by Cara Summers
“I know a place that makes the best cappuccino.” Eric raised his hand to hail a cab.
Dallas smiled. “I’ll have to pass.”
“It’s only five minutes away.”
“Sorry.”
He muttered a mild curse. “I’ve screwed up.”
“No, you haven’t,” she said, touching his hand. “Not at all.”
He turned his hand over until their palms met and squeezed gently. “Am I going to see you again?”
She nodded just as a cab pulled alongside the curb.
“Will you go with me on Wednesday night?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have your phone number.” He opened the cab door and stood aside for her.
“I’ll call you.”
“What if I can’t wait until Wednesday?”
She smiled. “You can take this cab. There’s another one behind it.”
One side of his mouth hiked up. “I don’t suppose you’d let me ride with you to your place.”
“I don’t suppose I would.” She leaned toward him for a kiss. A brief, friendly good-night kiss.
He wanted more and took it.
He tugged her forward and she came up against him, her still-sensitive breasts pressed to his chest. He cupped her nape, and as she opened her mouth to his demanding kiss, he held her steady while he got his fill.
The impatient cabbie muttered something about turning on the meter. The interruption saved her from ending up on the sidewalk in a boneless mess. She pulled away from Eric, her knees close to giving out, and crawled into the backseat, yanking the door closed be hind her.
On the other side of the closed window, Eric smiled and then mouthed Good night.
The cab pulled away. She tried to wave. She didn’t have the strength.
“YO, SHEA,” TONY ST. ANGELO called from hands cupped around his mouth. “You ready for lunch?”
“Five more minutes,” Dallas hollered back and then used her sleeve to wipe the sweat off her brow.
Today was way too hot to be working outdoors. But that was the breaks. Just part of the job. That’s why she got paid the big bucks.
Right.
She adjusted her sunglasses and then dug for her bottle of water without letting go of the heavy Stop sign she’d been holding most of the damn morning. She hated traffic duty. With a passion. Even shoveling rocks and brick from a razed building was preferable. But this was a punishment she often received. For no other reason than being a woman working in a man’s world.
Tony was one of the good guys. One of the pathetically few who didn’t blame her for “taking a man’s job away from him.” He always waited to have lunch with her, though he was allowed to break at any time. The two traffic workers had the only formally scheduled breaks. She even had to get permission to go to the bathroom.
She waited for the radio message and then dutifully carried her sign to the middle of the road, bringing traffic to a halt and enduring angry honking until the back loader cleared the intersection. Then she radioed to her partner on the other end to resume traffic and waited for someone to come and relieve her for lunch. She pushed back the top of her glove and checked her watch. As usual her relief wasn’t in any hurry.
In the beginning, with the exception of Tony and Sam—and Billy, when the other guys weren’t around—the rest of them had treated her like a pariah, pulling seniority and giving her jobs that no one else wanted. They had made snide remarks, sometimes crude ones, under their breaths when no one but she could hear. Even so, after they’d clocked out for the day, half of the stupid bastards had hit on her at least once.
That had mostly changed after she’d made it clear she wouldn’t put up with that ridiculous behavior. Of course there were two exceptions who insisted on acting like macho idiots, but they were easy to ignore.
What really got to her was that Nancy—the other woman on the crew—put up with their harassment. She accepted after-work drink offers even though she couldn’t stand the guys. But she was a single mother with limited skills who desperately needed the job and felt she had to play nice no matter what.
Dallas, on the other hand, stuck around partly out of stubbornness but mostly because she didn’t know what else to do with her life. Nothing really called to her; she had no passion. Not like her brother or sister who both lived and breathed the intricacies of the law, or her father, a well-respected judge, whose views on education and child abuse had achieved national notoriety. Even her mother had made a name for herself in the science community. Dallas envied them their passion and focus. While in graduate school, after she’d become disgusted with modeling, she’d gone to a temporary agency for work. She’d quickly found she hated sitting in front of a computer all day. Adding columns of numbers hadn’t turned out to be her thing either.
Then a new temp agency had mistakenly placed her on a construction site. To her amazement, she’d found she liked working outdoors. She no longer had to worry about every morsel she ate or what to wear, or how many mistakes she made typing. After she punched her time card, she didn’t have to worry about anything related to work.
“Okay, Shea. Lunch.” Rocky roughly grabbed the sign out of her hand. He was one of the two Neanderthals left and hated relieving her. “That’s thirty minutes only. Got it?”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows and looked at him over her sunglasses. “It hasn’t changed?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” he mumbled and snatched the radio.
“I wouldn’t want to take away your job.” She smiled sweetly and walked away from his barrage of curses.
Tony was waiting for her at the curb with both of their lunch pails. “He giving you a bad time again?”
“What’s new?”
“Damn low-life bottom-feeder. I still think you should report him.”
“Like that would help.” She took her Aladdin lunch pail—a gag gift from Wendy—from him and they both turned toward the small park they’d found last week. “He’s in so tight with old man Capshaw, it’s pathetic.”
“Yeah, he’s either kissing ass or sleeping with the old guy.”
Dallas laughed. “You would think of that.”
“Tell you what, how about I just punch him out in the meantime?”
“Hey, if that’s what I wanted, I’d do it myself.”
This time Tony laughed. “Yeah, you probably would. Seriously, though, I don’t care how tight Rocky is with Capshaw, this is a legal issue. Capshaw’s Construction is too big. He can’t afford to ignore a complaint and get ripped apart by the EEO, ERA or whoever the hell is involved.”
“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.
The way her heart seemed to flip-flop was totally ridiculous. Amazingly foolish. But only because he had such a good body. Not muscular b
ut kind of lean and wiry, like a long-distance runner.
“Hi.” He took her hand and bent to kiss her briefly on the lips.
The familiarity surprised her, and she stiffened.
He released her hand. “Guess I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No. I mean, it’s fine. Really.” She shrugged a shoulder, feeling awkward suddenly. “You just took me by surprise.”
“So did you. Thanks for calling.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”
He reared his head back. “You gotta be kidding.”
She smiled, her confidence returning. “You could have had a meeting or something.”
“I would have canceled it.”
“Just like that?”
“Uh-huh.” He smiled, his gaze slowly taking in the clingy peach-colored V-neck top she’d borrowed from Wendy. Probably a tad too small for Dallas, but she loved the color. “You look great. I mean, really terrific.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, a little embarrassed by his obvious appreciation but also glad she’d splurged on a trendy new pair of white capris after work. Might as well show off her tan while it lasted.
He took her arm and they started walking. “You have anything in mind?”
She nearly missed a step and had to take a deep breath before she answered. “A drink maybe.”
“How about some dinner?”
“Okay.” She wasn’t the least bit hungry. But she supposed dinner could be a start. “Have any place in mind?”
“Hmm…” He thought for a moment. “You like Chinese?”
“Love it. But this time it’s my treat. Nonnegotiable.”
He smiled. “There’s a hole-in-the-wall five blocks from here. Great food. They even cook everything.”
She laughed. “You were a good sport last night.”
“I still think that California roll had something raw in it.”
“See? You’re still alive.”
He stopped and stared at her. “You swore there was nothing raw in—”
