She didn’t ask him for the simple reason that she didn’t want to know the answer.
“My escort, huh?” It was a step, she told herself. Rome wasn’t built in a day or something like that.
“Sure,” Doug said as if he were speaking to a slow child.
“Like go on a date together?” The question tumbled out of her mouth as if she was fourteen and Amy wondered if this one clueless man would always have the same effect on her.
“Yes,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m asking you out on a date.”
She straightened from the refrigerator, a surge of silly happiness making her suddenly giddy. “Well, I don’t know, Doug. I hardly know you!”
He chuckled. “Don’t say that, Amy. If you don’t know me, no one does.”
“Remember that,” she responded softly.
CHAPTER THREE
Kelsey tugged the short red dress down, slipping her arms through the sleeveless sheath’s arm holes. Counting her high-heeled sandals, she wore exactly four separate pieces of clothing. Panties were her only concession to modesty.
Dispensing with hose made her feel both summery and bare. The awards dinner would no doubt be hot and crowded, populated with the odd mixture of artistic types and business bottom-liners who made up the advertising scene. She wanted to stay cool.
She also wanted to make Jared Barrett sweat.
Her downstairs buzzer sounded and Kelsey sprinted over to press the button to let Jared in. She glanced around her crowded apartment, not overly concerned with its slight clutter, but curious as to what he’d see.
He knocked at the door and Kelsey pulled it open without checking the peephole.
“Hello,” Jared said with a lean smile.
“Hi.” She tried to keep the school girl squeak out of her voice, but, darn it, he was wearing a tuxedo and he looked good enough to eat. Not ordinary in any sense of the word, she reflected.
“Come in,” Kelsey offered, feeling oddly skittish. “I just need to get my wrap.”
When she came back into the living room, he stood studying a collection of photographs on the wall near the door.
“Did you do these?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yes,” she admitted, feeling unaccountably defensive, “being an art director does require a measure of creativity.”
“I’m sure it requires a lot of talent,” Jared declared. “I’m just surprise at your choice of subjects.”
Kelsey glanced at the framed photos, now more embarrassed than anything. “I like houses. They’re peaceful and…homey.”
“Yes, they are,” he agreed, warmth and sincerity in his voice. “Beautiful, too.”
“Thank you.” She fidgeted with the sliver of red chiffon, catching it with an end over each elbow.
“Ready to go?” He gestured toward the door.
“Yes,” she said, plucking her sequined, heart-shaped purse up from a chair.
The elevator delivered them to the lobby with blessed speed. Kelsey stared at the numbers, aware that she was almost jumpy tonight for some weird reason. It wasn’t as if a date had never picked her up at her apartment before.
Jared cupped a warm hand behind her elbow and guided her toward the lobby doors. Kelsey walked outside, very conscious of him behind her.
“My goodness,” she said, spotting the gleaming black limo at the curb. “No taxi tonight?”
Jared laughed.
“Taxis are only impressive in rain storms. The limo has plenty of room for your ball gown.” His sardonic gaze seemed to caress her brief, clingy dress.
Kelsey couldn’t help an inward smirk as she climbed into the limousine. He wasn’t totally immune. Somehow that pleased her.
“I trust you arrived at your dinner engagement yesterday with only minimal dampness?” Jared inquired, leaning comfortably back on his side of the car.
“Yes, thank you,” she said. “And my friend was suitably awed when I recounted your taxi feat.”
He grinned. “I just love awing women.”
“I’m sure,” Kelsey said dryly, wondering how one man could pack such a punch with a simple facial expression. Truly the world wasn’t fair.
“So this banquet tonight…rubber chicken?”
“Probably,” she said, resisting the urge to tug her skirt down. With his slight angle towards her, Jared didn’t even have to turn his head to look at her and he was certainly looking his fill. She couldn’t help a small surge of satisfaction.
“Dinner, award-giving and…?”
“Dancing, usually,” she finished. “But a lot of the business people don’t stay.”
“Advertising people are such clean-living folk. Early to bed, early to rise,” he said, teasing.