“Ah, jeez, I didn’t realize. I haven’t given you much notice. Have you got plans?”
She should say yes. Remember, the rules. “No. I don’t see why we can’t get together.” She caved but what the hell, why not? She was dying to find out where he was coming from.
“How about I’ll pick you up ‘round seven?”
“Okay.” Play it cool. Let him make the moves.
“And dress up, we’ll do it up.”
This had to be a date? Doubt wiggled its insistent way into her consciousness. But she refused to show it. “Sure thing. See you then.”
He HAD to be attracted to me!
Nah. He probably just wanted to take her out to celebrate the show’s success.
Perhaps Max only wanted to show his appreciation for her in a professional manner. That had to be it.
But, shouldn’t it be she who showed her appreciation? After all, he’d helped her find her Dream Job.
He was an ultimate gentleman and that was all it was.
As well as hot, sexy, incredible . . . Control, Felicity, exercise control.
Max experienced stomach butterflies all Saturday afternoon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date that excited him so much. Should he wear the Bill Blass dark-gray suit or the Calvin Klein black? He’d go with the black and a silk black shirt. No, too austere. Dark-red shirt with the black. Yeah, he’d been told by the ladies he looked good in red.
Now . . . for the flowers. He’d call his florist and would order a fresh dozen pink roses, or was the yellow for friendship? He wanted to go easy with Felice and not too pushy.
In the end, he decided on the yellow.
Max had arranged reservations at the Coliseum with a table in the private dining room, separate entrance, the usual. He didn’t want any attention from the press. His friends at his favorite restaurants knew how to handle things for the stars.
And, to top the night off he’d have his driver, Floyd take him in the Bentley. It had an elegant back seat with a soundproof tinted privacy window from the front, a tiny bar, and satellite TV and radio. That way, if they wanted to get romantic, they’d have the opportunity.
Did he want to get romantic?
Hell, yeah. Maybe he was a little tentative, but he wasn’t getting any younger. If Felice even was remotely interested, he’d better make a move lest someone else sweep her off her feet.
It was time to face his fears. Or else he’d never get a real life.
He arrived at her place fifteen minutes early. Should I go up now?
He knocked on the door, roses in hand.
Felice answered. She’d swept up her hair and had wisps of light brown curls around her heart-shaped face and flowing down her bare shoulders. Bright brown-hazel eyes greeted him with dark-green speckles peeking out and accentuated by the deep-red dress she wore. She’d applied just the right amount of makeup. Her pale pink lips screamed, “Kiss me.”
Damn. He knew he needed to control himself. The night hadn’t even started.
“These are for you, my dear.” He gave her the rose bunch. She quickly drew them in and took a deep breath.
“Beautiful, Max. You shouldn’t have. Please come in.”
She turned with the grace of a prima ballerina on high heels and he followed like a puppy dog to her kitchen. She busied herself with finding a vase and putting the flowers in fresh water. Then she set them on the breakfast bar.
“Let me at least give you a drink.” She poured a glass of white wine for each of them. “Jenny’s out with Ben and the dogs at the beach. I’d like to show you my new digs.” She led him to the balcony, screened-in, overlooking a pond with a multi-colored lit fountain. “This is my favorite place. I love the Spanish tile floors and ceiling fan. No too bad, huh?”
“Beautiful.”
Felicity sipped her wine and sighed. “Thanks. I thought we weren’t going to be able to move in until the start of the New Year, but the previous tenant vacated. Still, I need to get cracking on finding the right living room furniture.”
Max nodded. “All in due time, I suppose.” He glanced at his watch.
“Are we okay for time?”
“We’re fine. I do have the driver waiting though.”
“Your driver? What a switch-up.” She dazzled him with her bright smile and motioned for him to follow. “I guess I didn’t really show you everything. Follow me. I’ll give you a quick tour.” She led him away from the patio. “This is the living room.”
He noticed the comfortable but worn appearance of a soft, brown sectional and a large flat-screen TV. He wondered if she even took the time to watch it.
Felicity led him to the hallway and showed him the guest bath, bedroom, Jenny’s room and hers. She gave him a peek-a-boo glance at her bedroom, with a quick door opening and shutting. “I keep my collies in there. They sleep with me most of the time.”
“You’ve done well with the new apartment, kid.” Now why the hell had he said that? He attempted to correct his accidental tongue slip. The last time he called her that, he’d pissed her off. “I’m impressed with the layout.” Okay save. Maybe.
She eyed him, brow in the air. “Cut the shit, Max. You’re not going to get very far with me if you keep calling me ‘kid.’”
“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never utter the word again. Okay?” Max squeezed her arm and winked at her.
Her perturbed appearance disappeared as she smiled.
“Shall we?” he took her arm.
“Yes. Let me get my purse.” She walked ahead, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door.
Max resumed holding her arm. The warmth of her skin comforted him beyond measure.
