“Yeah, man, glad you like nuns.” Zeke swiped his thumb across the keyboard and hit a few chords.
Sheila gently moved Dylan toward the bar. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was Carina. She didn’t say anything to me.”
“Yeah, well, she’s a real private person. Has a stressful job. Sorry I overreacted.” Dylan unclenched his fists and rubbed the sides of his face.
“Ah … You care about her,” Sheila crooned. “Want me to find out if she likes you too?”
“No, please. It won’t work. She’s leaving end of summer and I’m going on the tour if we get it.”
“You still have the summer. She’s a sweetheart, and you’ll be good for her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
“I doubt it. Leave it alone.” An ache gripped the bottom of his heart as he opened his guitar case. Carina was too ambitious and squeaky clean to get involved with a guy like him. He should never have teased her last night, singing to her and acting lovey-dovey.
It had been a stupid charade. Something good for publicity, but not for real. Love was a delusion for people like his mother who died with his father’s name on her lips, not knowing that it was Dylan who held her and told her he loved her.
~ ~ ~
Carina bent over the spreadsheet, checking the references in the formula for each cell. James had been careless, and Rob had assigned Carina to come in Saturday to fix things while he took James and Van to a meeting to prep for the analyst presentation.
She saved the file and set her cursor to the last cell she checked, then trudged to the break room to pour herself a cup of leftover coffee.
Things were awkward between her and Dylan because of the weird feelings warring in her heart. He’d flirted blatantly with her while singing at the club, but was a perfect gentleman afterwards. Yes, they’d held hands and pretended to be a couple, but as soon as they entered the apartment, he was back in roommate mode. Not that she’d have it any other way, but still … he could have at least slipped her a kiss, which she would have duly resisted, of course.
For a moment back there, she’d felt important, her head lifted above the other women, glowing that Dylan Jewell wanted her over them. Her coffee cup trembled as she lifted it to her lips. She could definitely get addicted to that ego boost, but the higher highs plunged to the lowest lows, and right now, she was the afterthought, the platonic roommate while he was living the glamorous rock star, sexy barista lifestyle.
“Whatever.” Carina dumped sugar into bitter coffee, glad she hadn’t actually swapped spit with said rock star. Spit that, according to the six degrees of separation, would have been swapped many times with the entire population of the world.
The lukewarm coffee washed her throat with a nasty aftertaste. She downed it and stumbled back to her desk. Several emails awaited. Fix the fonts on the Stonebridge deal Powerpoint. Run another valuation for Shopahol’s planned acquisition of Crowns and Thrones Gaming. Error check another spreadsheet. And an invitation to the presentation dry-run to critique James’ delivery.
Carina slumped in her desk chair. Why did James, the golden boy who clobbered every living cell out of the spreadsheet, get to present while she sat in the back taking notes like a secretary? Was this the glass ceiling? Or because James was a tall, blond man and he had that look the banks were going for?
Her instant message app chimed.
Rebecca: Heard Dylan’s band’s going on a tour. Why didn’t you tell me?
Carina: I didn’t know, been busy at work.
Rebecca: Getting the lowdown on Dylan’s part of your work.
Carina: Sorry. What do you want me to do?
Right about now, Carina wanted to throw coffee at Rebecca. Her parenting skills had better improve once she married Dylan’s father.
Rebecca: Make him forget the band and go back to his father’s firm.
Really? This was the assignment? Why hadn’t she said so earlier? All this stuff about paying attention, getting his opinion. Was that to soften him up?
Carina: One question. Dylan seems knowledgeable about I-banking. Was he in it once?
Rebecca: He dropped out when things got rough. Fancies himself some sort of neo-hippie. Your objective is for Dylan to join Jewell Capital before my wedding.
Strange. Was this a condition for her to marry Dylan’s father? Why would she care?
Carina: Okay. But we have to be skillful about this. He might balk if I come straight out.
