“A business dress, but one you can move in,” Eamon said. He grabbed her hand, and led her toward her front door. He drew Sarah into his arms and kissed her softly, expertly, lingering a moment savoring her sweet lips. As he was turning to leave he stopped, kissed her once more and said, “I had a great time, Sarah. Thanks for the evening.” With an appreciative smile that displayed his devastating dimple, he disappeared into the night.
Chapter 3
When her doorbell rang on Sunday, Sarah found Eamon in a charcoal gray suit, white shirt and black and gold tie with a pattern that consisted of the official griffon logo repeated throughout. He looked marvelous.
Before seeing him, she’d wondered if her blue wool jersey was too dressy, now she knew better. She was glad she’d chosen the simple classic dress. It went better with his classic look.
“Ready?” Eamon asked.
“I just need my things.” Sarah went back into her apartment and returned with her purse and her coat.
Eamon took the coat from her and held it out. “It’s cold, you’ll need this.”
“Thank you.” Sarah put her arms into the sleeves and then Eamon tucked her arm through his. At his car, he held the door open.
“Would you like some music?” He asked when he got in.
“Sure,” Sarah said.
“Play mash up four,” Eamon said. The car began playing music.
Sarah laughed.”Music in my car consists of ancient CDs, shoved into the slot in the hope that one day they will return unharmed.”
Eamon had his eyes on the road but he smiled at her remark. “I have to admit, I do love the toys and the gadgets. Is there anything in particular you’d like to hear?”
“Anything is fine.”
She relaxed against the car seat and listened to the music, a mixture of rock and roll, video game music and the occasional jazz number.
Eamon took I-435 North and about thirty minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a large church. Eamon pulled into a parking spot by the parish hall. As they walked toward the door, Sarah could hear ballroom music and she laughed in delight. “Wow! Ballroom dancing?”
“Yeah,” Eamon told her as they walked into the parish hall foyer. “I had a hunch you might enjoy this.”
“I can’t claim to be Ginger Rogers, but if you keep the steps simple, I should be able to follow,” Sarah replied as they took their coats to the cloak room.
As they walked into the main hall, a six piece band was playing a waltz at the far end of the hall. The floor was cleared for the dancers though there were tables and chairs around the edge. Two women stood behind the kitchen pass-through selling drinks to the thirsty. People of all ages were dancing and some of the dancers waved to Eamon who waved back.
“Sarah, you can leave your purse on the table. It’ll be safe there.” Eamon led her out onto the dance floor in time for a foxtrot. He realized that Sarah could dance, so when a tango began, Eamon put her firmly on his hip and drew her in close. Relaxed and entirely at ease as they glided over the dance floor, Sarah fit him like a tailor made suit and moved as though she’d always been his partner. She was warm and smooth against him—her sweet body radiated heat through the thin wool jersey dress she wore and he could feel the muscles of her back respond as they danced together. Eamon was intensely aware of her hip pressed into his, of her thigh against his and as her scent rose into his nostrils, the pleasure became almost unbearable.
When the music ended, Eamon decided that lemonade was definitely in order. He took Sarah by the hand and led her over to the kitchen.
“Hi Eamon,” a silver-haired woman said as Sarah and he walked up. “Glad you could join us, sweetie. How’s your mom and dad?”
“Doing well, Mrs. West, doing well.”
“And who is your friend?”
Eamon turned to Sarah and brought her a little closer. “Mrs. West, this is Sarah Adams. And this…” he said, indicating the hall, “…is the parish in which I was baptized. I went to school here.” Eamon smiled at Mrs. West. “There’s very little Mrs. West doesn’t know about me, because she used to serve food in our school cafeteria.”
Sarah put her hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. West.”
Mrs. West shook her hand. “And you. Will it be coffee, tea or lemonade?”
“Ice Tea?”
“Sure.”
“Ice Tea, no sugar,” Sarah said.
Eamon took lemonade. As they walked toward their table, Mrs. West gave Eamon a “thumbs up” sign. A waltz began and Eamon rose, escorting Sarah out to the floor where they danced until seven.
