“I’m late,” she said, backing away and bumping into a man who cursed when she smashed his white deli sack. “Sorry,” she muttered to him. Then she said to Eric, “I really have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
Eric watched her hurry through the crowd and meet up with a short, well-dressed woman who grabbed her arm and hustled her off in the other direction. Half of him wanted to follow them and the other half was too stunned to move.
“What the hell was that about?” Tom stood beside him, the two of them staring after her.
“I have no idea.”
“We’d better move before we get trampled.”
Eric seemed rooted to the spot. He couldn’t get the image of her in dusty overalls and steel-toed boots out of his mind. Not just that. Her smudged face. Her hair a total mess, so dusty, it looked brown. He almost hadn’t recognized her.
“Come on, Eric, or I’m going to Pete’s without you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said, taking a final look, even though she’d already disappeared. He finally turned around. A double shot of scotch sounded damn good about now.
HER HANDS SHAKING, DALLAS reached for the door handle. She’d already seen him through the window, sitting at the bar, staring at the baseball game on the wall-mounted television. The place was dim, not crowded, and for both those reasons she’d asked him to meet her here.
Not that she had to worry anymore about how she looked. She’d been cleaned up, coiffed and made up, thanks to one of the store’s stylists. She looked just like the old Dallas. At least, the one Eric was used to.
If only she had told him before he’d seen her, she wouldn’t be so nervous. Wouldn’t feel guilty, as if she’d done something wrong, which she absolutely hadn’t. She just wished her damn hands would stop trembling.
She opened the door and he looked over at her. He smiled, but it wasn’t the same excited smile he normally gave her. He looked confused, maybe even apprehensive, and she didn’t blame him. Nor did she blame him for the way he sized her up. Head to toe. As if trying to convince himself seeing her earlier had been a bad dream.
Clearing her throat, she took the stool next to him and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey back.” He signaled the bartender. “Wine?” he asked her a little too politely, his tone a little distant.
Or was it her imagination? Was she seeing and hearing what she expected to see and hear? “A triple martini would be much better.”
He smiled.
She looked at the bartender. “Club soda, please.”
“I’ll have another,” Eric told the man and then turned back toward her but said nothing.
The silence got too maddening, and she pretended interest in the television. “So, who’s winning?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh. I thought you were watching.”
His gaze stayed on her. “Were you avoiding me today?”
“No.” She gave an emphatic shake of her head. “No, really, I was working and couldn’t pick up.”
“Working?”
“Uh-huh,” she said and pounced on the club soda the bartender set in front of her. She hurriedly took a big gulp. Too big. It made her cough.
“You okay?” He touched her arm, and the familiarity was so reassuring, she wanted to melt into him.
“Fine. Now. I was in the window again tonight. For three hours. It was last-minute, and all I could think about was getting something to drink and going to the bathroom.”
He nodded knowingly. “I knew you were doing the display window again.”
“How?” Had she missed him in the crowd tonight? God knew she’d been looking.
“That ridiculous way you were dressed. Tom and I figured it out.” He chuckled. “I can’t imagine what kind of display you were doing. I wanted to swing by and have a look, but I had to meet a client for dinner. Be sides, I didn’t want to embarrass you, either.”
She looked down at her tightly clasped hands, wondering what happened to that speech she’d spent two hours rehearsing. Not a speech, really, just a few sentences. She figured she couldn’t handle much more.
“Take Horn’s offer,” Eric said, covering both her hands with one of his. “And you won’t have to do any more of those windows or dress like that again. You’re better than that, Dallas.”
She stiffened, and he leaned forward to lightly kiss her lips. She let him, even though she didn’t appreciate what he’d said. After he sat back again, she bit her lip and stared down at her lap. If she looked him in the eyes, she’d get all jumbled up.
“Dallas?”
She looked up into his anxious eyes and swallowed. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me again. Please.”
He smiled and, leaning toward her, cupped the back of her neck. Their lips met, and she put more enthusiasm into this kiss—enough that his ardent response made her a little dizzy. Made her chicken. But she had no choice. No more fantasy life. This was the end of the line.
She wasn’t sure who broke the kiss. They both kind of leaned back at the same time and looked at each other. The only other two sitting at the bar, on the opposite end, let out a howl. Apparently one of the base ball teams had scored. Dallas glanced up at the screen and saw that the game had ended.
“You’re not going to accept Horn’s offer,” he said in a flat voice.
Her gaze went to him. He didn’t look happy. “I’m sorry if that screws you up.”
“Are you going to tell me why you won’t consider it?”
“I did consider it and I’ve decided it’s not the right path for me to take.”
“Maybe we should discuss this further. I don’t think you realize what kind of opportunity this is. Horn is very influential in the business community. He has deep pockets and he loves to spend money on advertising.”
“Look, Eric, I do understand and I’m flattered that you both want me for this position, but I already have a job, and—”
“I told you that working around your schedule is no problem.”
She smiled sadly and then looked away. “I don’t exactly have the kind of image Horn wants.”
“Are you kidding? You’re perfect.”
Oh, God, this was so hard. “You know how I was dressed earlier?”
He nodded and then laughed, shook his head.
“That wasn’t about a window display. That’s me. The real me.”
“What are you talking about?”
She swallowed. “I had just gotten off work when you saw me.”
“No, you were going to work. You did a window display tonight.”
“Yes, but that was a favor for a friend. I believe I’d told you I haven’t been in modeling for a while now.” She hated watching the confusion draw his face into a frown. Hated knowing she was about to end the fantasy forever.
Her stomach was in one big knot, and she swore she was going to be sick if she didn’t hurry and get this over with. But all the carefully chosen words she’d practiced wouldn’t come to mind. And every bit of it was her fault. She should have told him the moment he’d made the offer. Before he’d seen her dressed in dirty overalls, carrying that stupid Aladdin lunch pail. God, if she could only start over…
Eric could see something was wrong. Seriously wrong. She could have blindfolded him to keep from seeing the anguish on her face and he would know just by the tension cramping the muscles in his shoulders and the back of his neck.
He silently cleared his throat and reached for her hand. It was cold and she immediately drew back. “Dallas, you’re obviously upset. Whatever’s wrong, I’m sure we can fix it.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a matter of fixing it. I’m not a model. I don’t have a glamorous job. I’m a construction worker. Garden variety. That’s it.”
“What?” He started to laugh, until he saw that she was serious. “But you have a graduate degree.”
“Yes,” she said flatly.
He stared, waiting, expecting this to be part of the joke. “You’re serious,” he said finally.
Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I wouldn’t make up something like this.”
“Why?”
“Why have I chosen to work in construction?”
He nodded, not knowing what to say yet juggling a dozen questions in his mind. Hard to reconcile the gorgeous woman sitting in front of him with the one he saw on the street earlier.
“It started out as an accident. After I quit modeling, I signed up with a temporary agency and they sent me on a laborer’s job. I have to admit I was somewhat appalled at first, but it was kind of kicky, you know? Doing something so incredibly different. And the pay sure beat typing or answering phones or filling a clerical position.”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “And your parents hated it.”
Sighing, she briefly looked down at her hands. “Childish, I know.”
He took a sip of his scotch, letting silence stretch, trying to figure out where this left them. Personally nothing had to change. After all, what did they have besides sex?
At that undeniable truth, anger gripped him. Anger at her for not being honest with him. Anger with him self for caring.
God, what a mess. He had to hold it together, though. He still had Horn’s account to worry about.