Rebecca: True. He’s very stubborn. The best way to get him to do something is to say the opposite. Present the benefits of the job first, then back off and use reverse psychology. Flirting might help, but don’t go too far with sex.
Wasn’t this confusing? Grrr. But Carina might as well make lemonade out of this situation. What chit could she ask for?
Carina: I have an idea. If I make him compete with me, he’ll be lured back. I’ll brag about my accomplishments.
Rebecca: Like what?
Carina: Giving a presentation to a major client account. That could be a start.
Rebecca: I’ll mention it to Rob.
Yes! About time Carina dug herself out of secretary mode.
Carina: Wonderful. I appreciate it.
Rebecca: No prob. Text me tonight.
~ ~ ~
Dylan swaggered toward his apartment, taking long strides. The heat of the day lingered late into the day. However it wasn’t too bad, considering it was mid-June in Berkeley. After band practice, he had spent several hours with the homeless teens he mentored at the Youth Action Community Garden.
Physical labor was always good for clearing his mind and putting things into perspective. Maybe he could enjoy Carina’s company for a short time. The time limit worked in his favor. They could agree ahead of time to part with no hard feelings. Besides, she was a looker and it’d be fun to loosen her up. Make her wild, go a little crazy.
One thing for sure, she was much too nice to be a banker. Maybe he could raise her social consciousness and help her find her purpose in life. Yep, that would be his little project for the summer.
A horn blared as Dylan jaywalked across the street. Gordie was on his bench in front of the entrance.
“Saw that rich girl come in a few minutes ago.” Gordie held the door and hooked a thumb toward the elevator. “She’s really nice. Gave me another twenty to hold the door for her.”
“Don’t get used to it. She leaves end of summer.”
“Oh, no,” Gordie said. “Then I better find her story quick. I bet she’s a princess, escaped from the Winter Palace where an old witch wants to turn her into a dove.”
“I trust you’ll keep her safe.”
“Aye, aye.” Gordie saluted him. “I’ll slay every dragon and kill every beast.”
Dylan was still chuckling when he slipped his key into the lock. So, Carina had made friends with Gordie. Giving him a twenty every day would do it.
Carina jumped from the sofa and switched off the television as soon as Dylan stepped in.
“Oh, hi,” she said, her hands clasped in front of her.
What had she been doing, watching porn?
“Hey.” Dylan hid a smirk and put his guitar inside the coat closet. “Go ahead and watch whatever you were watching. If it’s any good, I’ll watch it with you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was waiting for you, er … I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I didn’t get dinner ready or anything. We never made an agreement about the food. I’m not much of a cook.”
Where was this coming from? This morning, she’d barely thanked him for her coffee before rushing off to work.
Dylan crossed to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. “You’re not around much, so I don’t expect you to make me anything, although I appreciate the thought.”
She wrung her hands and nodded. “I wanted to thank you for breakfast every morning and treating me so nicely. Have you eaten? Maybe you’re hungry.”
Dylan twisted the cap off the beer bottle and swallowed a draught. She was so cut
e, stammering and looking flustered. Why the come on?
He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and set the beer on the coffee table. “Yep, I’m pretty hungry.”
“So am I.”
“Great, let’s get something to eat.”
“I’d love to. Where?”
She seemed to be angling for a date or something. Maybe she was horny, but she wasn’t the type to come right out and reel him in. Girls like Carina needed the assurance of a date before loosening up.
Dylan held out his hand. “Why don’t we go on a date?”
“Serious? Where?” A trace of a smile lit her face.
“A surprise. Let’s take a walk and get to know each other.”
“Sounds great.” She practically leaped from the sofa. “Let me get dressed. Be right back.”
Good. Lots of nervous tension. She was like a tight spring ready to unleash. Dylan finished the beer and put his hands over his head.
Oh yeah, things were definitely heating up.
Chapter 10
Carina brushed her hair and dabbed on lip gloss. She thumbed through her jewelry chest, selecting a pair of oversized rhinestone hooped earrings.
