She looked down at her tightly clasped hands, wondering what happened to that speech she’d spent two hours rehearsing. Not a speech, really, just a few sentences. She figured she couldn’t handle much more.
“Take Horn’s offer,” Eric said, covering both her hands with one of his. “And you won’t have to do any more of those windows or dress like that again. You’re better than that, Dallas.”
She stiffened, and he leaned forward to lightly kiss her lips. She let him, even though she didn’t appreciate what he’d said. After he sat back again, she bit her lip and stared down at her lap. If she looked him in the eyes, she’d get all jumbled up.
“Dallas?”
She looked up into his anxious eyes and swallowed. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me again. Please.”
He smiled and, leaning toward her, cupped the back of her neck. Their lips met, and she put more enthusiasm into this kiss—enough that his ardent response made her a little dizzy. Made her chicken. But she had no choice. No more fantasy life. This was the end of the line.
She wasn’t sure who broke the kiss. They both kind of leaned back at the same time and looked at each other. The only other two sitting at the bar, on the opposite end, let out a howl. Apparently one of the baseball teams had scored. Dallas glanced up at the screen and saw that the game had ended.
“You’re not going to accept Horn’s offer,” he said in a flat voice.
Her gaze went to him. He didn’t look happy. “I’m sorry if that screws you up.”
“Are you going to tell me why you won’t consider it?”
“I did consider it and I’ve decided it’s not the right path for me to take.”
“Maybe we should discuss this further. I don’t think you realize what kind of opportunity this is. Horn is very influential in the business community. He has deep pockets and he loves to spend money on advertising.”
“Look, Eric, I do understand and I’m flattered that you both want me for this position, but I already have a job, and—”
“I told you that working around your schedule is no problem.”
She smiled sadly and then looked away. “I don’t exactly have the kind of image Horn wants.”
“Are you kidding? You’re perfect.”
Oh, God, this was so hard. “You know how I was dressed earlier?”
He nodded and then laughed, shook his head.
“That wasn’t about a window display. That’s me. The real me.”
“What are you talking about?”
She swallowed. “I had just gotten off work when you saw me.”
“No, you were going to work. You did a window display tonight.”
“Yes, but that was a favor for a friend. I believe I’d told you I haven’t been in modeling for a while now.” She hated watching the confusion draw his face into a frown. Hated knowing she was about to end the fantasy forever.
Her stomach was in one big knot, and she swore she was going to be sick if she didn’t hurry and get this over with. But all the carefully chosen words she’d practiced wouldn’t come to mind. And every bit of it was her fault. She should have told him the moment he’d made the offer. Before he’d seen her dressed in dirty overalls, carrying that stupid Aladdin lunch pail. God, if she could only start over…
Eric could see something was wrong. Seriously wrong. She could have blindfolded him to keep from seeing the anguish on her face and he would know just by the tension cramping the muscles in his shoulders and the back of his neck.
He silently cleared his throat and reached for her hand. It was cold and she immediately drew back. “Dallas, you’re obviously upset. Whatever’s wrong, I’m sure we can fix it.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a matter of fixing it. I’m not a model. I don’t have a glamorous job. I’m a construction worker. Garden variety. That’s it.”
“What?” He started to laugh, until he saw that she was serious. “But you have a graduate degree.”
“Yes,” she said flatly.
He stared, waiting, expecting this to be part of the joke. “You’re serious,” he said finally.
Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I wouldn’t make up something like this.”
“Why?”
“Why have I chosen to work in construction?”
He nodded, not knowing what to say yet juggling a dozen questions in his mind. Hard to reconcile the gorgeous woman sitting in front of him with the one he saw on the street earlier.
“It started out as an accident. After I quit modeling, I signed up with a temporary agency and they sent me on a laborer’s job. I have to admit I was somewhat appalled at first, but it was kind of kicky, you know? Doing something so incredibly different. And the pay sure beat typing or answering phones or filling a clerical position.”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “And your parents hated it.”
Sighing, she briefly looked down at her hands. “Childish, I know.”
He took a sip of his scotch, letting silence stretch, trying to figure out where this left them. Personally nothing had to change. After all, what did they have besides sex?
At that undeniable truth, anger gripped him. Anger at her for not being honest with him. Anger with himself for caring.
God, what a mess. He had to hold it together, though. He still had Horn’s account to worry about.
“Okay,” he said finally, his mind starting to clear. “Frankly I don’t see a problem. Horn’s offer will mean a lot more money, and you’ve already had your juvenile fling.”
Flinching, she looked at him with such a wounded expression, he immediately regretted his words.
“Look, I didn’t mean to sound snide.” He pushed a hand through his hair, glanced around for the bartender, but then quickly decided another drink might not be wise. “Let’s start over.” He smiled.
Dallas didn’t. She sighed and shook her head. “Let’s save us both the grief. There’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind. I can’t accept Horn’s offer.”
“Because of me?”
She laughed softly. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“Why then?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I have time.”
She picked up her club soda and took a thoughtful sip. “I have a question.” Avoiding his intense gaze, she paused to put down the glass. And then she looked him directly in the eyes. “Does this change anything between us?”