As they were walking to the car, Sarah inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “That was lovely, Eamon. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. And, by the way, I’m still waiting for your concert schedule.”
“I forgot! Some paralegal I am! I’ll email you the dates tomorrow,” Sarah told him.
“You’d better.” Eamon pulled up to Sarah’s apartment building and saw her to her door. Eamon leaned in and kissed her lips. He pressed her close, savoring her warm, soft body against his and her eager kisses. She parted her lips and he explored with his tongue.
Sarah looked into his eyes, “Do you want to come in?”
Eamon stopped and said nothing for a long moment. “I want to,” he said at last, “but you have work tomorrow. I’d better go.” He kissed her again. “Good night Sarah.”
Sarah closed the door, puzzled and a little hurt by his abrupt departure.
Eamon got his car and sat there. Why had he done that? He wanted her. He wanted her a lot. And she had just issued an invitation, he was pretty sure. But he couldn’t do it because of the trust he saw in her eyes. She thought he was a nice guy, he could tell and he couldn’t take advantage of her that way, not with her company in the wind. And that was weird, because he never gave a damn before. Eamon drove home.
The next morning, Eamon walked into his office to find Martin waiting. “We’re almost there, Eamon. I have the names of the remaining shareholders with large blocks of Rainwhite’s stock.”
Eamon sat at his desk and looked at the list of names Martin presented. He rubbed his chin absently. “Any of them willing to give us their proxy?”
“A number of them actually. They’re not very happy with Wickerworld’s sickly returns.”
“I played Wickerworld this weekend. Damn shame. It just missed being great. Their game engine rocks, though. I want that mother. So, let’s see what these principals want, get their proxies and then we’ll see how much stock we have to pick up on the fly.” Eamon rolled his chair over to his laptop and turned it on. “Keep me informed.”
Eamon then turned his attention to acquiring a really nice gift for Sarah.
Eamon Sends a Gift
Sarah came back from lunch to find a single lavender water lily artfully arranged in a crystal bottle coaster on her desk. It was accompanied by a note written in old fashioned pen and ink. The handwriting was bold. “Saw this and thought of you. E.”
“It came a little while ago,” Jim said. “Someone must like you a lot. That’s a Versace bottle coaster. I think it’s the Arabesque pattern.”
“It’s beautiful,” Sarah said, although she wondered if it was the flower or the crystal that reminded Eamon of her.
“Can I ask who the admirer is?” Jim teased.
“Eamon Byrne.”
Jim became serious. “I don’t like that. There’s been a lot of traffic in Rainwhite Games’ stock this morning, a lot of traffic. Their stock usually remains pretty stable. It sounds like the initial move for a takeover.”
“I don’t…”
“Sarah, be careful. He’s a very charming guy. I’ve met him. He’s smart, he’s personable and from what I could tell, the ladies love him. But he’s very ambitious and he’s known for being ruthless.”
“I haven’t told him anything, Jim. I know better than that. He came to my concert and took me dancing, that’s all. We played a video ga
me he hadn’t seen yet, but we didn’t talk business.” Sarah took the beautiful flower and crystal and set them behind her on her credenza.
Jim patted her cheek once. “Hey kid, I’m not just worried about business. You take care.” He turned and went back into his office.
Sarah returned to her work, but Jim’s warning had taken some of the glow off the weekend. It hadn’t felt like she was being used. Eamon seemed genuinely happy to be with her. But Sarah had been fooled before. It was hard to trust your own instincts when they’d gone so far awry in the past.
Eamon called on Wednesday. “Hey Sarah, I wondered if you want to go out on Friday. I was thinking dinner and a movie or dinner and a piano bar. There’s singing if you like.”
Sarah was quiet for a long moment. “Food and singing sound like fun. What time should I be ready?”
“I’ll see you at seven, Sarah.”
“Okay.”
“’Okay then, goodbye.”
“’Bye.”
Sarah put down her cell phone. Why had she done that? Why had she agreed to see him? Maybe it was because he kissed her like he meant it, and he treated her so well or because he was so damned attractive.