After spritzing herself with “Love is Heavenly” Body Mist, she went to her closet and pulled on a “Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go Everywhere” V-necked tee and a pair of tie-on shorts embellished with diagonal sequined stripes.
Fun, but not too dressy. Perfect for a friendly outing to ingratiate herself with Dylan enough to discuss his goals. It would be good for him to get back into the game. From what she could tell, he was brilliant and charming, a great motivational speaker and daring performer. He’d go far in business if he’d put his mind to it.
She popped a breath mint into her mouth, slipped on a pair of sandals and stepped from her room. Dylan was pacing and talking on the phone, but he hung up as soon as he spied her.
He sucked in a breath and caught her hands, pulling her toward him. His gaze swept her chest and then he turned her around to read the back of her shirt. “So you’re a good girl when you’re coming toward me, and a bad one when you leave.”
“Maybe I should turn the shirt around.”
“I’ll be glad to help.” He jokingly lifted the hem.
Carina slapped his hands. “Stop it. I’m only the roommate, remember?”
He put on an exaggerated smirk and looked at her sideways. “Problem with having a hot roomie is a lot of cold showers.”
Oh, la, la, he just called her hot. Rebecca did say she could flirt, so a little teasing couldn’t hurt.
“Better than a cold shoulder.” She nudged him. “Ready to go?”
He flashed her a grin and took her hand. “Since you’re blatantly flirting with me, I’m going to hold your hand, touch you in places you didn’t know you had, and if you’re really, really good … or bad, kiss the shorts off you.”
“Who said I was flirting? Don’t be presumptuous. This is one hundred percent business.” She couldn’t let him think she was too forward, although her female parts throbbed inside her shorts.
Dylan’s smile was too knowing as he pulled her through the front door and they walked briskly down the stairs, hand in hand.
A delicious tingle vibrated in her hand where he held it. Carina jiggled her shoulders, feeling free and just a little too bold. What’s the harm in pretending? Especially since she was doing this for a good cause. She couldn’t blame Rebecca for being concerned, and so what if it was underhanded? As Rebecca said, Dylan enjoyed the attention.
They walked through the lobby and stepped to the sidewalk. Gordie was at his post, sitting on a bench shaped like a bear. He played a slow, lilting tune on a thin metal tube, a tin whistle. Dylan stopped and placed his hand on his heart.
“Loch Lomond,” he whispered to Carina, before joining in with his baritone voice.
Chills prickled Carina as the mournful tune made its way down her spine. Lost lovers, yearning to meet. A lump rose in her throat.
Dylan and Gordie finished with the chorus, “me and my true love wil’ ne’er meet again …”
“Me and my true love.” Gordie sighed. “I took the high road and she took the low road, aye … I never saw her again.”
His eyes held a faraway gleam. “Twas after the battle of Culloden, the earth drunk with blood, the heart of Scotland lay dead.”
Dylan slipped him a bill. “Aye, the fields green with peace, reborn. Silent except for the wee birdie’s call.”
“The stones of the clans stand in stark memory.”
“Where wild flowers spring and thistle bloom purple. Go to her, Gordie, and meet her on the loch.”
“Aye, I’ll slip through the stones and see her bonnie and fair.” Gordie wiped a tear and put the pipe to his lips. “Och, aye, Sassenach, take ye lass and make yer own story.”
He slid the mouthpiece between his lips while Dylan waved goodbye.
“He’s all about stories, isn’t he?” Carina said when they were a block away. “Was he a student at Berkeley?”
“Yes, in the late eighties. He was a history major with a minor in philosophy. Very bright guy.”
Sounded like her brother. He’d been a straight-A student at Harvard before his breakdown. Now he imagined himself the rightful Emperor of China who was dethroned by the Mongols.
“Does Gordie have family?” Carina asked.
“Don’t know.” Dylan looked thoughtful. “According to him, he left them behind when he time jumped. But I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s happier than a lot of people stuck in the daily grind.”
