Songbird by Syrie James Page B

dug into them hungrily. By nine-thirty the effects of her long day had caught up with her. Feeling tired and dejected, she returned the albums to the station’s library, grabbed her purse and sweater, and headed for home.
    She parked in her garage and was in the process of yanking down the heavy, wood door when she heard the approaching roar of a car. Tires squealed. A dark-green Maserati turned into her driveway and stopped before her, engine humming, headlights glaring.
    Kyle leaned his head out the open car window. “Just getting home?”
    Astonishment and excitement tingled through her at the same time. She couldn’t believe how glad she was to see him. Glad? she asked herself. Understatement of the year. Try ecstatic.
    She locked the garage door and crossed to his car, fighting to hold back a smile. The smile won. “Broads in broadcasting are dedicated souls,” she said.
    “ No kidding. Remind me to believe you if you ever say you have to work late.”
    She leaned on the window frame. In the glow of the street lamp she could see he wore a light tan suit, blue shirt, and matching striped tie. He looked gorgeous.
    “ Thanks for the roses,” she said. “They’re beautiful.”
    “ My pleasure.”
    His rusty-brown hair was wind-tousled. She ached to run her fingers through it. He must like to drive with the window open, she thought, to feel the wind on his face. So did she.
    “ Why aren’t you in Seattle?”
    “ My meeting ran later than I expected. Much later, in fact. Looks like I’ll be here for another day. I was with a potential client and he insisted on wining and dining me. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Finally, I told them I had a date for tonight, and made my escape.”
    “ Do you?” she asked.
    “ Do I what?”
    “ Have a date for tonight.”
    “ That depends on your answer to my next question.”
    “ Which is...?”
    “ Do you like ice cream?”
    She laughed. “Do ballerinas wear toe shoes?”
    His lips widened in a devastating smile. “Well then, hop in.”
    Hop in? Should she? She studied his face in the moonlight and decided he was too handsome for her own good. She’d love to go out with him. What sane woman wouldn’t? But if she spent another few hours in his presence, she’d only make it harder for herself when he left the next day.
    She swept a lock of hair behind one ear and gestured toward the cutoffs and T-shirt she was wearing. “My outfit may be fine for my job, Mr. Harrison, but I doubt if it’s appropriate for a night on the town.”
    His eyes traveled the length of her legs with an appreciative glow. “As a matter of fact, I’m the one who’s overdressed for the place I have in mind. As I recall, the sign outside said Shoes And Shirt Required. It didn’t say a thing about long pants.”
    She laughed again. “I don’t know, Kyle. I—”
    “ Come on, lady.” He reached across the car and pushed open the passenger door. “Be daring. I promise you a good time.”
    Reason and caution deserted her. She circled the car and climbed in. “You’re the last person I expected to find on my doorstep tonight,” she said after he’d backed out and gunned the sports car through her quiet neighborhood onto Beach Boulevard.
    He gazed at her briefly before turning back to the wheel. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.”
    He asked about her day, probed with endless questions, and seemed to be fascinated by what seemed to her the most obscure details. He said he’d spent the day in boring meetings, and the high point of his day was dinner.
    “ You’ll never guess what I ordered,” he said.
    Their eyes met. “Lobster,” they said in unison. Their laughter was immediate and spontaneous.
    “ I hope your client didn’t steal it away from you.”
    “ No. But it didn’t taste the same without you there,” he said, his voice low and deep.
    She felt that now-familiar flutter in her stomach and had to turn her face to the window to hide her blush and the