“Wait a minute.” Dallas motioned for her to sit back down. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”
Their expectant gazes riveted to her.
She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, trying to stop the crazy thoughts from taking over. Ironic, really, that she was suddenly in such demand. Pulled from opposite ends of the spectrum. But only one side truly needed her.
“I’m saying that I’ll think about it.” Ludicrous to back-pedal when she knew exactly what she had to do. “I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I DON’T KNOW what the big deal is. I’d kill for something like this to fall in my lap. I’m jealous as hell.” Wendy fished the green olive out of her martini and popped it into her mouth. She looked at Dallas over the rim of her glass. “You’d be silly to pass up an opportunity like this.”
Trudie snorted and set down her Fuzzy Navel to glare at Wendy. “Of course it’s a big deal. Dallas can’t just desert her friends now.”
“Did I suggest she desert them?” Wendy looked from Trudie to Dallas. “Anybody hear me say that? I’m just saying there’s gotta be a way to work this out so she doesn’t lose the contract.”
Duh. Is that all? Dallas sighed and briefly closed her eyes. Thank God the neighborhood restaurant wasn’t crowded. Only three other booths were occupied. If she screamed, there wouldn’t be too many witnesses to her meltdown.
Her friends meant well, but they weren’t helping. Besides, she was tired and cranky and feeling guilty for lying to Eric about why she couldn’t see him tonight. She’d told him she had a work emergency, which wasn’t a total lie. But what she should have done was gone ahead and met with him, explained her dilemma and let the chips fall where they may.
Of course, then he’d probably withdraw the offer, tell her she didn’t have the right image after all. Not for Horn. Not for Eric. They didn’t want just a pretty face. They wanted a total package, at least Eric did. And then if that was the case, screw him.
“Dallas?” Wendy waved a hand in front of her face. “What’s going on in there?”
She shook her head. “I have never been so confused in my entire life.”
“Okay, look. I think I’m missing something here.” Wendy shot Trudie a warning glance. “You let me finish before you jump down my throat. This is how I see it. First, you do want the modeling job, right?”
Dallas nodded.
“But you feel an obligation to finish what you started with your buddies on the work crew, which I totally get. But why can’t you do both? I mean, wouldn’t it be kind of dramatic if you suddenly quit and, hell, lie, tell them you’re quitting because of the harassment. That would work in everyone’s favor.”
“You don’t understand. These guys have no con science, plus they’re sneaky and relentless. Those women would have no defense once I left.”
Wendy sighed. “Well, Florence Nightingale, maybe your little chicks should just grow up.”
“See? That’s what I hate.” Trudie glared at Wendy. “Do you have to be so snide? This is serious.”
Just when Dallas figured the fireworks would start, Wendy gave them a wry smile and said, “I’m just saying—okay, really badly—but I want Dallas to think about herself for a change. She’s bailed both of us out many times,” she said, glancing at Trudie and then back to Dallas. “You’re always there for everyone else. Do this for yourself.”
“It’s not that simple,” Dallas murmured, sorry she’d involved them. They didn’t understand, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to let them in on her stupidity. The fantasy had taken over. She’d been Cinderella for several nights. And then it stretched out to a week, and now this.
“It can be.”
“I agree with Wendy.” Trudie sat back to nurse her Fuzzy Navel. “Eric said he’d work around your schedule. Maybe you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.”
“Maybe.” Dallas exhaled sharply. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“You don’t look happy.” Trudie sat forward again, concern darkening her heavily made-up eyes. “Was he freaked when you told him what you really do?”
Avoiding their eyes, Dallas grabbed her club soda, and it sloshed onto the table.
“Dallas?” They both said at the same time.
“What?”
“You haven’t told him,” Trudie said in utter amazement.
Wendy muttered a curse. “Dallas, you’re probably more worried about your image than he is.”
Dallas clenched her teeth at the stinging words. “Tomorrow night, okay. I’m telling him tomorrow night.”
