Blood In The Stars (4 page)

He stared at her, waiting for an answer, while she yearned to lean over and kiss him. Someone as gorgeous as he surely must know the effect he had on women. But though she saw a hint of desire, she mostly saw earnest anxiety for her well-being.

Taking her brain out of the gutter, Daria nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thank you again for saving my life.” Then she sputtered on before she could change her mind. “Can I take you out and thank you properly?”

She didn’t even know how she mustered the courage to ask Jason out. To thank him, she reasoned. Only to say ‘thank you.’ No need to get her hopes up for something more.

“That sounds great.”

Well, that was easy. Maybe asking someone out wasn’t so hard after all.

“But I want to take
you
out,” he added, eyes twinkling. “To somewhere nicer this time. Not a place where we can barely hear each other talk.”

Tingling anticipation filled her. Did she just get asked out on a second date? Here she stood worrying about her pride, when he planned to ask her out anyway. Giddiness replaced the tingles. And he really needed to stop smiling at her in that adorable way. It did funny things to her stomach.

How could she say no to such a sweet man?

She threw on her brightest smile. “We can argue about that later.”

“Friday night. I’ll pick you up at six. Let me get your number, too.”

She reluctantly stepped out of his arms so he could tap the numbers into his cell phone. When he was done, she glanced at her door, debating whether or not she should invite him in. She didn’t want him to think she was easy, but she desperately wanted to kiss him.

As she stared at her door, she felt him take her hands in his. He brought them to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers. “I bid you good-night, my princess.”

Her heart knotted in disappointment. He was going to leave without kissing her. Without touching her.

Then he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he had done in the alleyway. Only he didn’t pull away. He lingered, his breath hot along her hairline, his lips branding her skin. Daria closed her eyes, enjoying the intimacy of his hands gently holding hers while the scent of his aftershave tickled her nose. This was much better than a kiss. They barely touched but he held her as if he found her precious.

Jason stepped back and Daria opened her eyes. “You’re my hero.”

His brows crinkled and he gave her a pained smile.  “Let’s hope we’re the stars in a fairytale and not living through a tragedy.”

Chapter 4

Daria slapped her hand over the nightstand, again and again, until she found the switch to turn off the blaring beep of her alarm clock. Sunlight streamed through the cracks of the mini-blinds, splattering blotches of brightness across her blanket. Seven o’clock. Ten more minutes. She turned on her back and slowly eased her eyes open.

After all the excitement from last night, she had spent another two hours reviewing the files for today’s internal meeting, which was to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with their new client, the founder of the Hellerman Foundation. Unfortunately, those two hours had been anything but productive.

No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her mind kept switching to Jason. At first, she had daydreamed like a lovesick adolescent, fun for maybe twenty minutes. But then that niggling doubt had crept into her mind. What did he see in her? She had never considered herself a woman who lacked confidence, but in the dating department, her poise wavered.

She proceeded to list off all the reasons why she was a catch. That had placated her doubts until a new qualm swept over her. Why did he seem so familiar? No amount of pondering gave her an answer, and the two hours that should have been spent over the legal brief, had instead passed her by.

Daria looked toward the clock on her nightstand.
Just a few more minutes
. She shut her eyes again and an image of Jason popped into her mind. A satisfied smile spread across her lips.

What a wonderful, nice guy. And a total hottie. She sighed contentedly. Maybe Jason’s interest in her lay in the realm of fantasy, but she didn’t mind indulging in it all the same. Her limited dating experience usually reminded her to temper her hopes and protect her heart.

She finally crawled out of bed and lumbered to the bathroom, leaving just enough time to shower, dress, and eat something before work. She needed to focus on today. The meeting would require all of her attention.

After shedding her clothes, she stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded down her hair, soaking her scalp and easing her nerves. She kneaded her tight shoulder muscles.

Suddenly, the water turned scalding. Daria yelped and jumped out of the hot stream. When she eyed the handle, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with its position. Cautiously, she placed her fingers under the liquid. Her arm snapped back as steam filled the stall and the water burned her.

Daria reached for the handle, but the droplets of water falling on her skin didn’t feel so hot anymore. She tested it again. It seemed all right.

She poured shampoo into her hand and lathered her hair. But a minute later as she rinsed off the suds, her scream echoed off the tiles. “Jesus Christ!”

She hastily stepped back. What was going on here? Now the water was icy cold. She glanced at the handle again. It remained in the middle of the ‘H’ and ‘C’ the same as usual. A temperature malfunction? That seemed strange.

Daria spent the next ten minutes jumping in and out of the water as it switched from hot to cold every minute. By the time she finished, her skin was half-burned and half-frozen.

Grumbling and annoyed that her morning shower was thoroughly ruined, Daria threw on a robe and toweled her hair dry as she went to the kitchen. She pulled out a loaf of bread from the refrigerator and popped two slices into the toaster. Then she returned to her room to change.

Dresses, shirts, slacks, sweaters, and dozens of shoes filled her walk-in closet. Her eyes ran over the various color choices before she pulled out a gray pants suit.

She sniffed. Acrid bitterness clawed its way through her sinuses as smoke scraped her throat like dark fingers.

“Shit!” Daria dropped the clothes and dashed out of her room to the kitchen. Orange flames danced from the toaster and the lovely odor of charred food and burned rubber filled the room. Without a second thought, she yanked on the plug.

Sparks flew and Daria fell on her butt, bruising her tailbone on the hard floor. The fire subsided, leaving white and black smoke swirling from the ruined toaster.

She sat there for a long minute, wide-eyed, her brain still processing how this could have happened. A short circuit? Did her bread catch on the heating element?