Friday night, Sarah stood in front of her mirror and decided that she would do. She wore her little black sheath in silk crepe with three quarter length sleeves and a v-neck. A plain gold pin in the shape of a long slender leaf and plain gold earrings were her only jewelry. Black suede sling-back heels and dark hose finished the look. Her long hair was once again up in a Gibson girl knot.
When she opened the door, Eamon said, “Whoa! You look…spectacular.”
“It’s not too much?” Sarah asked.
“Nah, you look great.”
Eamon drove to the Plaza. Moments later they were seated in a great restaurant with an elegant jazz bar. After an excellent meal, Eamon said, “I promised you singing, but let’s dance for awhile before we go.”
“Sure,” Sarah told him.
Eamon pulled Sarah his arms on the dance floor and held her close. He put his lips to her ear and said, “I have to confess, I really wanted to hold you.”
Sarah leaned back so that she could see his face. “I like the way you hold me. I’d dance all night with you.”
Eamon pulled her closer. They danced, had a couple of drinks and then went down to a little place near Waldo. The bar itself was a neighborhood bar, small, and cozy. It was busy with people who lined up to sing with the piano player. Some were decent amateurs others were solid professionals. The place only got more crowded as the theaters closed and local actors and actresses dropped in as well.
Sarah sang a couple of Broadway tunes, Eamon sang If I Loved You from Carousel and High Flying Adored from Evita. Sarah obliged him by singing Evita’s part at the key change. They didn’t leave until closing time. By then, Sarah was tired and slightly intoxicated.
“Do you want to stop for something to eat?” Eamon asked her as they drove north on the interstate.
“Umm, no, thanks. I can make coffee at my place,” Sarah told him. Her head was beginning to ache from the weight of her hair. She removed the pins and shook it out. “Oh, much better,” she said. “I probably could even cook you an egg.”
Eamon realized that Sarah was buzzed. He listened while she talked happily about the piano bar and all the wonderful singers who had been there.
“And you have a great voice!” Sarah was pointing a rather wobbly finger at him. “Wow! You dance, you sing, you play video games…” Sarah giggled,”….and you make video games…” she giggled again. Then she smiled at him. “Baby, you are a Gamer Girl’s dream come true!”
Eamon held his laughter in check. “Why, thank you, Gamer Girl!”
Sarah’s smile grew even wider. “That’s right, I am a Gamer Girl. Proud of it!” Sarah took a deep, deep breath. “I had a great time.” Sarah leaned back against the car seat and closed her eyes. In less than a minute she was asleep, her head propped against the passenger window.
Eamon glanced over. He laughed and turned his attention back to the highway. He pulled up in front of her apartment complex. He opened her car door. Once he did, he shook her shoulder. “Sarah. Sarah, wake up. Come on Gamer Girl, wake up.”
Sarah opened her eyes. Eamon pulled her up and onto her feet. Thankfully, she was able to stand, albeit a little unsteadily. “Come on, give me your key.”
Sarah opened her little evening purse. He noted, to his delight that her house key was neatly safety pinned to her purse. He unpinned the key and opened the door to her apartment. Sarah turned to face him. “You want coffee, tea or me?”
“Tempting. Where’s your ibuprofen?”
“Umm, left kitchen cabinet.”
Eamon walked Sarah over to the cabinet, found the ibuprofen, and gave her three plus a large glass of water. “Take these, drink all the water,” he instructed. “Good. Now, go on and go to bed. I’ll lock up.”
Sarah was beginning to wake up a little. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?”
Eamon tipped her chin up, kissed her mouth and then her cheek. “I want to see you tomorrow, but you need to get some rest first. I’ll call you.” He kissed her once more and pointed her toward her bedroom. Sarah walked into her bedroom and shut the door.
Eamon listened for a moment but didn’t hear any crashing about, so he decided it was safe to leave. He left her key on the kitchen counter, locked up and went home.
