Read A Single Date (Dating Just Got Serious) Online
Authors: Jacki Kelly
A Single Date (Dating Just Got Serious)
A SINGLE DATE
by Jacqueline Harris
A SINGLE DATE
Copyright
© by Jacqueline Harris 2013
This is a
book of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead or events or locales is entirely
coincidental.
All rights
reserved. The reproduction or utilization of this work in any form or in any
part by any means electronic, photocopying or other means available now or in
the future is forbidden without written permission. For permission please
contact YOBACHI PUBLISHING at [email protected].
For Eleanor and Rosa
The Series ~ Dating Just Got Serious!
Yolanda Maxwell glanced
at the clock on the dashboard of her new sport coupe and winced. She had five
minutes to maneuver through the thick Philadelphia traffic or risk being late
again. Based on the conversation her assistant had with the contractor, this
was his last trip to her condo. No matter what, he wasn’t
coming back. His condescending attitude set her teeth on edge. Every minute of
her workday was busy, but he couldn’t discuss her kitchen and bath renovation
in the evening when she had more time.
She pulled into her
designated parking space in front of her unit and shut off the engine. A
battered truck plastered with vacation bumper stickers occupied her other slot.
It had to belong to the ill-tempered contractor. Who else would have the
audacity to use her spot?
With two minutes to
spare she grabbed her new green Hermes bag and dashed up the walk. As she
rounded the shrubs, he smacked a note on the front door.
“I’m not late. It’s not
five o’clock yet. I still have a full minute,” she called to him as she
approached.
“Yeah, but with your
track record, I expected you to be a no-show, again. You are Yolanda Maxwell,
right?” His voice had the same disapproving tone she’d heard before.
“Yes. Why? Who else
would I be?” She thrust her chin higher, dismissing his reprimand.
“All of my interactions
have been with your assistant and I assumed…never mind. Forget I said
anything.” He looked away but not before she saw the chagrined expression on
his face.
He wasn’t at all what
she’d imagined, either. Instead of a fat dumpy guy with pants hanging below a
big beer belly, he was tall and all lean muscles. His sleeveless T-shirt
exposed biceps the size of her calves and his tanned skin only made his wheat
colored hair and light brown eyes more pronounced. The striking resemblance to
Brad Pitt was amazing, only he was much taller and several years younger.
She stuck out her hand
and tried to sound casual. “Please call me Yani. My parents call me Yolanda
when I do something that doesn’t meet their approval. And believe me, I hear
Yolanda often enough. You must be Drew Sizemore.”
He grabbed her hand in
a firm grip.
“It’s nice to finally
put a name with a face. I was beginning to wonder if you really existed.”
“I’m sorry about those
missed appointments. I did show up a little late last time, but you had already
left. I’m usually very prompt, but I just got stuck in the office.” She stepped
in front of him to unlock the door. “Sometimes getting away is not easy.”
He gave her what
could have been a smirk before crossing the threshold. “I know you’re very busy,
so instead of taking up too much of your time, why don’t you show me what
changes you want to make.” His thick Timberland boots clomped across the
hardwood floor. A tiny pink teddy bear dangled from the tool belt strapped to
his waist. So, he was either married with children or single with children.
His hair was
pulled back into a ponytail that hung to the neckline of his shirt. A man with
a ponytail, she shook her head. Her father would have something negative to say
about that if he saw it.
“Yes, certainly.”
She led the way toward the kitchen. “I bought the condo two years ago, but I’m
only now getting around to making some changes. I want to open up the kitchen
so it flows into the rest of the house, which means taking down this wall and
this bank of cabinets. I want quartz countertops and a double oven in the
wall.” She stopped to see if he understood her chattering.
With his hip
positioned against the kitchen sink and his clipboard on the counter, he looked
uninterested.
“Aren’t you going
to write this down?”
“Don’t need to.”
His deep voice was intimidating.
“Mr. Sizemore, I
don’t want to have to repeat myself over and over again.”
“Call me Drew. And
I have no intention of making you repeat yourself.” He stepped closer to her,
freezing her in place with his penetrating stare. “I heard everything you said.
Please continue.”
She swallowed past
the tightening in her throat. This was her house. She should have feel in
control. Instead, the way he towered over her made her nervous and clumsy. She
backed away from him and made her way into the dining room.
“Now, should I
show you the bathroom en-suite that I want to re-do, too?”
“Sure. Continue
on, I’ll follow you.” His eyes took a long, slow tour of her hips and then down
to her legs.
She tugged at her
pencil skirt, uncomfortable with the unauthorized attention.
“So what’s up with
the teddy bear? Is it a hidden screwdriver?” She wanted to sound casual, and
draw his attention away from her body.
He made a half
laugh, half-snort sound.
“What’s so funny?”
“You didn’t think
you were the first person to ask about my teddy bear, did you?”
“Then you know
it’s odd for a muscular man like you to have a pink bear hanging from his
waist.”
“My goddaughter
gave it to me for my birthday two years ago. And just so you know, I don’t care
what people think of me. I only have to please myself.”
His manifesto settled
in her stomach like a load of bricks. She was still trying to muster the
courage to stand up to her parents and he made it sound so easy.
She cocked her
head and glanced back at him. “You’re lucky, Drew.”
