A Taste Of Fantasy

“You betcha. You blow this you’ll end up alone in a cold apartment with a shriveled you-know-what, eating cold ravioli out of a can.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I better give it some serious thought.” Jack rubbed his thumb along the side of his jaw, pretending to be giving it some serious thought. All kidding aside, and he owed Maria thanks for bringing him face-to-face with the truth this morning, he’d spent the last few days fooling himself thinking he was trying to decide. He’d made his decision about ten seconds after he saw Samantha sitting in the bar, rigid with nerves over being out by herself. She was too perfect for the shoot not to call.

At the same time, he was smart to recognize the rush of fight or flight energy, like a swimmer seeing shadows in the water under him, not knowing if they were coral reefs or hungry sharks. No question he had a struggle ahead to keep the relationship professional.

“Well.” He sighed, long and loud. “If you’ve made up your mind, Maria, then it’s obvious what I have to do.”

Maria nodded firmly, her lips starting a smile that reflected his mischief. “Damn right.”

“I guess…” He shrugged in exaggerated helplessness and let his hands slap down on his thighs. “I guess I have no choice but to call her.”

“MS. TYLER? SORRY TO keep you waiting. I’m Rick Grindle.”

Samantha looked up from the file she’d been studying in the reception area of Eisemann, Inc.

Yikes.

Her nice-to-meet-you smile immediately threatened to slide off her lips and she had to use extra muscle to bolster it back up. Whatever she’d expected Rick Grindle to look like, this wasn’t it. The man was well over six feet and built like a linebacker. The way Tanya, his accuser, had talked about him, Samantha had expected something closer to Elmer Fudd.

His eyes were an intense pale gray set off by the pure white of his shirt and the deeper-gray charcoal of his perfectly tailored suit. The black-and-white impression was marred by a crimson tie that made a silk blood-swath down into his neatly buttoned jacket. His hair had started to go the way of bald things and he kept what was left buzzed military-short. Unlike some guys, the lack of hair reinforced his virility and completed the picture of the imposing giant.