They made it to the restaurant with nary a flashing bulb. Good. The plan seemed to work. Max rang the bell for the side entrance. Janice, their private host and waiter greeted them with exuberance and apparent happiness at seeing them.
They settled in the cozy booth with long-stemmed white candles already lit and soft music playing from the speakers overhead. Janice asked what they liked to drink and Max ordered his staple, dry martini straight up. Felicity asked for sparkling Saratoga water, with lime.
A moment of silence passed and then Max said, “Tell me what’s new at Sharpen.” Crap! Why did he open things up for shoptalk?
“It’s exciting. I think we’ve done a great job with recruitment and advertising. I’m happy our first season line-up is complete, with five women in various industries spanning from finance to beauty . . . all CEO’s of their own organizations.”
“Nice.”
Janice delivered their beverages, announced the evening’s specials, and told them she’d be back in a few minutes to take their orders.
“We’ve got the back-stories complete. Oh, and I need you to look at Margo’s interview. Next up are on location shots. We’ll feature their relationships, whether they are married or had a domestic partnership, and their children. We have one woman who is a lesbian and the rest are heterosexual. Two of the ladies are single and out on the dating circuits.”
“So we’re set.”
“For the first season, but of course we’re already on the hunt for more recruits for Season Two.”
“Always thinking ahead, I see.” He squeezed her hand across the table. She didn’t shy away.
At first.
Then she withdrew, sipped her sparkling water, barely, and continued without a breath, “And yes, thanks to Doug’s support he’s asking for another season. Did you know that? I have to say he’s one of the best people I’ve have the pleasure to work with, besides you.” She blinked and gave him a flirty smile.
His heart about leapt to his throat.
Max nodded as he sipped his drink. He opened the menu and noted Felicity did the same. They made their
selections and gave their order to Charlotte. Max inquired as to whether Felicity would like a bottle of wine with dinner but she declined.
The conversation during dinner continued in a polite, but too platonic for Max’s taste. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him after all.
Maybe he needed to probe a bit.
Janice served desserts and coffee.
“Have you heard any more from your old boyfriend?”
Felicity’s eyebrows shot up but she didn’t appear to be offended.
“He’s sent a few more texts asking me to get together with him . . .” Max’s heart dropped. “. . . to return some of my cherished books. I know he has another agenda. But, if it’s over, it’s over. He had his chance. I’m not going back.”
“How did you find out about his cheating, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He’d started off so supportive, with Jenny and all. I told you about the living situation. After I gave in to move in with him, I happened to discover several girls’ numbers in his pants pockets and then the text messages pretty much gave him away. I don’t get it. Why anyone would want to compromise a good relationship?”
Crap. He bet she had trust issues. He didn’t blame her. But, then, he didn’t maintain to best example of monogamy.
She continued. “How do they even have time to juggle two separate lives?” Felicity paused but obviously didn’t want an answer. “Anyway, I’m quite happy on my own. Between Applaud! and Sharpen I don’t have time for anything else. Besides, I’m young and have plenty of time to worry about a relationship later.”
Great. And therein lies the ten-year age-difference hurdle. She was still in the ‘single girl’ mode and he—he didn’t know what mode he was in.
In that moment, Max wanted to take this relationship to a higher level. Despite his misgivings. He chuckled thinking that not too long ago he doubted if he wanted to take the plunge. Max had a sneaking suspicion Felicity only put up a front to protect herself about getting involved.
“I can’t help but ask . . .” Felicity seemed tentative but Max braced himself anyway. “. . . but what’s really going on with Melania?”
Relief flooded through him. He’d thought she’d ask about his past. Something he definitely didn’t want to get into.
“Nothing. She’s been a little clingy. You can’t blame her. She’s new to the country and uprooted herself from her family. So, she leans on me a bit.”
“But isn’t it the same with her other friends with the foreign contingent at your school? Why are things different with Melania?”
“Things aren’t different, necessarily. She may be a little spoiled. I think it originated in Costa Rica. She was the youngest of three children and the only girl.”
“She seems to be in love with you.”
“No. Not at all. She only likes the attention. Believe me. She demands it from everyone. And she has her share of dates.”
“Why do the tabloids have you two involved?”
God! Felicity looked so cute the way she tilted her head with shards of green shooting out of her adorable eyes. Could she be jealous?
“Because it’s the reporter’s job to stir gossip. Why all the questions?” Max took her hand and kissed it. “It’s you I’m interested in.”
Felicity’s luscious and pouty lips were slack as her jaw dropped slightly. Max wanted to devour those lips. Now.
Felicity appeared to be satisfied with his explanations about Melania. He’d been surprised she had even been concerned about Melania. She was the least of their problems.
Dinner drew to a close. And, sadly, Max feared, soon would the evening. After paying the bill, Max asked if Felicity would be up to some dancing. He knew a jazz club slightly off the beaten path. It was quaint. Quiet.
