by Zuri Day
Cara drew in a breath. “Sure.”
“You okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“You have this faraway look in your eyes.”
“Oh, just thinking about work.”
Stella stared at her friend. “You sure it’s not Mitch Davis that’s on your mind?”
Cara’s focused jumped to Stella. “No, of course not.”
“Hmm, if you say so. But if you ask me, I know he has a thing for you.”
Her stomach fluttered. “Why would you keep saying that?”
“I see how he looks at you every chance he gets. That’s not the look of a man who is only interested in real estate.”
Cara straightened her shoulders. “As usual you’re reading too much into things.”
“We’ll see.” She got up. “Be back for you shortly.”
Cara’s portion of the interview took about forty-five minutes to complete. It took all of her willpower to focus on the questions she was being asked and not the fact that Mitch was mere feet away watching her every move, taking in everything that she said. By the time the interview was over she was beyond relieved. She could finally take a real breath.
“That’s a wrap, everyone,” Stella called out. She went over to talk with Mitch.
Cara gathered her things. She needed to get outside. The close proximity to Mitch was making her dizzy. She went in search of the production assistant who had taken her coat.
As she was putting on her coat she felt a presence behind her that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck tingle. Hands were on her shoulders, adjusting her coat on her body.
“So, what did you think?” the husky voice asked.
For an instant she shut her eyes and relished in the feel of the heat from his fingertips that penetrated to the marrow of her bones. Slowly, she turned around. There was barely any air between them. She was forced to look up. The connection was so intense it forced her to focus on the buttons of her coat instead of his amazing eyes.
“I think it went great.” She swallowed and fumbled with her buttons.
Mitch took a step back. “You’re a natural.”
She laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“When will you let me fix a meal for you . . . I mean, when will you be coming back to the restaurant? I’ll prepare something special.”
“I hadn’t thought about it. I rarely get a chance to go out. Busy.”
“Right. I understand.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be giving you a call. About business.”
“Great.” She tugged on her coat. “Take care.” She walked around him and toward the door, stopping briefly to say good-bye to Stella.
Once outside she realized that she was shaking all over and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air.
Chapter 4
Mitch couldn’t get Cara out of his head. He woke up thinking of her, while he worked he hoped that he would see her walking through the door, at night he dreamed of her and all the things he wanted to do to her. Cara Holiday was making him crazy.
For days following the filming he’d debated calling her and continuing his ruse. It was clear that she had no real interest in him beyond business. If that’s what it took to get her into his bed and quell this insane desire that he had for her, then so be it.
He stared at the phone and her business card that stared back at him from his kitchen counter. It was his day off and after business hours, but he had a good feeling that Cara Holiday didn’t follow that custom nine-to-five. He picked up the phone and punched in the numbers before he changed his mind once again.
The phone rang several times; then her voice hummed in his ear. He nearly forgot what to do next.
“Hello, Cara Holiday,” she repeated.
“Hello. This is Mitch Davis from the restaurant.”
Cara’s heart began to pound. “Oh, hello. How are you?”
“Good. I, uh, wanted to know when we could meet to talk about business.”
“Let me check my schedule.” She closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. “I have an opening. . . tomorrow after six.”
“Tomorrow sounds great.” He’d have to rearrange his schedule to make it happen. “Should I meet you at your office?”
“I’ll see you then. You have the address?”
“Yes, on your card.”
She sputtered a nervous laugh. “Of course. So, I’ll see you tomorrow at six-thirty?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
“Bye.”
“Good-bye.” He disconnected the call, leaned back, and smiled.
“So let me get this straight. You’re going to pretend that you want to sell your place and find a new one just so that you can see this woman?” Brad asked as they sat at the bar.
“Yep.”
“How long do you think you can carry on the charade?”
“As long as it takes me to get her to see me beyond a business deal.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Mitch tossed him a look. “I’ll deal with that if and when the time comes.”
“Why don’t you just ask her out and cut all the subterfuge? It’s bound to backfire.”
“If I thought for a minute that she had an interest in me beyond the next sale, maybe I would. And it’s not going to backfire.”
Brad studied his friend’s pensive expression. “You really got a thing for her. Just admit it.”
“I take the fifth.”
“I hope it works the way you want it to.”
“It will.”
Brad picked up his glass of beer and took a long swallow.
Mitch checked his watch. “Phil is on duty tonight,” he said, getting up. “I’m going to head over to her office.”
“Good luck, my brother.”
Mitch grinned. “See you tomorrow.”
Mitch had to drive around the block several times before he found a parking space. By the time he did he was already fifteen minutes late and had the crazy notion that she would be gone when he arrived. He was uncharacteristically nervous, as if it was prom night instead of a basic business meeting.
