Amy looked ready to add something else, but the rest of the staff walked in and the opportunity for speaking in private was lost.
After the morning’s meeting Mira got stuck into her work. She was currently designing the water feature that would go in the huge lobby of the resort project. It was supposed to be large and ornate and yet elegant and rustic. The owner wanted to them to use all natural and, preferably, local material.
This would normally be a challenging project, but it was made much more difficult by the fact that the entire unit had to be completely self-contained. The resort would be built almost into the side of a mountain. That meant bedrock so the wires needed to power it could not run under the floor, at least not easily. The feature would also sit in the middle of the floor so running wires up a wall wouldn’t work.
A week ago she would have been thrilled by the chance to labor through such an interesting dilemma as she generally only worked on the larger aspects of a building like the façade. It felt good to be given the opportunity to assist with something smaller, but more intricate. She felt like she could really put her creative mark on something. That is, if she could keep her mind on the project and off of James Kelly.
Ever since the party he had remained stuck in her thoughts like a large and very annoying splinter. The more she tried to dislodge him, the more entrenched he became. It was ridiculous. From the coldly polite way James had treated her after that memorable dance, it was clear that he had no interest in her. He probably hadn’t given her a thought.
**********************************************************
Barry Sims backed slowly out of James’ office and looked questioningly at Mary. “Mr. Kelly just called and ordered me to come and personally give him and updated on the Ashton project, but,” he continued, “when I got here he yelled at me for interrupting him. As far as I could tell he was doing nothing but sitting there and staring into space. Did I do something wrong?”
Mary walked over and patted his shoulder in a motherly fashion. “Don’t worry about it dear,” she said. “It’s not your fault. He’s been acting like that all day. I suggest that you just get back to work and try to forget about it. I’m sure he’ll work it out of his system, eventually.”
“Thanks Mary.” Barry shook his head and hurried from the room.
Inside the CEO’s office James threw down his pen in disgust and ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. He just couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything today and he knew that he was being harsh with everyone. The problem, he thought with some malice, could be laid squarely at Mira Ander’s door. His decision to back off had seemed reasonable on Friday night. She made him feel too deeply.
The minute he had decided to stay away from her, however, his anger had increased along with his confusion. It was ridiculous. Yes, she was a beautiful and desirable woman, but there was nothing special about her. He absently rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps, he rationalized, his intense reaction last night had been a fluke or, possibly, he was having problems because he had told himself that she was off limits.
If that was the case the only solution was to work her out of his system. That would require that he spend as much time as possible with Mira. He would soon see that she was just as grasping and narcissistic as every other woman he had dated.
With that decision made, the weight that had been sitting on his chest since Friday suddenly disappeared and his head cleared. With a sudden burst of enthusiasm he pushed back his chair and stood up. There was no time like the present to get started.
Mira felt her skin begin to tingle and she knew without turning around that James was standing behind her. “Mr. Kelly,” she said. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Why so formal Mira?” James asked. He blew lightly on her exposed neck and watched with absorbed fascination as the few soft tendrils of hair that had managed to escape her severe knot danced in the light breeze.
Mira forcibly controlled a shiver. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she said tartly. “Why would I act any way but formal toward you. You are my boss?” She couldn’t understand what was going on with James. If he thought he could blow cold one minute and hot the next and get away with it, he had another thing coming.
“Hmm,” James murmured noncommittally. He leaned over her shoulder. “Is that the water feature for the resort that you’re working on? It looks like some kind of water wheel.”
“That’s what it will be, hopefully. I thought that this would be the best way to create a self-sustaining structure. We needed some way to pump the water without using an outside power source. It still has to go through the engineering department, but I think it I’ve got the beginnings of an idea.”
“What about the base?” he asked interestedly.
“I was thinking about a large, round pool made from native stone.”
“It’s natural, simple, and environmentally friendly. I like it.”
Mira sighed. “Yes, but will Jonathan like it? I got the impression that he was looking for something a bit more elegant.”
“He may be the client, but I’m still the boss. Let me handle Mr. Ashton. Now, if that’s all the business out of the way. I’d like you to have dinner with me tonight.”
“What!?” Mira spun around in surprise and slammed into James’ broad chest. Without thinking, she raised her hands and shoved him back. “I don’t understand you,” she almost wailed. “After the cold way you treated me Friday night, are you asking me on a date?”
James grinned down into her upturned face. “I believe that is exactly what I’m doing. There’s a new Indian place that I want to try out.” He turned and headed toward the door. “I’ll pick you at 7 o’clock on Friday. Wear something comfortable.”
“But I haven’t agreed yet.”
Amy walked over and slung a companionable arm over Mira’s shoulders. “So,” she said with a grin. “It was just business huh?”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I guess the only question is, what are you going to wear?”