They walked down the street, past a grand post office with its striking arches and columns. A placard proclaimed it a historical site, built in the style of the Second Renaissance Revival: To educate and develop the public taste and eventually elevate it to a higher plane.
Idealistic, like many of the colorful people she’d met so far in Berkeley. Especially the man who held her hand.
Warm feelings bubbled in her chest as she swung her arms, taking big steps to keep from stepping on the cracks. Dylan tried to pull her close to him, but she jumped onto the steps in front of the building and counted eleven interlocking Spanish arches and ten columns.
“What’s your story?” Dylan beamed at her.
Wait. She was supposed to get Dylan’s story and change it. But when Dylan tickled her waist, the sensation had her gasping for breath. His scrutiny woke a flutter of butterflies inside her. She’d never held hands with a guy and taken a lazy stroll in a summer’s evening. Check, she’d never had the leisure time nor a boyfriend.
“Nothing interesting.” She lowered her gaze as they crossed the street, trusting Dylan would steer them around any cars.
“I see a lot that interests me,” he said.
Carina hopped onto the low wall of the concrete planter, bringing herself eye-level with him.
“I’m not telling,” she teased. “A woman’s got to keep a few secrets.”
Especially the ones she preferred not to tell. She walked on the planter wall like it was a balance beam while he held her hand.
“And a man’s job is to dig it all out of her,” he said right before yanking her off and into his arms, swinging her around.
She couldn’t help looping her arms around his neck. He was so freakin’ hot, and his happy male scent invited her to hang on tighter. This was pretend anyway, and for a good cause, so she kissed his cheek. “What do you want to know?”
“Specifically?” He quirked his lips. “Why a sweetheart like you wants to go into investment banking.”
Sweetheart? Carina bristled at the way he tossed that term around. Was he demeaning her? Acting as if she wasn’t good enough? Just a female decoration?
She leveled her gaze on his chin. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s an honorable profession. Without bankers, where would business owners get loans and raise working capital?”
“Did I suggest it was dishonorable? I only ask why you would go into it, given the long hours and
sacrifices. Don’t you want a normal life?”
Define normal, buddy. As if slouching around the apartment making coffee and strumming on a guitar were normal.
Carina kept her cool, lifting her nose to look down on him. “The sacrifices are well worth it. Businesses create wealth which helps the common people. Think of all the new products, services and jobs they provide.”
Dylan swung her around, his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to convince me. I only wondered if you have any other dreams.”
“I don’t sit around dreaming.”
“Uh, Carina? I’m not one of your bosses. I know you’re a hard worker, reliable and ambitious. But I want to know what makes your life meaningful. What is the mark you want to make in this world?”
Perhaps he was digging for typical Miss America answers like world peace, ending hunger, breaking down divisions between people. But those were abstract and vague, not measurable goals.
“How about you?” she asked. When life presents an unanswerable question, turn it around.
He raised his eyes to the sky, closed them, and inhaled through his nose, his lips pressed in a slight smile. “Me? I want to increase the positive energy in the world. All around us are war, misery, bullying, hunger, and grief. I want to make a difference.”
“Like what?”
“Being kind, doing what I can. For example, if I see a person in line behind me at the grocery store with only a few items, I wave them ahead. I always get a smile and make that person feel better. It’s like you giving Gordie a twenty for holding the door. You’re throwing a positive gemstone into the heap of negative thorns.”
“Uh, I feel sorry for him.” Carina didn’t want Dylan to think she had a bleeding heart or anything.
“No need to pity him. He’s happy. He’s free. No boss to answer to. No worries.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I’m not quite there. I believe I can do more than dream about past battles. I can make a positive difference in people’s lives.”
Carina’s step was lighter as they crossed the street and strolled past the striking buildings of Berkeley High School with their sculpted murals. Dylan was idealistic, but practical. He’d make an excellent financier.
Whole Latte Love (The Jewells) Page 10
