Page 12 of Secret Admirer
She said, “Bart! I’m happy you called.”
He stepped back into the shadows of his room. Her voice held more excitement in it than anyone else’s he remembered at hearing from him. This was stupid. He was just a regular guy, who was curious about what she looked like under that old dress she’d worn yesterday. “I was wondering if you’re free this evening. There is a party at my brother’s house and I’d like you to come with me.”
“I’d love to come.” She had so much cheer in her tones that he had no choice but to smile.
His blood quickened. Rebecca had something special that made him aware of her, despite the list of reasons why he shouldn't. Perhaps sex would sate the feeling. What flavor would she taste like? Sex was something he understood. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.”
“Looking forward to it.” And he believed her! She wasn't the type to play games.
He hung up the phone and tried to shake the duality of feelings she caused. Sex might help, but if this was more, then he was in trouble.
Bart ignored that and headed to the conference room.
The staff he'd hired to help him run the presentations had already set things up. He took his seat and hoped one of these inventors had found a viable way to convert carbon emissions into oxygen that he could sell to factories and car makers around the globe to stop global warming.
He'd had high hopes but the day progressed painfully slow. No inventions would work for him to invest in. At the last presentation, he’d contemplated stabbing the inventor who had decided to switch out his pitch midway to some gaming investment instead.
At five o’clock he splashed water on his face, changed and headed out to pick up Rebecca.
Her deep blue eyes, like the ocean at night, made him wonder if the color was real, or manufactured, like her hair.
Perhaps dressed up, she’d fit in with his family--maybe yesterday, she'd just met him on a whim. As his limo drove down a street of one-story houses with multiple cars parked in the driveways, his lips thinned.
The limo stopped, and he stepped out.
Two of Rebecca’s neighbors stopped cutting their bushes to stare at him.
How in the world did Rebecca live like this? His skin was jumpy, but he pressed her doorbell.
Hmm. He didn’t know if it rang or not, but then the door unlocked. Rebecca’s hair was up in a stylish ponytail, but her black dress had seen better days.
“Welcome, Bart. You still look like a prince charming type.” She motioned with her finger for him to come inside. “I hadn’t imagined you.”
“Caro, don’t put me on a pedestal. I’m just a man.”
Her chandelier shimmered clean, but her cream walls were dated and the ceilings low. He followed her out of the dark hall and into the living area where she signaled for him to wait. He stilled as she ran into a side room that must be her bedroom as he asked, “You live here?”
She came out a moment later and he saw another stain on her sleeve. She carried shoes that had almost no sole left and he glanced at her up and down.
When she smiled, her ocean-blue eyes gleamed and made him forget that she wasn't dressed in designer clothes. “It’s not a mansion but it’s mine and it’s paid for. And sorry I am wearing this dress. My father needed me to fill in at work today which cut out my shopping time, and when I told him I had a date, he told me to wear this. So I did.”
“We can fix the dress.”
Her spine straightened, and she stood taller. His own skin jolted. He must have offended her and now she might not want to go with him.
“I’m out of my element here with you, Rebecca.” Right. He needed to find a way for others to see she fit in or no one would let him live down tonight. “It’s a house for a maid.”
“Well, I’m not a maid to anyone.” She shrugged and motioned toward the door. “We can go now.”
And he’d have to find a way to not entirely insult her like he had. Bart noticed the sway of her hips as she moved very gracefully. His lips tingled like he wanted to kiss her, though that seemed a dangerous thought. “I don’t mean to offend you. Is this only a thousand square feet?”
She took her keys out of her small beaded pocketbook. “Twelve hundred actually.”
Rebecca propped the door open with her foot and gestured for him to leave her house as he asked, “Including the garage?”
He stepped onto the path and she locked the door behind her.
Bart looked to the right and saw the neighbors staring at him like he was from another planet.