Chapter 18
Mira surveyed the mess that had once been her bedroom, but was now one big, messy closet with clothes strewn everywhere, and closed her eyes in defeat. Granted, she wasn’t a fashion maven like Lily, but neither was she known as being a complete failure in that department. In fact, she regularly received compliments on her choice of attire. Something about knowing that this could be her first real date with James was making her a nervous wreck.
With a heartfelt sigh she flopped backward on the in the pile of clothing that covered her bed and stared morosely at the ceiling. She was placing way too much importance on her outfit, she finally admitted, especially since she hadn’t actually agreed to go out with him.
She rolled over onto her stomach and pleasurably contemplated the look on his face if he showed up at the door and she refused to go out with him. After his strange, fluctuating behavior it would serve him right. She knew herself too well, though, and she wasn’t going to do that. In spite of the risks, she had been dreaming about James Kelly asking her on a date since she was a teenager so if she didn’t go she would end up regretting it.
The trick, she thought, would be to remember that James was no longer the sweet, thoughtful boy who had been her friend and confidant. He was an older, tougher and more cynical version of that boy and, despite the fact that she found him extremely attractive, she wasn’t even sure if she liked him.
In addition, she was also an older, more experienced, confidant woman. She was no longer the love struck, fawning teenager that she had once been. She had handled the death of her husband, chauvinism in her chosen field, and a sensationalist court case. She could definitely handle James Kelly.
With a decisiveness that she hadn’t felt in months, Mira bounded off the bed and pulled out her most comfortable, faded pair of jeans. She paired it with a white, eyelet tank top, slipped on a pair of low-heeled sandals and ran a brush through her hair. When the doorbell rang ten minutes
later she was already waiting in the front hall with her favorite crocheted purse slung over her shoulder.
She straightened her shoulders, pasted a bored expression on her face, and opened the door. Her pulse may have leapt erratically at the sight of James dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a soft gray t-shirt, but her face betrayed nothing. Then he pulled his hands from behind his back and offered her a bunch of bright yellow daisies. An unconscious smile slipped over her face. With an effort, she ignored the flowers and nonchalantly leaned against the doorjamb.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she said. “I didn’t actually agree to go out with you. Perhaps I already had plans for the evening.”
“You didn’t, did you?” James asked somewhat uncertainly. She looked fabulous in her tight jeans with her long, thick hair framing her beautifully sculpted face. He was sure she would be waiting for him, but he supposed it was possible that she had another date. That would be too bad, he thought with a trace of his renowned arrogance, because she would just have to break it.
“I went to a lot of trouble planning this evening and I even bought you flowers but,” he said with a woebegone expression. “I suppose I can just eat alone and throw the flowers away.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Mira reached out a hand and grabbed the flowers before he could drop them. “Would I be spiteful enough to get dressed for the evening and meet you at the door just to tell you I’m not going?”
“I don’t know, would you?” He walked forward, forcing her back through the door.
She lifted her free hand and stopped his advance. “I’m going to dinner with you, but only because I’m hungry so don’t get any ideas. I won’t be one of your women and I don’t remember inviting you into my house so you can just stay right where you are while I go back inside and put these flowers in some water.”
“That’s clear enough,” he replied with a barely controlled grin. Usually, he preferred ‘his women’ to be the non-emotional, accommodating type but, for some reason, he found Mira’s attitude refreshing and highly amusing.
While Mira was busying herself with the flowers he took the opportunity to glance around. From his years in the building and design industry he knew that much could be discovered about a person from their choice of décor. It would be interesting to see what Mira chose to surround herself with.
From his position just inside the front door he could see most of the living room and a small slice of the kitchen. He was vaguely disappointed to see that there was very little personality in the large, open area. White walls, unadorned by any artwork or pictures, made the space appear sterile and empty, a feeling that was barely negated by the sparse amount of furniture.
There was one long, low coffee table made of some dark wood and a few ubiquitous wooden stools sitting at the glossy breakfast bar. The only real spot of color was a large, comfortable looking sofa upholstered in a bright, garish red. She either didn’t consider this place home, liked a bland environment, which he immediately dismissed, or hadn’t had time to decorate. It would be interesting to figure out which one it was.
“So did you gain any deep insights into my psyche?”
James almost jumped as Mira suddenly appeared next to him. “Perhaps,” he said. “Are you ready to go?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. “Keys,” he demanded.
With her free hand Mira fished around in her bag and handed him the house key. “You know,” she said in irritation. “You need to stop dragging me around as if I’m some puppy. I am a fully grown, mature woman and perfectly capable of walking by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“I’m perfectly aware of how mature you are.” His heated gaze roamed slowly over her jean clad form, causing gooseflesh to rise on Mira’s arms. “However,” he continued. “If I let you go how can I be sure that you’ll go where I want you to?” He tightened his grip and pulled her down the walkway.
“I might actually decide to go with you of my own free will, but if you don’t give me a choice, you’ll never know will you?”
