was meddling in
“You just got to town. You don’t know how tough it is.”
“I have a better idea after this afternoon.”
Zach made a low sound of sympathy. “No nibbles?”
“I’m not sure there was fish in the river. I heard stories about the number of qualified applicants. And I don’t think they were particularly impressed when I told them this was my first trip to New York.”
“It’s not easy.” Zach rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Have you called any of the people I gave you?”
“I did, after I came back to the hotel. Nobody’s hiring right now. I could fill out an application, take an editing test, but they warned me it could be months before anything opens up.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah. But don’t give up.”
“Are you kidding? It’s only my first day of interviews. I’m not even close to giving up. Sure, I would have loved to get a job right away, but that’s not the real world.” She glanced at him. “I kept my eyes open, and you’re right. Lots of people dress in black.”
“Want to go back to the resale shop tomorrow and buy that little suit in the window?”
“Not yet. I like to think I might bring a new perspective, and if I dress like everyone else, they won’t see that.” She could feel his hesitation. “You don’t agree with that, do you.”
“I can’t decide if I should encourage you to blend in, or if I should jump outside the box with you.”
As the implication of that settled over her, she had serious reservations about her influence on him. Last night she’d blithely told him to quit his job if he didn’t like it. What if he took her advice and ended up in financial trouble? She’d be responsible.
She waited until they were seated at the Italian restaurant he’d picked for tonight and each of them had a glass of Chianti. “Remember when I said that you shouldn’t work for a guy like Medford anymore?”
“I remember, and I’ve been giving it more thought.”
“Don’t.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Why not? He hasn’t reformed in the past twenty-four hours. He might even be worse. Every time he walks past Ed’s cubby in the outer office, he makes a sarcastic remark.”
“Maybe Ed needs to take care of that. Hitting the pavement this afternoon gave me a dose of reality. I still expect to get hired, and I hope on my terms. But you have a job, and you should look around a little, put out some feelers, before you jump ship.”
He gazed at her over the rim of his wineglass, a tender smile warming his expression. “I’ll take that under advisement. But for now, let’s drink to your success.”
“I’d like that.” As their glasses touched, she couldn’t find it in her heart to be angry with Mario. Without his meddling, she’d have no one to share her job search…or her roomy suite.
She’d created quite a welcome for Zach-the radio tuned to a jazz station with the volume down low, dabs of perfume on the lightbulbs and sprinkled on the sheets, her black nightie laid across the foot of the bed and two condoms on the pillow. She could hardly wait for him to see it.
HE WOULDN’T SLEEP WITH HER. About the time the waiter brought the dessert tray and they each decided against having any, Zach made a similar decision about having sex with Hannah. And he’d even brought condoms because he’d thought he might get an invitation to her room tonight.
The truth was, he plain didn’t deserve it. Here she was struggling to establish herself, and he wasn’t man enough to talk with Ed and get her the contact that would make all the difference. He must have subconsciously hoped she’d find a job this afternoon on her own.
But she hadn’t, and Zach had a bad feeling that she wouldn’t find one easily. How long before her sunny outlook dimmed and she decided to head back to Arizona? Zach could change all that. Ed’s client would be perfect-a vice president at a major company that edited a huge fiction list.
Zach even knew that Ed would be happy to help. He was that kind of guy. But Zach’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to ask for that help unless it included standing up to Medford on Ed’s behalf, and that would cause a showdown. Most people didn’t survive a showdown with Medford.
Then Zach might be the one pounding the pavement, and most likely without a glowing reference in his pocket. He thought about the years he’d spent getting a foothold here, the clients he’d have to leave and the very real possibility that he’d end up like his buddy, forced to go back to his old hometown.
Besides all that, what kind of relationship could he expect with Hannah if he was out of work? She might not be money-conscious like Adrienne, but he didn’t relish the idea of trying to keep a romance going while he scrambled to make ends meet. He had some savings, but not enough to last very long.
So unless he was prepared to be her knight in shining armor, unless he was willing to leave his job and take the consequences of that, he had no right to climb into her bed. From the way she was looking at him, she expected to end the night that way. She wouldn’t have bought the negligee and mentioned the amenities of her new room if she didn’t expect that.
Oh, God, how he wanted to. All through the meal he’d watched her with lust burning in his veins. He longed to comb his hands through her hair and kiss that beautiful mouth until they were both panting. He’d tried not to spend too much time focusing on the way her delicate turquoise-and-silver necklace dipped into her cleavage.
Maybe she intended for him to focus his attention there. She’d toyed with the necklace a few times, and he thought that might be deliberate. She was definitely flirting with him in other ways, too. Her laughter bubbled like champagne, and she found reasons to reach across the table and lightly touch his hand. Then there were the coy looks and the veiled sexual references.
He’d loved every minute of it. And hated that the evening wouldn’t go the way it should go. Mario had no idea what a pickle he’d put him in. Zach had no intention of telling him, either.
As they left the restaurant, Hannah took his hand. “Are you going to teach me how to whistle?”
“Sure.” That much he could do. They were approaching a vacant bus-stop bench. “Come over here and sit down. I can’t teach you while we’re walking.” And after he finished giving whistling instructions, he’d tell her, as gently as he could, that they wouldn’t be spending the night together.
He wasn’t sure yet how to say it so that she wouldn’t feel rejected. Giving her the real reason wouldn’t work. She’d already told him he should hang on to his job, so she’d refuse to let him jeopardize it for her. He didn’t think she’d understand that he couldn’t take her to bed without making that sacrifice. Women thought differently about such things.
They settled on the hard bench and he turned to face her so that their knees were touching. “To start with, you might have to use your fingers. That’s how I learned.”
“How old were you?”
“About ten.”
“Nah. As long as you have a mouth, teeth and a tongue, you can learn.”
“I have all those things.”
Did she ever. He wondered if he’d be able to do this without kissing her and putting those components to a different use. “Okay, stick a finger in each corner of your mouth like this.”
She mimicked him.
It was so cute that he wanted to grab her right then and there. Somehow he restrained himself. “Then put your tongue behind your top teeth, like this.”
Nodding, she followed his lead.
“Now blow out.” He whistled softly through his teeth. He didn’t want either a cab or a passing woman to get the wrong idea.
She produced a little wheezing sound, but it wasn’t a whistle. “Rats. I’ll never catch a cab with that lame tootle.”
He steeled himself against the urge to kiss that adorable, nonwhistling mouth. “No, but that’s the idea. Just work with it. I had to practice quite a while before I made a real whistle.”
She tried again, and a little tweet came out. “There!” She beamed at him. “Now,
He should follow through with his plan and tell her now that when they got to the hotel, he’d be saying good-