He walked down the busy street just as the first snowflakes of the season began to fall. He pulled open the heavy wood door and stepped into the warmth of the cozy offices of CH Realty.
“Can I help you?” Tricia asked.
“I have an appointment with Ms. Holiday.”
“Mr. Davis?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let her know that you’re here. You can have a seat.” She got up and disappeared down a short corridor. She returned moments later. “She’ll be right with you.”
“Thanks.” He unbuttoned his jacket and looked around. It felt like an eternity, but it was barely five minutes when Cara rounded the corner. His pulse galloped. Slowly, he stood.
A warmth hit her eyes while the most incredible smile moved like a lazy river across her polished lips. She extended her hand as she walked toward him.
Mitch took her hand in his. The jolt was simultaneous. Her eyes widened ever so slightly. His nostrils flared.
“Sorry I’m late. Parking . . .”
“No problem. Come this way.”
He reluctantly released her hand. She turned and he followed her to the back to her office.
“Please, have a seat.” She closed the door behind them and rounded her desk.
“You have a very nice setup.”
“It took some time, but it’s finally what I’d imagined.” She crossed her legs beneath her desk and linked her fingers together to keep them from trembling. “So,” she said on a breath. “First thing’s first.” She opened a manila folder on her desk and took out a form. “We can start with you filling out this application.” She handed it to him and their fingertips brushed. Cara’s breath hitched. She licked her lips and handed him a pen and quickly relinked her fingers.
“You didn’t say why you wanted to move.” She studied the top of his head and the way his long fingers held the
pen while he wrote.
“Um, downsizing,” he said off the top of his head. “I have more space than I need for one person. And I’ve been planning on opening a new location in . . . Philly. So I’ll only need something small for when I’m here in town.” He continued to fill out the form and amazed himself with the lies that flowed so freely. “I figure with the sale it will help finance my next restaurant.”
“I see. Always good to have a plan.”
He glanced up at her and she was shaken once again by the intensity of his eyes. “Yes, it is.”
“Your other restaurant is in D.C., correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a place there as well?”
“I usually stay at a hotel when I go to check on things.”
“How often?”
“How often?”
“How often do you travel to D.C.?”
“At least once a month.” He finished up the application and handed it back.
She made a show of reviewing it so that she could get her mind right. “I’ll have to get your financials of course. Bank statements, W2s, things like that.”
“Whatever you need.”
She swallowed. “I’ll run a credit report . . . unless you have one that is no more than six months old.”
“I have one in my files. I can get it for you.”
“Good. So, tell me what kind of space you’re looking for and where.”
He hadn’t really thought that far. “Um, I’d like to stay in the area. One bedroom, with a great kitchen; that’s my main criteria.”
She grinned. “Of course. I’m sure I can find you something.” She cleared her throat. “And I’ll have to see your space, take some pictures so that I can post it.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I know your schedule is as tight as mine. Let me know when I can come by.”
“Tomorrow evening. Say eight?”
Her heart pounded. “Let me check my schedule.” She turned to her computer screen and had to clear her head to remember how to access her calendar. “Uh, tomorrow looks good.” She’d cancel her other eight-o’clock appointment.
“Perfect.” He paused a moment. “Is there anything else you need to know?”
“Not at the moment,” she said a bit breathless. She stood.
Mitch drew in a long breath and rose. Cara’s gaze followed his ascent.
“I’ll walk you out.” She came from around her desk and Mitch was right on top of her. She eased by him and opened the door. He followed her out.
She stopped at the front door. “Thanks for coming. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“So am I. Good night.” He turned and walked out.
Cara slowly closed the door behind him and stood there for several moments.
“New client?”
Cara turned toward Tricia. “Looks that way.”
“Humph, I wouldn’t mind working with him,” she said wistfully.
“As soon as you get your license you can start with your own clients. How are classes coming?”
“I should be taking my test right before Christmas.”
“I know you’ll do fine.” She walked back toward her office. “Thanks for staying. Head on home,” she called out. “I’ll lock up.”
Cara sat in her office for a moment, taking in the silence and reliving the moments with Mitch. His scent lingered in the air. The tips of her fingers still sizzled from his touch. She could hear his voice and visualize the penetrating look in his eyes.
She had a hard time recalling when a man had affected her this way—all consuming. Even during her courtship and marriage to Jeff she’d never had this riot of emotions, this deep need in the center of her being. How in the world was she going to work with this man and keep her knees together?
Sighing deeply, she pushed back from her desk and prepared to head home. Anyway, he was planning on spending a great deal of his time in Philadelphia. If anyone knew how time-consuming it was to open a new business it was her. The last thing he would have time for was a relationship.
She shook her head. Relationship? Where did that come from? She slipped into her coat and picked up her purse and carryall. The man needed her assistance in selling his house and finding something smaller. That was all. She would do her job and keep her cravings to herself.