He cleared his throat, tried to maintain eye contact but ended up briefly looking away. “What do you mean?”
A sad smile slowly curved the corners of her mouth. “That’s what I thought.”
“Hey—”
She pulled some money out of her purse, laid it on the bar and slid off the stool.
“Dallas, wait, you didn’t let me finish.”
“Good luck with Horn’s account, Eric. I mean it.” She leaned over to kiss him briefly on the cheek and then she left.
18
“YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR MIND.” Wendy set down an unopened box of Kleenex on the floor near the pink fuzzy house slippers Dallas was wearing. “How could you turn down a job like that?”
Dallas sniffed, huddled deeper into the beanbag chair, pointed the remote at the television and turned up the volume. As if she didn’t already know every word to Pretty Woman. Better than listening to her annoying roommate tell her what a schmuck she was.
Wendy handed her a mug of steaming chamomile tea and grabbed the remote. “Not that I don’t admire your loyalty, but you’ll probably end up getting fired over this insane crusade and then where will you be?”
“Thank you for your support.”
“Hey, kiddo…”
At the sympathy in Wendy’s voice, Dallas looked grudgingly at her. Contrary to what Wendy thought, Dallas wasn’t crying. In fact, she hadn’t shed a single tear. She had got what she wanted out of the fantasy. One week of bliss. The best sex she’d ever had. Now it was over. She w
as a big girl. She could accept that and move on.
Wendy sighed and curled up on the love seat with her own cup of tea. “I’m on your side, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t tell you that I think you’re making a colossal mistake?”
“Okay, you’ve told me. Thank you. Now, may I please watch this movie in peace?”
“Have you discussed this with Trudie?”
Dallas groaned. “Am I not speaking clearly enough?”
“I bet she thinks you’re crazy, too. Those women will be fine. Loyalty has to have a limit. Think about yourself for a change.”
Dallas cursed—something she rarely did—tightened the belt to her white terry robe and struggled to her feet. She couldn’t listen to Wendy another minute. Sitting alone in her bedroom without a television was better than having the big, fat mess that was her life rubbed in her face.
At the last moment she remembered the small box of Godiva truffles she’d splurged on after knocking off work and scooped it up before plodding down the short hall to her room. Wendy made a comment about Dallas stuffing her face with chocolate not being the solution right before she closed the bedroom door with a deliberate click. Forget about it. She didn’t understand. Nobody did.
Even with the air conditioner on, her room was warm and sticky, and she threw off her robe. After carelessly shoving her quilt to the foot of the bed, she stretched out in her bra and panties and stared at the ceiling. Almost as if it magnetically drew her, her gaze went to her cell phone. The message light blinked.
Knowing it was Eric, she forced her gaze away. He’d called three times since last night. She hadn’t picked up once. She didn’t have anything to say. Anything he wanted to hear, anyway. It was over. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d asked if anything had changed between them. He hadn’t needed to say a word after that.
She didn’t blame him. In his business, they called what she’d done “false advertising.” She’d worn the pretty clothes, the makeup, the whole thing. She’d become exactly the type of woman he wanted. But that wasn’t her. Maybe once. Not now. Not for a long time.
Of course, she’d never expected things to go this far. The fantasy was supposed to have been for one night. And then it had stretched into two, and before she knew it, she’d spent over a week with him. He’d even met her parents.
Oh, God. She covered her face and groaned.
What the hell had she been thinking?
It all seemed so complicated. Maybe she needed to see a shrink. Seriously. Because she could deny it all she wanted, but there was still that part of her that wanted to wear the makeup and the dresses and snatch that incredible contract that would put her right back in the game. That didn’t put her in the same category as Wendy. Dallas hadn’t chased the elusive dream. It had fallen in her lap.
And then there was Eric. She liked him. Really liked him, damn it. Not because of the sex, which was beyond totally awesome. He made her laugh and he’d been a good sport about meeting her family. A lot of guys would have stopped at the sex part. Told her she was crazy for even suggesting dinner with the folks.
Her cell phone rang, startling her, and she bolted up and almost automatically grabbed it. Instead she peered at the caller ID. It was Trudie. Absurdly disappointed, she lay back down. It wasn’t as if she wanted to talk to Eric or even wanted him to call again. In fact, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even Trudie.
All she wanted to do was wallow in self-pity for a while. Lick her wounds in private. Be alone with her scary thoughts. And wish she’d never met Horn. Or Eric Harmon.
ERIC SAT AT HIS DESK, STARING at his phone. Three days, and she hadn’t called. Not once. Hadn’t returned his messages. Not even to tell him to go to hell. This was starting to get to him. He wasn’t the one who’d orchestrated the charade.
And contrary to what she assumed, he didn’t care what she did for a living. He’d been surprised. Okay, shocked. And then confused and hurt. Yeah, they hadn’t known each other long, but why couldn’t she have told him? Why the big secret?
Granted, he might have been a little turned off if he’d found out when he’d first met her. Curious, certainly, but not seriously interested.
