and velvety, was as distinctive as the rest of
him.
“Shameless
flattery,” Elsa laughed, “but I expect nothing less from you, charmer that you
are.” Someone called her name, and she vanished into the crowd, calling out a
promise to return “after catching up with dear Bootie.”
“I’m
going for another round,” Duncan said. “Jules, I know what you want. Craig, how
about you?”
“Vodka
martini, thanks. With a twist.”
“Excellent
taste,” Duncan said with a smile before darting into the crowd around the bar.
I
repressed a wave of annoyance. Duncan, as usual, was doing his best to set me
up with an incredibly attractive man. What Duncan didn’t know—because I
hadn’t gotten around to telling him—was that this particular man most likely
considered me a dizzy idiot. I resolved to maintain my dignity, and show Mr.
Manning that I was more than a comic interlude.
“Thanks
again for letting me dry off in your suite yesterday,” I said politely.
“It
was the least I could do. Can I ask you a direct question?”
Anticipating
a teasing, superior jest about rain, raincoats, or soaking wet women, I replied
with a smile. “Sure. Ask away.” I prepared myself to react graciously, to prove
that I could take a joke.
“Are
you seeing anyone?”
His
question surprised me. But I masked my surprise and responded firmly. “Not at
the moment. Dating isn’t really my thing.” He’d made his move quickly and
decisively. Maybe Sara was right. Maybe he was a playboy.
“It’s
not mine, either, but I’d like very much to have dinner with you. There’s a new
French restaurant in the Back Bay that’s getting excellent reviews. Perhaps we
could check it out together some evening this week.” He smiled disarmingly.
I
had to give him credit. He was smooth. “I can’t,” I replied, suppressing an
unwelcome twinge of regret. “I’m scheduled to work every night this week.”
A
look of frustration crossed his face. “Let me make myself clear, Juliana.
Obviously, you’re a beautiful woman, but beyond that... there’s something about
you. You intrigue me. I’d like to get to know you, to talk where we don’t have
to yell to hear each other over the hubbub. Pick a date, time, and location,
and I’ll be there.” He was persuasive. Not to mention scorching hot. Part of me
wanted to have dinner with him, but I reminded myself that there were enough
challenges in my life already, without adding any man—let alone a wealthy
playboy—to the mix.
Just
then, Duncan returned with our drinks. His timing couldn’t have been better.
“Maybe
some other time. I’m just really busy this month,” I replied, taking my
martini. “Thanks, Duncan. Craig, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Elsa. She
promised to introduce me to Genevieve DuBois, whom she thinks might be
interested in my paintings.”
Escape
made, I glanced back. Although still talking with Duncan, Craig was watching
me. Our eyes met for an instant before I turned away. Removed from the
immediate force of his presence, I breathed more easily, and my heart returned
to a normal pace. I silently congratulated myself, pleased that I’d held my
own.
But
maybe I was being overly cautious. After all, it had been years since I’d felt
a significant attraction to any man. Craig Manning had been nothing but kind to
me, and part of me regretted refusing his dinner invitation.
I
pushed the thought away. I might have solved my money problems for the moment,
but my life was still a mess. I needed to focus on myself. I needed to push my
painting career, and figure out if I could make it work. And if I couldn’t, I
needed to move on to pursuing other career options. Looking for Mr. Right
wasn’t on the agenda.
Resolving
to avoid the tempting Mr. Manning for the remainder of the evening, I proceeded
to locate Elsa. I found her on the far side of the atrium.
“Juliana!
I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You must meet Genevieve DuBois. Genevieve
has
him.
“Shameless
flattery,” Elsa laughed, “but I expect nothing less from you, charmer that you
are.” Someone called her name, and she vanished into the crowd, calling out a
promise to return “after catching up with dear Bootie.”
“I’m
going for another round,” Duncan said. “Jules, I know what you want. Craig, how
about you?”
“Vodka
martini, thanks. With a twist.”
“Excellent
taste,” Duncan said with a smile before darting into the crowd around the bar.
I
repressed a wave of annoyance. Duncan, as usual, was doing his best to set me
up with an incredibly attractive man. What Duncan didn’t know—because I
hadn’t gotten around to telling him—was that this particular man most likely
considered me a dizzy idiot. I resolved to maintain my dignity, and show Mr.
Manning that I was more than a comic interlude.
“Thanks
again for letting me dry off in your suite yesterday,” I said politely.
“It
was the least I could do. Can I ask you a direct question?”
Anticipating
a teasing, superior jest about rain, raincoats, or soaking wet women, I replied
with a smile. “Sure. Ask away.” I prepared myself to react graciously, to prove
that I could take a joke.
“Are
you seeing anyone?”
His
question surprised me. But I masked my surprise and responded firmly. “Not at
the moment. Dating isn’t really my thing.” He’d made his move quickly and
decisively. Maybe Sara was right. Maybe he was a playboy.
“It’s
not mine, either, but I’d like very much to have dinner with you. There’s a new
French restaurant in the Back Bay that’s getting excellent reviews. Perhaps we
could check it out together some evening this week.” He smiled disarmingly.
I
had to give him credit. He was smooth. “I can’t,” I replied, suppressing an
unwelcome twinge of regret. “I’m scheduled to work every night this week.”
A
look of frustration crossed his face. “Let me make myself clear, Juliana.
Obviously, you’re a beautiful woman, but beyond that... there’s something about
you. You intrigue me. I’d like to get to know you, to talk where we don’t have
to yell to hear each other over the hubbub. Pick a date, time, and location,
and I’ll be there.” He was persuasive. Not to mention scorching hot. Part of me
wanted to have dinner with him, but I reminded myself that there were enough
challenges in my life already, without adding any man—let alone a wealthy
playboy—to the mix.
Just
then, Duncan returned with our drinks. His timing couldn’t have been better.
“Maybe
some other time. I’m just really busy this month,” I replied, taking my
martini. “Thanks, Duncan. Craig, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Elsa. She
promised to introduce me to Genevieve DuBois, whom she thinks might be
interested in my paintings.”
Escape
made, I glanced back. Although still talking with Duncan, Craig was watching
me. Our eyes met for an instant before I turned away. Removed from the
immediate force of his presence, I breathed more easily, and my heart returned
to a normal pace. I silently congratulated myself, pleased that I’d held my
own.
But
maybe I was being overly cautious. After all, it had been years since I’d felt
a significant attraction to any man. Craig Manning had been nothing but kind to
me, and part of me regretted refusing his dinner invitation.
I
pushed the thought away. I might have solved my money problems for the moment,
but my life was still a mess. I needed to focus on myself. I needed to push my
painting career, and figure out if I could make it work. And if I couldn’t, I
needed to move on to pursuing other career options. Looking for Mr. Right
wasn’t on the agenda.
Resolving
to avoid the tempting Mr. Manning for the remainder of the evening, I proceeded
to locate Elsa. I found her on the far side of the atrium.
“Juliana!
I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You must meet Genevieve DuBois. Genevieve
has
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