She thankfully agreed.
In the car, he put his arm around Felicity. For a second he expected her to withdraw. Instead, she curled into it. Into a perfect fit.
Max enjoyed seeing Felicity in a relaxed state and not playing hyper-focused professional she did so well. She needed to unwind and decompress.
He put his nose in her hair. She smelled musky with a combination of vanilla. Sweet. Soon he would devour those lips.
Felicity enjoyed the dinner with Max, except for the voluptuous Latina server, Janice, who seemed to be flirting with Max every step of the way.
Then Felicity thought she messed up, a little, when she got to talking about work. Maybe she’d come off too strong. Too standoffish and overly focused on her career.
But, then, in the car on the way to the jazz bar, she’d thought she might have had him. He kissed her cheek and chills ran down her spine. Then he moved closer and tucked her under his arm. She so wanted to kiss him. But, considering how well the first time went when she made the first move, she’d second-questioned herself and decided not to.
At the jazz club, Max asked her if she’d like a drink. She backed down from her own personal promise to abstain from alcohol and asked for a white wine. A couple of wines after the big dinner shouldn’t hit her in the head.
Old-school Sade played by the five-piece jazz band got her wanting to dance and she couldn’t help herself so she asked, “Hey, why don’t we dance?”
Max got up and led her to the dance floor, twirling her once and directed her into a slow dance. The heat from their physical closeness reached every cell of her body. She dared not glance at him but tucked her head on his shoulder.
The song hadn’t ended before he curled a finger under her chin and Max stared at her lips for an excruciating moment. He finally brought her lips to his. A soft, innocent, tongue-less kiss, yet amazingly erotic. And then he led her off the dance floor to their seats.
Her soul yearned for more of his touch. It took all of the willpower in her being not to crawl on his lap and kiss him until she set this man on fire.
But, she didn’t.
They danced a few more times, she had a couple more wines and before she knew it, the band announced their last song for the night.
During their final dance, Felicity longed to stay glued to this man. Forever.
But, hell, it’d been only their first date.
And she had a six-date rule. To which she’d firmly adhered.
The kissing turned more heated on their return trip. Thank goodness for the privacy window that separated them from Max’s driver. He opened his mouth and filled hers with silky playful tongue action she’d be sure to write about in her journal.
My God, the man could kiss. But there’d been a deeper feeling inside of Felicity. Like she belonged with Max. In a more authentic way than she head ever experienced with any other man. But, she could’ve been caught in the moment and tried to rationalize away the thoughts.
Her self-control didn’t work very well.
At one point it seemed like his hand accidentally brushed the side of her breast as though to size it up a little. She forced herself to back off, ever so slightly. He moved his hand away to behind her back and pulled her close to him for more kissing. Felicity was practically on his lap by the time they got to her neighborhood and the making-out never stopped.
“I’d like to ride about town consuming those lips all night,” he whispered in her ear.
Ah but all good things had to end. The six-date rule. Remember it, girl.
Max kissed her more. Tantalizing. As evidenced by the telltale wetness between her thighs.
“I’ve had a wonderful evening,” he huskily whispered in her ear. Then Max held her away as though to take in her facial features. “You are exquisite. When can I see you again?”
For real? How about you stay?
“Soon. I have a busy week ahead.” Could she have possibly controlled her mouth? She meant to sound neutral and open the door for him to propose another date. Instea
d she had to sound all businesslike.
“As we both do. But there’s tomorrow. No business on Sunday.”
Actually, she’d planned to go to the studio. She decided to be bold. “What do you have in mind?”
The driver turned the corner onto Felicity’s street.
“How about brunch? You sleep in.” He touched her cheek and let his finger trail down to her chin and lifted it to kiss her once again. “And I’ll pick you up around one?”
The car came to a stop. Why did the night have to end so soon? His dark eyes bore deeply into hers. She so wanted him in her apartment. Now.
Max softly pulled her to him, his hand wrapped tightly in her hair and his smooth tongue slid into her mouth, playing a dance she didn’t want to stop.
But it had to.
“Let me walk you to your door.”
And then at the door another long, luxurious kiss she didn’t want to stop. It took every ounce of will to withdraw, open her door, and get safely inside without him.
She leaned against the door and jolted out of her reverie by Tinkerbelle, her text-messaging alert.
Crap. Brad again. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?
Leave it to a text message from an ex-boyfriend to destroy the mood.
Chapter 8
Felicity stretched in her bed as the morning sun streaked through the blinds. She awoke in the middle of a dream about Max. It’d been a lovely continuation of the previous night. She’d abandoned her plans of working at the studio and was glad to be off on this glorious Sunday. She set about to make a pancake breakfast for her sister. She wouldn’t eat since she’d be going to brunch with Max. She peeked in Jenny’s room finding her still sound asleep. Well, it was only eight o’clock.
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