Playing With Fire by Deborah Fletcher Mello Page B

with excitement. She felt like a teenager facing her high school crush for the first time. The sensation surprised and unnerved her. She took a deep breath and then a second to stall the emotion sweeping over her. When her nerves were calmed she headed toward the register.
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    Romeo stood in the parking lot, pacing back and forth behind his car. The space was dark save the faint light emanating out of the store and the three light poles spaced sparsely apart in the lot. He glanced down to the Rolex on his wrist. It was after eleven and he should have just headed home, but something about the encounter with Taryn was holding him hostage. He leaned back against the trunk of his car, folding his hands in front of himself.
    The woman was stunning, and truth be told he was slightly intimidated. He was used to women fawning over him, their not-so-subtle messages allowing him full control of his romantic situations. Taryn hadn’t fawned. In fact, she’d seemed almost indifferent, and that had thrown him off his game. He felt like he’d fumbled their first meeting despite trying to appear calm, cool, and collected.
    Just as he was replaying the encounter over again in his head, Taryn exited the building. Romeo drew his body upright. He adjusted his suit jacket, buttoning it around his torso as he stepped toward her. As he approached, the beautiful woman came to a sudden stop, surprised to still find him there. She tossed a look over her shoulder and around the parking lot, seeming to collect her bearings, in case she needed to make a quick exit. The gesture made him chuckle ever so softly. He called her name, the hint of a question punctuating each syllable.
    â€œMr. Marshall, hello again,” she said, curiosity sweeping between them. “Is something wrong?”
    He shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering if you might be interested in getting a drink with me. Unless you have a husband or boyfriend you need to get home to?” He shifted his weight from side to side.
    Taryn eyed him curiously, then swept her gaze across the parking lot behind him as she pondered his question. She shifted her eyes back to his. “I appreciate the invitation but unfortunately I can’t. I’m sorry.”
    He nodded. “Maybe we can get together for coffee tomorrow? Or I’d love to buy you lunch. Or dinner.”
    She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. . . .” she started.
    Romeo’s head continued to bob up and down. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said abruptly, cutting her off. “I just thought I’d ask. You don’t know me and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He paused, taking a deep breath before finishing. “Have a good night, Ms. Williams.” He turned, spinning around in his black leather shoes.
    He’d made it back to his car when Taryn called his name, moving behind him.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI leave for Paris on business in a few hours and I’m not even packed yet. Otherwise, I would have loved to go get a drink with you. And I won’t be returning until Saturday, so there’s no way I can plan to see you tomorrow. But if you’re still interested I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you when I get back,” she said.
    Romeo felt himself grinning broadly. “Oh. Okay. Great. It’s a date.”
    Taryn smiled, the wealth of it shimmering in her eyes. “No, it’s just coffee,” she said, a low chuckle easing past her lips.
    Romeo’s smile widened. “Just call me at the club when you get back, if that works for you. We can firm up our plans then.”
    She nodded. “That works. And please, call me Taryn. Ms. Williams was my mother.”
    â€œAs long as you call me Romeo.”
    Spinning on her high heels, Taryn eased her way to her own vehicle. She tossed her grocery bag into the passenger seat and eased inside. As she pulled out of the