A Glimpse of Fire

What the hell was it about him that made her want to be foolish? She pretended to study the menu, hoping her ridiculous desire to skip dinner and go straight to a hotel room would pass.

“What are you going to have?” she asked, keeping her eyes lowered to the menu.

“The teriyaki rib eye steak.”

“You big chicken,” she said, shaking her head at him.

“Hey, it’s not like I’d ask them to leave off the teriyaki sauce.”

They both laughed.

She laid down the menu. “How adventurous of you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Where are you from?”

“The Pittsburgh area. And you?”

She’d expected the return question and saw no harm in answering. “Right here. I was born at New York General, although I grew up mostly in Tarrytown. It’s about forty minutes away.”

“I know the area. Nice.”

She nodded. “So green and pretty. I miss it but I like living in the city.”

“Which part is that?”

She smiled. “How long have you lived here?”

“In Manhattan, about five years.” His gaze roamed her face, lingered on her mouth. “I think our drinks are coming. Ready to order dinner?”

“Are you in a hurry?”

He gave her that sexy look again. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

THEY LEFT THE RESTAURANT AN hour later. The sun had set, but there was still another half hour of light left. No way would Eric let this evening end. He still didn’t know her last name or anything else about her. Other than she was from Tarrytown but now lived in the city.

Of course, knowing she’d grown up in Tarrytown provided more insight. He could safely bet his Rolex that her family had some money. The upper-middle-class community was a far cry from the steel-mill neighborhood where he’d grown up. Hell, even the Rockefellers had an estate there.

Although he didn’t need particulars to know she came from a genteel background. Breeding showed in every step she took. The softness in her voice. The graceful way she moved. Modeling, of course, gave her polish, but she had her own natural panache that couldn’t be learned or faked.

“How about a walk?” he asked before she could flag a cab and disappear.

“Sure. It’s nice out. Not as sticky as last week.”

“I say we head for Central Park.”

Her eyebrows rose. “It’ll start getting dark by the time we get there.”

“Afraid of the big bad wolf?”

“Should I be?”

He smiled. “I think Tom probably assured you that I’m an okay guy.”

“Tom?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets as they turned down Sixth Avenue. He badly wanted to touch her, but he’d wait for a signal. Let her call the shots. That’s what she wanted. That’s why she insisted on the secrecy.

“Was Tom at the party?” She seemed genuinely confused, which gave him pause.

“I figured it out, Dallas. We both saw you in the display window. Tom had to have put you up to this.”

“What are you talking about?” She slid him a sidelong glance, her eyebrows drawn together in a skeptical frown.

“There’s no other explanation.”

She shook her head with a wry smile. “Maybe we ought to skip the walk. You need some serious rest.”

“Yeah, I hardly slept last night.” He kept watching her, noticed her near misstep, the way her cheeks colored a little. “What about you?”

“Fine. I slept just fine.”

“Good. Then you shouldn’t be in any hurry to get home.”

She laughed. “Very sly.”

“Look out.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her close when she nearly collided with a shabbily dressed man staggering wildly, obviously drunk.

“Thanks.” She leaned against Eric as she glanced over her shoulder at the man, who’d already passed by—but not so his rank odor. “Sad, isn’t it?”

The compassion in her eyes touched him, as misplaced as it was. He took another look at the guy, evidently homeless and drunk. “He needs a good meal instead of spending his money on booze.”

“You don’t know his circumstances.” She pulled away. “He may have just lost his job or received some horrible news.”

“You’re right.” He drew her back against him and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said that. But there were a lot of steel mills where I grew up. I saw what happened to men who lost their jobs.”

Looking away, she murmured, “Yeah, I’ve seen it, too.”

That surprised him. What did she understand about that world? About the blue-collar laborer who was so readily sacrificed to improve the bottom line of a corporation’s financial statement? He understood. Too well. His brothers were fools for languishing in the mills, and settling for the same scraps their father had.

He caught a glimpse of Central Park a couple of blocks away, along with the lineup of carriages and horses with their colorful hats. “I have an idea. How about a carriage ride?”

“Are you serious?” She laughed softly. “Only tourists do that.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we just eat in a touristy restaurant?”

“Touché.”