used as a table—as it had probably been intended—but he hadn’t gotten around to it. He never entertained and rarely ate at home, except for maybe cheese and crackers while he sat in front of the television and watched a ball game.
“And wine. You like white, right?” He got out a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator. When he turned around, he found that she’d moved to the counter and, with her forearms resting on the granite, leaned toward him.
His mouth went dry and he exhaled slowly. Her neckline gaped enough to give him an excellent view of the tops of her breasts. He knew she wore a bra, but it had to be really low cut, because another inch and he’d be able to see the rosy crowns.
He realized he’d stared too long and he forced his gaze up to her face. She smiled. He cleared his throat and concentrated on opening the can of nuts.
“How did you and Jimmy Chun get to be such good friends?” she asked.
“We aren’t really. I’ve been getting takeout there for about two years. That’s all.”
Her eyebrows went up. “He apparently has a different perspective.”
“I did him a small favor and now he thinks—” Eric rubbed his jaw “—I don’t know what he thinks.”
“He thinks you’re The Man.”
“Knock it off or no wine for you.”
She laughed. “There’s definitely some hero-worship going on there. What did he mean about having so many customers because of you?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled and got down the wineglasses.
“Come on. Tell me.”
“Are you always this nosy?”
She paused for a moment, as if giving the matter serious thought, her lips pursed in a sexy pout. “No, but I am determined.” She shifted, giving him a better look down her blouse. “And you will tell me.”
He took a deep breath and looked away. “Uh, what were we talking about?”
She laughed and straightened, taking the bottle he’d abandoned and pouring her own wine. “You were about to tell me what you did for Jimmy.”
“Determined, you said. As in stubborn?”
“You got it.” She gave him a smile that could seduce every last secret out of him. “Are you having white, too?”
“Sure.”
She poured another glass of wine and handed it to him. Her fingers casually brushed his, and damn if his gut didn’t tighten. “I’m listening.”
He sighed and came around the counter to join her. After they’d both settled on the couch he said, “The place never seemed crowded. Even at peak lunch or dinner hour. And I knew firsthand the food was terrific. Then one day I overheard him talking to his daughter—the one who was at the register. He told her he was thinking of closing, that business just wasn’t good enough to stay open. She got all upset, and—” he shrugged, uncomfortable talking about this “—I guess I stuck my nose in it.”