They reached the car and James placed her in the passenger seat before rounding the hood and sliding in. “There is that, but what if you chose wrong. No, I think it’s safer to hold onto you.” The car started up with a throaty growl.
Mira huffed and crossed her arms. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a control freak?”
“It’s been mentioned a time or two.” He glanced over and grinned at her. “Buckle up.”
The car shot away from the curb and Mira immediately reached for the radio. She cycled through the stations until she found one that was playing loud rock music. Just what she needed. Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ blared out of the speakers. She sang along, her voice barely drowned out by the radio.
“Are you trying to damage your eardrums?” James shouted. “We’re supposed to be on a date and that usually involves talking. Turn that down.”
“I never actually agreed to a date,” Mira yelled back, “and I don’t want to talk to you right now. Besides, this is a great song. Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy it. Live a little.”
With a barely audible sigh James gave up and tried to concentrate on driving. The place was a bit out-of-the-way, down several dark, winding roads and he needed all his concentration. He tried to block the sound of the radio but, by the time they pulled into the parking lot, he was tapping his fingers and humming under his breath.
The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place that Mira had expected James to take her too. She had thought he would try to impress her with his wealth and sophistication by bringing her to an upscale, expensive place. She had been wrong. Instead, they were seated at small, round table that wobbled slightly and was covered by a faded tablecloth that had probably been a deep, rich burgundy at one point.
The intensely sweet and spicy smells emanating from the kitchen, however, were enough to make her taste buds tingle in anticipation and her mouth water. She hadn’t eaten since lunch and she was starving.
James watched the intense concentration on his dinner partner’s face and decided to a wait a while before trying for any type of dialogue. It would be nice to think that the intensity was focused on him, but unfortunately she seemed oblivious to his admiring gaze. She did, however, look ready to pounce on the server who was delivering food to a nearby table.
The loud growling of her stomach brought Mira out her daze and she realized that she was poised to spring. She relaxed her tense muscles and focused her gaze on the table.
“Hungry are you? We’d better get you fed before you start gnawing on the chairs.” James chuckled with amusement as her stomach rumbled again.
She quickly looked up and narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “A proper gentleman,” she said, “would have politely ignored the noise and asked the waiter to bring us an appetizer.”
“I never said that I was a true gentleman, but I’ll see what I can do.” With an imperious wave of his hand he summoned a waiter to their table and Mira was soon ravenously devouring a delicious piece of Nan bread.
After she had consumed two of the delicious rounds of flat bread, she sat back and looked at James. “Now that I’m not starving,” she said, “is there something in particular that you wanted to talk about?”
“Did you know,” he asked rhetorically, “that you’re the first woman that I’ve met in a long time who doesn’t seem afraid to enjoy her food. Most of the women I date merely pick at their meals.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked suspiciously. “Because it sounded like you just called me a pig and, anyway, I’ve already told you this is not at date.”
“A pig.” He leaned forward and looked at her in consideration. “You would look cute with pointed ears.” When she glared at him pointedly he sobered up. “Actually,” he said. “I find your appetite very refreshing. It’s nice not to feel like I’m committing some kind of offense by openly enjoying my food. You must have had a tolerant mother
. Mine slapped my hand if I even put my elbows on the table.”
“Tolerant,” she laughed, “is not a word that I would apply to my mother. I loved her dearly, but she had very strict ideas on what was and was not proper behavior. I can remember sitting in a corner for half an hour one day when I came in with dirt on the hem of my Sunday dress.”
“So, you were a young rebel.” He leaned forward and placed his hand on top of hers. “It’s a shame that your mother isn’t around to see the beautiful, confident woman that you grew up to be.”
“Now that,” Mira said softly as a delicious tingle traveled up her arm, “is a proper compliment.”
A discrete cough sounded above them and she immediately sat back and pulled her hand away. It would be way too easy to be drawn under James’ spell she realized, but she couldn’t let that happen until she was sure that she was more than just another conquest to him.
With that thought in mind, she carefully steered the dinner conversation into less personal channels.
James let her get away with that tactic until she had finished her curry and laid down her fork. In fact, he reluctantly acknowledged, he had also needed the time to recover. Not only had touching her hand given him more pleasure than he usually got from kissing another woman, but he had also inadvertently let something slip about his childhood.
He rarely thought about that period of his life let alone talked about it. It made him remember his life before his mother had died and before he had seen his father in the harsh light of reality, when he still saw the man as an unsung hero. Those times were long gone however and he had no wish to revisit them. Something about Mira, though, made him feel too comfortable. It was almost as if he had always known her.
He mentally shook his head. That notion, of course, was ridiculous but he should still be more careful and, in the unlikely event that he slipped up again, it would only be fair to find out as much about his dinner partner as possible.
“So Mira,” he broke into her animated monologue on the benefits of capturing solar energy. “I know that you went to school in California, but I have a feeling that you didn’t grow up there. You have a trace of the North in your accent. You’re from somewhere around Boston, right?”
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