Sparks

He flashed a look of mock surprise. “Oh, you mean I’m allowed to speak?”

Embarrassed, she cupped her face with both hands, looking up at him with a wide-eyed look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that. It’s just sometimes I get on a topic and my mouth moves until the topic is finished.”

“So—”

“Fortunately, I’m learning to listen more. I’m an excellent listener. In my field, it helps to make sure that my clients feel that their concerns are being addressed. I can assure you, Mr. Taylor, that you can feel confident that all your ideas, suggestions, concerns or whatever else will be heard.”

“Ms.—”

“I can’t tell you how excited I am by your proposal. I was able to flesh out many of your ideas. I think it’s great that the Institute has selected a new president to give it a new direction. I believe that this endeavor is adventurous, though extremely ambitious, but…” She paused and drew her brows together concerned. “Mr. Taylor, if you’re not careful you’ll strangle yourself with that tie.”

Jordan loosened his grip. “For a brief moment that had been my intention,” he said gravely.

“Why?”

“I was hoping that if I passed out you would stop talking.”

She covered her mouth then let her hand fall. “Again, I apologize. I—” He shot her a glance; she bit her lip. “I’ll stop.” She made a motion of zipping her lips closed.

“Good. May we get down to business?”

She nodded.

“Let me get my jacket.” He disappeared before she could reply. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. He stared at his reflection and began to arrange his tie.

“She’s not my type,” he told himself. “I don’t like women who talk too much and I don’t like pushy women. She’s both. That means I’m not attracted to her. I’m just excited about her ideas. I don’t care that she’s good-looking. That I’m thinking what she’s like not suited up. I am not interested.” He took a deep breath then left the bathroom. He saw Dawn on the ground putting things in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced up. “Sorry, I knocked it over.” She gestured to the hall table. “I wasn’t snooping.” She picked up a box of hair dye. “You have gray hair already?” she asked, surprised.

“No.” He took the box from her and the plastic bag with other items he had purchased from the drugstore, the night before.

She stood. “Then why dye your hair? What color is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m curious.”

He shrugged.

She gave him a flirtatious look. “There are ways of finding out.”

“Well, that’s one way you won’t find out.”

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed; Jordan fought a smile. “Right of course,” she said.

He opened the closet and grabbed a coat. “The restaurant is a few blocks from here.”

“Okay. I’ll give you more time to get ready.”

He closed the closet. “I am ready.”

“Um, your tie is crooked. Would you like me to fix it?”

No. He didn’t want her touching him. He yanked off his tie, tossed it on the hall table and opened the door. With that eloquent answer she followed him outside.

Chapter 5

He was a riddle set to music, Dawn thought as she sat in front of Taylor at the Little Tavern Greek restaurant. Jazz? No. There was no unrestraint or animation to him. Classical wouldn’t suit either. There was too much soul burning beneath the surface. Country? He was certainly a transplant to the Washington Metropolitan area. He had a slow, thoughtful manner, a definite contrast to the fast pace of the city, and a hint of a carefully tempered southern drawl. But he wasn’t that nor rock or R&B.

She couldn’t pinpoint him. Dawn continued to study him behind her menu; she’d been sneaking glances at him since they’d first met. Had he not been a man, she would have called him beautiful, but his contradictions got in the way of such a simple description. Everything looked dwarfed around him. The chair he was sitting in looked like a toy, yet he moved with grace. He had a thin top lip as though drawn by a ruler, but his bottom lip was full and sensuous. She wondered if that feature annoyed him.

His eyes were a surprise. When his gaze first fell on her face she’d taken an involuntary step back. She had expected dark-brown eyes, but his were light-brown. They looked the color of biscuits just pulled out of the oven. However, they didn’t reveal much. Not warmth or coldness—nothing. She couldn’t say the same for his voice. It betrayed a number of emotions in one word. That’s when she knew how to describe him. He was an opera, bold, majestic, and enthralling.

She moved her gaze from his face to admire her surroundings. Large mirrors in gilded gold frames, hung on blue brocade wallpaper, reminiscent of an old Victorian mansion. Miniature votive candles were strategically placed next to the white china, and gold leaf cutlery was set on white linen tablecloths. In the middle of the table, fresh pink roses added a delightful fragrance. He had great taste in restaurants. Unfortunately, all she could think of at that moment was that the dinner was going to be a huge payment on her credit card.

“Are you ready to order?” Jordan asked.

Dawn returned her gaze to the menu. “I’m still looking.”

“Take your time. Do you mind if I order?”

“No. Go right ahead.”

He turned to the waiter and placed his order. Dawn listened with interest then disbelief as he ordered two appetizers, an entrée with three side dishes and dessert. “Bring it all at once,” he said, closing the menu with a snap. He looked at Dawn and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes.” She hastily glanced down at her menu. She didn’t know what she was looking at. The only words that looked familiar were gyro and moussaka. She ran her hand down the selection of choices, pretending to know what she was doing. She didn’t want to spend money on something she couldn’t eat.

“Should I come back?” the waiter asked.

Dawn turned a page. “Umm…”

“I think you should get the pastitsio,” Jordan said. “Do you like pasta?”

She looked at him relieved. “Yes, that’s right. I’ll have the pas…that.” She handed the waiter the menu and watched him leave. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dawn wrung the napkin in her lap. Now that they had placed their orders she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tease him about his large request, but he didn’t look the type that took teasing well. Instead she looked at the tablecloth until she could see the fine stitching.

She had to concentrate. He was a potential client. She wouldn’t think of him as a man. She looked up from the table and saw him glancing at a couple smiling at their baby.

“Do you know them?” she asked surprised by his intense look.

He shifted his gaze to her, and Dawn gripped her hands in her lap wondering when she’d get used to his piercing stare. “No. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just curious.”