“How so?”
“Never mind.” With
him behind her a strand of nervousness inched up her spine. She felt his eyes
on her as she hurried down the wide hall to her master bedroom. Inside the room
she stepped aside, allowing him to stand beside her. “The bathroom is right
through there.” She pointed, choosing to follow him now. Good thing nothing
personal cluttered the counter, she already felt exposed.
“What would you
like to see in here?” He stepped inside the small area, directing his attention
to the ugly brown tile on the floor and the hideous beige Formica counter and old
ceramic sink.
“I want something
more modern, more feminine.” She pressed her back against the wall to keep her
distance from him. Even though they stood in her personal space, she tried to sound
authoritative like she did in the conference rooms at work.
“You’re not at all
what I expected.” He swung back around to face her.
She drew her eyes
up to his face, realizing he’d changed the subject. “Yeah, you already said
this. Since you feel the need to say it again, don’t you think you should tell
me what you were expecting?” She huffed.
“Maybe I shouldn’t
say.” His voice dropped an octave, sounding even sexier.
“Now you have to
tell me. I want to know.” She folded her arms over her chest and stuck out a spike
heel-shod foot. “Go ahead, say it.” She almost dared him to insult her again.
“Well, I thought
you were going to be an uptight corporate executive. While you’re certainly
uptight and you’re obviously a corporate big shot, you’re the best looking one
I’ve seen in a long time.” His deep voice floated over her like an invitation
to something memorable.
“I…I—”
“I probably
shouldn’t have said that. But I tend to say what’s on my mind. My filters are
limited.” He turned back and peered in the shower as if he’d just commented on
the weather or a baseball game score. “Do you have any specific ideas for the
bathroom or should I make suggestions?”
She cleared her
throat. “Yes, I’d like to hear your ideas.” She hurried out of the confined
space and back into the kitchen where sun poured in through the window and a
counter separated them.
Without asking, he
grabbed his clipboard and took the nearest chair. While he scribbled she removed
a bottle of pinot noir from the rack and poured herself a glass.
His pronouncement about
her looks rattled around in her head like a loose marble. She was flattered by
the comment, but his arrogance and brashness almost erased the charming side hidden
under his low-slung jeans and slightly bowed legs.
“I’ll have a
glass, too.” His voice drew her attention away from the window.
“What?” She faced
him.
“I’ll have a glass
of wine, too.” He lifted his foot across his knee and put the pencil down. “You
meant to offer me a drink, didn’t you?”
“Actually I didn’t.”
As she reached for another wine glass she hoped her comment startled him for a
change.
“I’m usually done
at four on Friday’s. But since you couldn’t get here any sooner, you’re
actually encroaching on my weekend. It’s the least you could do, don’t you
think?”
She filled the
glass and placed it on the counter. Unable to decide if he was hostile or
flirting was unnerving. She didn’t know whether to smile or show him the door.
He strolled across
the room and accepted the glass. She was almost five feet, nine inches tall,
but standing next to him, she felt petite. Judging from where her shoulder hit
on his arm, he had to be at least six foot, five. The hunky, handsome handyman
had her imagining thoughts from lusty love scenes. This felt more like a date
than someone she planned to hire.
“Are you always so
forward?” she asked. “You know, the comment you made in the bathroom?”
“Most of the time.
Are you always late?” Even though his comment changed nothing between them her
heart pulsed with expectation.
“I’m sorry about
our last appointments. I apologized already.”
“Apology
accepted.” He tapped his glass against hers and took a sip. “This is pretty
good. Now can we talk about timing and budget?”
She tried to focus
on the reason he was standing in her kitchen, sipping wine from her special
stash. Instead her brain acted like it was on an out-of-control merry-go-round.
His shoulders were broad enough to hold up the world.
She blinked away
the lustful thoughts. “The budget is fifty thousand and not a penny more and
I’m hoping you can have everything finished in four weeks. I’m planning a
Memorial Day party.”
He put his glass
down. For the first time since meeting him, his lips parted in a beautiful
smile. His whole face brightened, which made him even more dashing.
“I should be able
to get it done with that budget, but the timing is not realistic. We haven’t
got a design yet or any materials.” He jotted something on his clipboard in
bold strokes while squinting at her.
“What does that
look mean?”
“It happens all
the time. The owner delays the project then expects me to pull a rabbit out of
my non-existent hat.” He shoved the pen into the clipboard and turned toward
the door.
“Wait a minute.
Where are you going?” She grabbed his arm.
“Home. It’s late
and I’m exhausted.” He stuck his thumb through the belt loop. “I’ll be here
tomorrow morning at eight. If you can get up early enough, we can finalize the
design and start shopping. I can get your project done in about six weeks, but
that depends on how committed you are and the materials you select. If those
terms don’t work for you, find someone else to rush your project through.”
“Excuse you, Mr.
Sizemore. The last thing I need is for you to come in here and give me
ultimatums. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but it’s obvious
most of your information is incorrect. You can let yourself out, I’ll find
someone else more agreeable to complete my project.”
He swaggered
towards the door. His T-shirt clung to the muscles across his back. His massive
hands hung at his sides.
He yelled over his
shoulder. “I’ll be here at eight.”
“Don’t bother,” she
said without conviction.