Tom stopped at his office door, glanced over his shoulder and said, “Webber’s on the warpath. Horn just called him and wants to know why you’re avoiding him.”
“Hell, I’m not avoiding him. I told him I didn’t have an answer yet.”
“Just wanted to give you a heads-up, buddy.” Tom slid another look down the hall before frowning at Eric. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look so good.”
“Yeah.” Eric scrubbed his face, exhaled slowly. He hadn’t slept worth a damn the past two nights. His thoughts were never far from Dallas. How could she possibly prefer her construction job to the opportunity Horn offered? Maybe she simply didn’t understand the magnitude of Horn’s offer.
If she invested wisely, after her three-year contract expired, she wouldn’t have to work for a while. Take time off to figure out what she wanted to do, start her own business, do whatever… So many options would be available to her if she’d only call him back.
“You wanna go to lunch?” Tom studied him with genuine concern. “Might be a good time to get out of here and clear your head before the old man calls you in.”
“No, thanks.” He got up, grabbed his suit jacket off his credenza.
Tom looked confused, his gaze following Eric’s movements as he shrugged on the jacket. “Am I missing something?”
“I need to run an errand.”
“Want company?”
Eric shook his head.
“Anything I can do?”
Eric paused. “Stall Horn. Get him off my back. Tell him I’ll have a final answer for him by tomorrow.”
“Will you?”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
ERIC LEFT TRUDIE’S OFFICE feeling less optimistic than when he’d gone in. Just locating her had been a feat in itself. He’d started with the human resource department, who’d claimed no knowledge of Dallas. Nor had customer service. And not the security officer, who, he was pretty sure, had thought Eric was a stalker. By the time he’d gotten a lead on Trudie and convinced her to talk to him, he’d almost given up.
Might as well have done just that. The problem was bigger than he’d thought, and he had no idea how to fix it.
At the intersection he glanced at his watch. Too early to go to Pete’s for a drink, which he certainly didn’t need anyway, considering the obstacle he faced. But he didn’t want to go back to the office, either. Not until he had a chance to think this through.
He headed down Lexington in the direction of his apartment. Normally he’d take a cab, but he figured the walk might help clear his head. Damn it. Any other reason Dallas had for turning down the offer he could poke holes in. But loyalty? He didn’t have a chance. Not with this woman.
He smiled at the irony of the situation. Hell, the whole mess was one big irony. The very thing he admired her for doing was going to screw him to the wall. And then there was Capshaw’s Construction—biggest outfit in the tristate area and the company who’d built most of Horn’s malls. They had her, and Horn wanted her. If Eric could only figure out a way for her to keep her promise to her friends and still accept Horn’s contract. Keep her from letting her career go down the damn tubes.
As much as he admired and respected her loyalty, it wasn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. The union wouldn’t help, and Capshaw’s was too big a company to worry about a handful of disgruntled employees. Yeah, they’d make nice, say all the right things because they were obligated to legally, but when it came down to it, on the job, the men wouldn’t be admonished for their behavior if it cost production time.
Eric had seen those scenarios back in Pittsburgh. It had always bothered him when his father used to defend these guys—good old boys.
Damn, what the hell was he going to do? He had
to think, slow down his spinning thoughts, or he’d be useless. At an intersection he almost stepped off the curb too soon and got plowed down by a green Honda.
This wasn’t just about her job. Or his, for that matter. This was about them. It was soon, their relationship was only budding, but he knew there was something there, something they could build on if they both didn’t get too prideful or stupid.
He glanced at his watch. Maybe he should catch a cab the rest of the way. He didn’t have a lot of time. As helpful as Trudie had been, she still wouldn’t give him information on how to reach Dallas. But Trudie had given him a lead. Dallas would be in the display window tomorrow night. So whatever he came up with, it had better be quick.
DALLAS POSITIONED HERSELF IN the window at the white vanity table that had been preset for the bedroom scene. She was going to kill Trudie. No wonder the coward had had her assistant meet Dallas with wardrobe and instructions. A red negligee. What the hell was she thinking?
Of course, it wasn’t too revealing, thanks to flesh-colored tape. They had to keep the window PG rated, after all, but still… What if Eric were to come by again?
The unnerving thought had her furtively scanning the growing crowd. Hell, he probably didn’t want to see her, either. The calls had already stopped. She hadn’t had a message or even a missed call from him since last night. He sure had given up easily. Even though it wasn’t a surprise, it still disappointed her. More than that, depressed her. What a week they’d had. She’d had such hopes….
She couldn’t think about him. If she did, her face would show too much expression and movement, and the scene would be ruined. As much as Trudie was going to hear about this particular getup, Dallas didn’t want to spoil her high. The windows apparently had been wildly successful resulting in skyrocketing sales, and her boss had given her a promotion and raise. In fact, he was so pleased, he wanted them to continue. Trudie had the idea of a continuing-soap-opera theme and wanted Dallas to consider working for her part-time.
What a joke. Of course, she may need the money after she got fired from Capshaw’s Construction.
A Glimpse of Fire Page 18