She didn’t know what to say to that, either, but why not? Anything that kept her mind off a certain long-haired rocker had to be a good idea. Ted placed their glasses onto a side table and whisked her onto the parquet dance floor with fluid grace.
There, he proceeded to lead her around the floor as if conducting a symphony with her. She could barely keep up and began to feel every inch of her four-inch heels. Did the man ever stumble or stub his toe? She’d never met anyone more perfect.
While they danced, they discussed D.C., including its problems, and politics. He discussed race like a textbook, not taking any sides. It was a far cry from arguing about the rebel flag in the middle of a Georgia swamp. Much more civilized. And sensible.
He was exactly the kind of man she needed. He could catapult her career to the stars and help her take care of her aging parents. Which was why, when he asked her out to dinner, she accepted.
There was just one problem. He wasn’t Rodney.
When an elderly gentleman claimed his attention, she took her exit. After freshening up in the bathroom, she headed back toward her co-workers. Even though she’d been here only a couple of hours, it already felt like a really long night. She just wanted to say her goodbyes, go home, snuggle into her jammies, and process everything.
Barry beamed at her. “I saw you dancing with Senator Parmley. Way to network with the bigwigs.”
“He seems taken with you,” his wife chimed in.
“Do I smell romance in the air?” her boss asked.
Dee decided not to tell him about the dinner invitation and definitely not about the bigger invite—to run for office. She’d already made her mind up not to take it seriously, anyway.
His wife swatted his arm. “Don’t embarrass her, honey.”
“Sorry. So, Dee, how would you like to go to California?”
“Excuse me?” she asked for the second time.
Breeze was playing out there. Therefore, she planned on keeping her butt firmly rooted on the East Coast.
“I just met some folks who work for a software company headquartered in San Jose. Racism lives in Silicon Valley, too. Can you believe it?”
She reminded herself she was trying to make partner, which meant she needed to be open to extra work and business travel.
“You got a new client?” she asked. “That’s great.”
He beamed. “They’re as good as signed. Your experience with the cases of local software companies makes you a perfect fit.”
Handling a distant client herself would be a step up for her.
“I’m definitely up for it,” she said.
“Excellent. I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting tomorrow.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading home. Got to rest up for that meeting.”
She needed to get away from the excitement and champagne because despite everything that had happened tonight, she couldn’t think about anything except flying to California. Straight into Rodney’s arms.
Okay, maybe not, but what would it hurt to attend a concert? During the last one, she’d been too busy trying to stay alive to enjoy the show. She needed to see him one last time before deciding how serious to get with Ted. Because she had a feeling Ted Parmley went after what he wanted, and, if he wanted her, things would get serious fast.
One concert. From the stage, she’d merely be a little dot in a crowd of thousands. Rodney wouldn’t even know she was there.
* * *
A few days later, Rodney took his final bow onstage at San Jose. Yesterday, they’d torn it up in Los Angeles. While Silicon Valley wasn’t quite as big a crowd, they still gave the band lots of love. Tomorrow night, they’d play in Seattle.
The breakneck schedule Jack had set up for them didn’t give him any time to rest. It didn’t give him much time to think about Dee, either. Still, images of her long legs—slick and wet—hooked over his shoulders still haunted him in quiet moments.
And her sweet taste. Damn, he’d never forget it.
When one of the backup singers swished the Confederate flag around as part of their finale, he grinned because even that reminded him of Dee. No two people in the world had probably ever had such long discussions over a piece of red cloth. He saw it differently now because of her.
Hell, he saw a lot of things differently. For instance, how he’d rather be sitting with her in his bass boat slapping mosquitoes instead of standing up here being worshipped like a king.
After a couple of standing ovations, the band finally pranced backstage. As usual, Jack headed straight to the liquor, which always seemed to be as handy as the musical instruments. Rodney opted for a bottle of water instead.
“Get me the two blondes in the front row,” Jack told one of the security guys.
Linda’s face tightened while she folded and packed up the flag, but she didn’t say anything.
“Two women at once?” Rodney asked his brother in a low voice. “Man, don’t you have any respect for your wife?”
Jack rubbed his moustache and looked thoughtful. “A threesome isn’t a bad idea, but that’s not what I had in mind. One’s for you.”
“No thanks,” Rodney said, raising his hand, as if to push away the whole sordid mess. “I’m tired of cheap sex.”
Then why had he made Dee a one-day stand when they both wanted more?
Jack pointed at the bottle of bourbon he’d just opened. “You’re not drinking, either. What’s wrong with you? Don’t answer that. I already know, and some blonde pussy is exactly what you need to forget Aunt Jemima.”
Rodney lifted his fist. “I told you not to call her that.”
He was ready to make his exit when security escorted in two blondes in skimpy halters and shorts. Hell, they didn’t even look eighteen. He hadn’t noticed them in the first row. Instead, he’d