Chapter 4
Sarah woke up the next morning lying on her bed, dressed only in her slip. She sat up and met her brain about halfway. The pain was intense. She walked out to the kitchen to find a full glass of water and ibuprofen placed next to her key. Sarah vaguely remembered Eamon saying goodnight. She also vaguely remembered being an idiot. Downing the ibuprofen with a long drink of water, she headed for the shower. Sarah remained in the shower washing her hair and standing in the spray until the hot water ran out. She brushed her teeth, combed her wet hair and was on her way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
“Who is it?”
“Eamon, Sarah. I brought McDonalds.”
Sarah opened the door to find Eamon dressed in jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, a very expensive leather jacket, and boots. He had two large McDonald’s bags in his hands. It occurred to Sarah that Eamon could have made a hell of a male model. She would certainly buy whatever he had to sell.
Eamon’s smile widened. “What a pretty woman: freshly scrubbed, no make-up, and very delectable,” he observed.
Sarah cheeks grew pink at his compliment. She stepped back to let him in. “Thanks. You have impeccable timing. I was just about to fix something to eat.”
Eamon carried the food to her table. In addition to Egg McMuffins and Oatmeal, he’d brought coffee, milk and orange juice. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want protein or carbs, so I got both.” He pulled the food out of the bags and sat down.
Sarah took coffee, milk, juice and an Egg McMuffin. “Thank you. This is a welcome treat.” Sarah caught his eye. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you last night. I shouldn’t have had that last drink.”
“You were fine. A little tipsy. Nothing to worry about.” Eamon took a bite of his McMuffin and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So, Sarah, when is the last time you tied one on?”
Sarah clapped a hand over her eyes, shrugged and said, “New Year’s Eve two years ago. It was not pretty. You would think I would learn.”
Eamon laughed. “Well you did nothing to worry about last night. But that’s not why I came over unannounced. I thought you might like to go take in some Kansas City sights. Maybe the Nelson or the Steamboat Arabia, or Powell Gardens.”
“Have you ever been to see the Vaile Mansion, the Bingham-Waggoner estate and the Independence Jail where Frank James was incarcerated?” Sarah asked.
“No, and I thought I’d seen every historic building in the greater metro area.”
Sarah put her hands on her hips and said, “Well then, let me show you Independence, Missouri. I
took a class on Kansas City History for fun and we spent an entire day in Independence.”
“Okay.” Eamon jumped up and cleared the table. Sarah wiped everything down and went to dress. It took some time to dry her hair.
When she came back out, Eamon was playing Wickerworld again, though he put it aside as soon as she appeared. Eamon studied Sarah admiringly. “Sarah you definitely know how to fill out a pair of jeans.”
Sarah looked down at her simple merino wool sweater, skinny jeans, and slouchy boots. With a toss of her head she did a slow pirouette.
“Wow!” Eamon gave her a kiss and then picked up her jacket and held it out for her. In a moment, they were on their way to Independence.
Eamon and Sarah bought the discount ticket for all three historic sites. They toured the Vaile first, then the Bingham-Waggoner. The two historic houses could not be more different. The Vaile was a magnificent house, a rich house, but it was also a sad and lonely house with a sad history. The Bingham-Waggoner was large but not as grand as the Vaile. It, however, was a home with one hundred years of family history held in its walls.
When they’d finished touring the two homes, Sarah asked, “So, which place did you like the best?”
“The Bingham-Waggoner,” Eamon said at once. “It was a home and not just a house.” Sarah’s smile told him everything he needed to know about why she’d asked. “So it is your favorite too!”
“Yes,” Sarah told him as they drove back to the square in downtown Independence. “I always feel a loss in the Vaile. So sad, so lonely. But the Bingham…say, would you prefer to eat German or upscale at Ophelia’s?”
“German sounds good. They have good German beer, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do. And they make a delicious Sauerbraten as well. The Rheinland it is then,” Sarah said.
They went to lunch. Sarah ordered the Sauerbraten and even had a dark beer with it. After lunch, they went to see the Independence Jail and the cell Frank James inhabited during his stay there.
“You know, some of the bloodiest, most bitter battles were fought here during the Civil War. Kansas was Union and we were Confederate for the most part,” Eamon said.
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