father did two years of college, but never had the life he’d hoped for. He wanted to be a chemist, but he ended up settling for a job as a salesman for a pharmaceutical company. My mother had two more children, both girls, and then she and my dad divorced. My mother worked for years as a legal secretary, which she hated. Most of the people I grew up with came from similar backgrounds. No grand passionate love affairs that lasted past the seven-year itch.”
“Wow. It makes sense that you’ve focused on your career.”
“Yes, I suppose it does. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I take a great deal of pride in my accomplishments. I’ve already got a nice portfolio started, and by the time I’m through, I expect to be very comfortable.”
He leaned forward in his chair, which made her aware of her own body; leaning back, crossed arms, crossed legs. She made an effort to loosen up, but the best she could do was hold on to her cup of coffee.
“All on your own, right?” he asked.
“Exactly. I learned very early on that there isn’t a knight in shining armor out there waiting to rescue me. If I want security, I’ll have to earn it myself.”
“That’s wise.”
“You agree?”
He spread his hands. “With the knight theory? Yeah, I do. I don’t think it’s good for anyone to wait to be rescued. It puts too much pressure on the rescuer. It can only lead to disappointment.”
“But isn’t that what you’re hoping to do?”
“No, not at all. I expect the right woman for me will have found what makes her whole and happy. I want to share in that, just as I hope she’ll share in my life.”
“Don’t you read? The statistics alone tell you that you’re dreaming.”
He frowned. “God, I hope not.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rain on your whatever. My experience has clearly been different than yours. You’ll probably find just what you’re looking for.”
“I’m going to try,” he said.
“Your parents, what do they think of this research project of yours?”
“My father died two years ago, but my mother thinks I’m nuts.”
She smiled. “That’s got to be hard about your dad. It sounds like you two were close.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure he would have shared my mother’s sentiments, but he would never have discouraged me. Mom, either. They believe in life by trial and error.”
“So far, you seem to have done well.”
He smiled. “No complaints. I’m about as happy as a man has a right to be.”
“The statistics on that are pretty daunting, too.”
He got a piece of bacon from his plate, ate it slowly. “I wonder why that is,” he said. “So much angst. It never made sense to me.”
“Speaking of angst, I’d better get my act in gear. We have to be at the shoot in less than an hour.”
“Don’t want any more breakfast?”
“Yes, but I’d better not. It was great. Thank you.”
He smiled before he sipped some coffee. She gathered her things and headed for the shower, wondering if she had left because of the time or the conversation.
As soon as she was naked, her thoughts went to last night. The strength of her want of him. Breakfast had been terrific, but not filled with that same lust, although she still found him completely yummy. This was different. She’d never experienced this kind of balance before. Her past flings, and she knew that’s all they were, had been like Roman candles. Brilliant flame, but short-lived. She’d felt that same intensity last night, but now the fire was banked, smoldering, while her focus had been on the conversation.
She climbed in the shower and began her regimen, all the while chewing on the situation.
DAN FOUND HIMSELF a director’s chair and settled in for a long day. They had set up camp in a relatively quiet section of Grand Central Station, cordoned off from the public. The photographer was some big shot with a bunch of major campaigns under his belt, and the models were in the super category, including Sheree O’Brien and Shawn Foote.
It was interesting watching Marla around Shawn. She was clearly smitten, and he seemed interested right back. Surprisingly, Dan was worried for her. Even though he was staunchly in favor of tasting all that life had to offer, he liked Marla and didn’t want to see her get hurt. Although he wasn’t acquainted with Shawn, he had known some male models and actors, and those hadn’t exactly been the brightest or the kindest people he’d ever met. Mostly, they’d been so obsessed with themselves, there was no room for anyone else in their lives. But, he’d give Shawn the benefit of the doubt. For now.
His gaze shifted to Jessica as she spoke with the photographer. Owen hovered, but so far he hadn’t been a real pest. Jessica was in her glory, planning, arranging, making things happen. He liked watching her work. She wore her confidence like a comfortable sweater, and it made her even more beautiful. Today she had on pants, khaki colored, with a cream top and a matching jacket. The outfit would have looked plain on another woman, but it made her hair a more vivid auburn, and it complemented her skin.
He kept wanting to touch her. On the way down to the taxi he’d put his hand on the small of her back. She’d reacted with a little twitch, which was interesting, but her blush was more telling.
There was definitely something between them, the attraction wasn’t one-sided. He saw a lot of the signs, the fidgeting with the hair, the sideways glances, those telltale blushes. Tonight, if they finished the shoot at a reasonable hour, they would have the evening free. He was going to take her to dinner, and he felt certain that he could steer the conversation into one of two directions. He could keep it intellectual, or he could just as easily swing it to the hot and heavy. Given free rein with the questions made either option viable. Of course, what he should do is stick to the plan. But the plan hadn’t taken into account how much he wanted her.
“Do you mind?”
He looked up at the voice, startled. Standing close to his left was Sheree herself. She was dressed in a large, white, man’s shirt with bicycle shorts peeking from the bottom. Her shoes were slip-ons, the better to change into whatever wardrobe they had planned for her.
Her hair was up in very large curlers, which didn’t distract in the least from her astonishing good looks. Naturally, her makeup was heavy, but still, he could see the perfection of her face, the pure symmetry that was so prized. Her smile, however, suggested that her want of a seat wasn’t just about available chairs. There was an invitation there, or at the very least a question.
He stood and held the back of the second director’s chair. “Please, sit.”
She did, and her smile broadened. “I’m Sheree.”
“Dan Crawford.”
“I saw you last night,” she said. “But I didn’t have a minute to come over and introduce myself.”
“I’m sorry for that, but pleased you have some time today.”
“God, I’ll have gobs of time. I have four changes, and no one can decide where to start. It’s always like this. They should just shut up and let the chick call the shots.”
“You mean Jessica?”
“Yeah. At least she’s got a plan. But everyone wants to be the boss.”
“I suppose so.”
“What’s your role in all this?”
He nodded at Jessica, who had turned to watch him and his new friend. “I’m with the chick.”
“Oh.” Sheree studied Jessica for a long moment. “You two serious?”
“Yeah, pretty serious.”
She turned back to him. “You fool around?”
He laughed. “Thank you, but no. I don’t.”
She shook her head, then lifted her hand to examine her nails. “Bummer.”
He laughed again, but his attention was on Jessica. She wasn’t looking happy. Just then, Owen came up behind her, and even from Dan’s seat he could see the hand inching around her waist.