DALLAS HAD JUST CLOCKED OUT for the day when her cell phone rang. It was probably Eric again. He’d al ready called twice today. She hadn’t picked up either time. Not that she was too chicken to talk to him. Well, there was that, too. But each time she’d been working, and the boss was strict about personal calls on company time.
She grabbed her lunch pail and the cell phone off her belt at the same time, hoping to get away from the machinery noise. The project was behind schedule, and half the guys were working overtime. She hadn’t been asked if she wanted more hours, of course, nor had Nancy. After all, they weren’t heads of households with wives and children to feed. Their attitude made her sick. Made her fighting mad. That’s why she couldn’t accept Eric’s offer.
By the fourth ring she’d freed the phone from her belt and glanced at the caller ID. With a mixture of disappointment and relief she saw that it was Trudie and answered it.
“Dallas, thank God.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?”
“I just got off work. Trudie, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“How fast can you get to the store?”
“Trudie!”
“You’ve got to do this for me. Starla is sick again, and if I don’t have someone in that window in one hour, I’m going to be in serious trouble.”
Dallas put a hand to her throat and released a breath. “Damn it. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Please, Dallas. I’ll owe you big-time.”
“You already do,” she muttered, thinking about how this whole mess with Eric started. “I just got off work. I’ve got to shower and wash my hair and—”
“No, come straight here. We’ll work all that out, even if we have to use the fitness center next door.”
“You know I have to talk to Eric tonight.”
“That’s tonight?”
Dallas sighed and checked her watch. “Would I have to stay until nine?”
“Would eight work?”
“I’ll be right there.”
“I love you, kiddo.” Trudie paused. “From what you said, Eric sounds like a great guy. Don’t underestimate him.”
“I know.” She started to tell Trudie about her decision but stopped herself. No more discussion was needed. She knew what she had to do. “I’ve gotta go catch a cab if you want me there soon.”
“Go.”
They hung up, and Dallas hurried to the corner to catch a Yellow cab that had just dropped someone off. Once she climbed inside, she called Eric’s number and got his voice mail. She left a message suggesting they meet later, close to nine, and tried not to dwell on how torturous it was going to be, stuck in that window, thinking about how she had to spill everything to Eric.
She reminded herself that she’d done nothing wrong. She’d never lied about herself. And she wasn’t embarrassed, as her mother had hinted. Not really. Her work simply wasn’t anything you discussed over dinner. It was boring, really.
Traffic wasn’t horrendous yet, at least not by Manhattan standards, and she got to the corner of Lexington and Fifty-seventh in good time. There the bottleneck started, so she got out to walk the rest of the way. Every one else was dressed in business attire, and she got several second looks and a few blatant stares that really irked her.
Damn, but she should have at least found a mirror. Made a few repairs. She always went straight home after work and changed out of her overalls, even if she was meeting Tony and some of the other guys for a beer. But here she was, in midtown no less, her hard hat in one hand and her lunch pail in the other. God only knew what her hair and face looked like. Trudie would pay dearly for this.
Dallas spotted her standing outside the store, waiting, with a bag in her hand. She was looking the other way, so Dallas couldn’t get her attention. Especially not with all the pedestrians who seemed to have come out of nowhere, as if the recess bell had just rung. Good in a way, because people paid less attention to Dallas.
She narrowly dodged a man too busy talking on a cell phone to see her but then bumped into someone else. “Excuse me,” she said and looked up into Eric’s stunned eyes. Horrified, she tried to sidestep him. Disappear before his shock wore off. She ended up running into Tom. Literally.
He took her arm to keep her from stumbling, his face a mask of astonished disbelief.
“Dallas?”
She looked back to Eric. “Hi.”
He stared at her for one very long, miserable moment. Then his gaze went to the Aladdin lunch pail, to the yellow hard hat, then returned to her face. “What are you doing?”