As she drove home she wondered what his home looked like and how he lived. He didn’t mention that the space he was looking for would be needed for more than one person, so it was safe to assume that he would continue to live alone. Once again she was getting ahead of herself. Business, Cara, business, she mentally chanted.
But the chant didn’t stop the images of his naked weight on her body or what he would feel like trapped between her thighs from the moment she closed her eyes that night until they opened the following morning.
Although he’d already had his day off, Mitch informed Brad that he would be out for the rest of the afternoon, following the lunch rush.
“So you’re really going through with this?” Brad asked.
“In too deep now.” Mitch checked the freezer and made a note to order a shipment of lobster and mussels.
“Yeah, I would say so.” He shook his head. “She’s coming to your place, and then what?”
“I’ll show her around, fix her an incredible meal, and then we’ll see.”
“What are you going to do when she finds out that this was all an elaborate ploy to get her in your bed?”
Mitch shut the freezer and turned to Brad. He leaned against the counter. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then what is it?”
“Yes, I want her in my bed, but I want to get to know her, too.”
“But under false pretenses.”
He turned away from the truth. “I’m going to tell her.”
“Hopefully sooner rather than later. The longer you drag this out, the more complicated it’s going to get.”
“I’ve got to go,” he said, needing to remove himself from the censured look in Brad’s eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good luck.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He strode out with Brad’s warning lingering in his thoughts.
Chapter 5
Cara could barely keep her mind on her work. Every few minutes she checked the time. She’d sleepwalked through her day and was nowhere near as on point as she normally was when showing a space. She hardly remembered what she’d said to her prospective clients. Her thoughts kept drifting to Mitch and the unending dreams she’d had about him. She had to keep reminding herself that Mitch Davis was a client. The evening with him was to see his space, to be able to put it on the market, and bring him a listing of potential spaces. That was it. That was all that he wanted from her.
She’d printed out a list of five apartments that had recently come on the market that she felt would suit his needs. However, after getting a sense of his esthetics, she’d know better if she was on the right track.
Her phone rang.
“Cara Holiday.”
“Hey, girl. How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” she joked. “What’s up?”
“The editing is almost done on the piece. It really looks good.”
“That’s wonderful. When will it air?”
“In two weeks. Thanksgiving weekend as part of a 20/20 special. Hopefully snaring a captive holiday audience.”
“Sounds good.”
“And you sound distracted. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, not really. I was putting together some information for Chef Davis.”
“Oooh la la. What kind of information?”
Cara gave her the Reader’s Digest version of what had transpired and her pending appointment with him.
“And you didn’t tell me! I’m so excited.”
“About what?”
“About what? Girl, you’re going to that man’s house and you know he’s hot for you, and I don’t give a damn what lie you keep t
elling yourself and me, but you feel the same way.” She paused. “Sis, it’s okay to care again,” she said gently.
Cara flinched and blew out a breath. “Once again, you’re reading more into this than necessary,” she said, sidestepping Stella’s last comment. “Besides, he wants a smaller place because he’s going to be opening up a venue in Philly. He’ll only be in Brooklyn part of the time once the new restaurant opens.”
“Never heard of long-distance relationships?”
“We don’t even have a neighborhood relationship,” she quipped.
“I’ll bet five dollars that all of it will change after tonight.”
“A whole five dollars, huh? Last of the big spenders.”
Stella laughed. “Anyway, what are you wearing? Are you going home to shower first? I think you should wear that navy wrap dress. Easy to get out of.”
“Stella! Would you stop?” Cara couldn’t help but laugh. “This is a business meeting.”
“Yeah, okay. If you say so. Like I said, five dollars and tomorrow you’ll be singing a different tune.”
“Fine. Five dollars.”
Stella giggled. “And don’t forget to shave! Later.” She disconnected the call before Cara could cuss her out.
Cara put down the phone and shook her head in amusement. Stella was nuts. She checked the time. Six. Her thoughts raced. She looked at her very formal business pantsuit outfit. She had plenty of time to run home, freshen up, and get to Mitch’s house by eight.
Quickly, she gathered up her things, tossed her good nights to Tricia, and darted out. That damned Stella. She maneuvered around traffic en route home.
Cara’s revamping took a bit longer than she’d anticipated, but she was satisfied with the outcome. Much to her chagrin she’d taken all of Stella’s advice; from the shower to the dress to the “touch up” down yonder. Now she sat in her car down the street from his house, and in the time that she’d taken to go home and change it had snowed at least an inch and it was still coming down. The flurries that the meteorologist had predicted were a thing of the past and it didn’t appear that the snow was going to let up anytime soon. The one thing she’d wished she’d considered was boots.