Her hacking coughs stopped further thought as she scrambled to open all her windows. The last thing she needed this morning was the smoke alarm going off and her neighbors calling the fire department, forcing an evacuation of the entire complex. She’d had enough fires for a lifetime after last night.

She sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and waved her arms around like a madwoman to help exchange out the smoke. When she was satisfied the air had cleared, she turned back to the kitchen and gasped when she saw the clock on her microwave. It couldn’t be that late already!

Dashing to her room, Daria wrenched off her robe and slipped on her suit. Then she sped into her closet and grabbed a pair of pumps. Tripping a bit in her rush, she snatched her purse off the countertop, keys jangling as she fumbled to pull out the correct one among the chains and knickknacks strung on the ring.

Two seconds later, she raced to the elevator just as the ping sounded.

Perfect timing.

But as she stepped in front of the elevator, her foot gave way. Daria plunged head first through the parting doors, her hands reaching out in desperation to cushion her fall. Her right hand caught the handicap rail but her knees crashed to the rough carpet. Pain shot up through her wrist from the wrench of the fall. Tears stung her eyes.

“Oww,” she whimpered. When she glanced back, she saw the heel of one shoe hanging limply to the side.

The elevator doors slid shut while Daria took a moment to steady her heart before tentatively testing her feet and ankles. Nothing broken, nothing sprained. The heel of her foot was a little sore from the initial fall, but she was none the worse for the incident except some bruising. She counted herself lucky.

Damn. She really liked those shoes, too. That was the second pair ruined in two days.

Daria staggered back to her condo and changed into another pair. Five minutes later, she sped down Ontario Street and checked her watch to see if she was making good time. She needed at least another fifteen minutes; it was eight-thirty and their meeting started at nine sharp. She should be fine.

On any other day, she wouldn’t have been in such a rush. But this was preparation for Mr. Burke’s meeting with a new client and he was the last partner at the firm she hadn’t charmed into loving her and her work. With promotion possibilities around the corner, she wasn’t going to lose any chance to impress him.

The flashing crosswalk signal stopped her as she reached Michigan Avenue. She hopped from one foot to the other at the edge of the curb. A car sped by and she stepped back. Jitters bubbled in her stomach. She hated not being on time. Daria glanced at the light, wondering why it was taking so long.

Then someone pushed her.

The world moved in slow motion. A light turned green and all the cars waiting to turn left onto Ontario began driving straight for her. Her body jerked forward, propelled beyond the curb into the right lane. Her head leaned out while her legs and feet still stubbornly clung to the ground to keep her from rushing to an untimely death. But she lost her balance, and when a car whizzed by in front of her, Daria realized she was going to die. Again.

First the shower, the toaster, her heel, and now this. Tomorrow morning, would the
Chicago Tribune
report that a pedestrian had been run over? After narrowly escaping death the night before? She could already see the headlines:
Chicago Lawyer Pushed Into Oncoming Traffic By Morning Rush
.

The world was conspiring against her lately. Maybe she was meant to die young. Daria caught a glimpse of a cab coming straight for her.

This had to be the worst day of her life. She just hadn’t thought it would be her last.

As Daria fell to her death, she expected to see glimpses of her childhood, visions of people from her past. Yet she saw only the imminent tarmac mixed with gory fantasies of her body splattered across the intersection to the horror of passing tourists.

Just when she wondered why her life wasn’t flashing before her eyes, strong hands clutched her arms and pulled her back.

She sucked in a desperate breath. A cold sweat poured over her body and she swallowed to keep her pounding heart from jumping out of her chest. Then she turned to thank her savior. Large sunglasses hid the face, but Daria saw waves of blond hair cascading down the woman’s back.

“Are you okay?” a sultry voice asked.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Daria whispered. “I slipped.”

But in her head she thought differently. She didn’t slip. Someone pushed her.

“Be careful,” the woman warned, stepping out into the intersection after the light changed and vanishing into the tides of people.

Daria scanned the crowd again but with everyone around her crossing the street, she knew she wouldn’t find the culprit. She let out a pathetic sigh, feeling an ocean of pity for herself. What the hell was going on lately? Was the world out to kill her?

She power-walked to her building and as she headed west to Dearborn Street, she noticed the man moving south to the same intersection seemed awfully familiar.

“Daria?” he called out.

“Jason! What a surprise.” She didn’t know how it was possible, but in his dark blue suit and patterned tie, he looked even better today than last night. The tailored suit showed off his broad shoulders and narrow hips, while the thin yellow stripes on the tie brought out his eyes. He smiled and her stomach cartwheeled.

Yet worry lined his brow as his cold fingertips grazed her hand. A delightful shiver rose up her arm at his touch. “Did you sleep okay last night? After everything that happened?”

She swayed closer, wanting him nearer, forgetting about her awful morning, and basking in his care and worry. “I slept well.”

Relief flooded his face and his fingers linked with hers. “It’s so nice to run into you. Do you work around here?” She pointed to her building and he laughed. “I’m in the same building. Funny how we never saw each other before.”

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to shun the coincidence. She’d had enough bad luck these last few days and felt she deserved a few good turns. Normally she would have indulged in the reasons why they never met, but not today when she needed to run to her meeting. She wished she wasn’t in such a hurry, but if she wanted to make partner before thirty, work had to come first . . . except she wasn’t as certain she still wanted to make partner.

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I can’t chat. I’m almost late for my meeting. Can we talk later?” Daria didn’t want him to think she was blowing him off. She really did want to talk. But later, after her meeting, when she wasn’t so anxious and in a rush.

“Sure.”

“Thanks!” About to run off, she turned back abruptly and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then laughed as she rubbed the lipstick off with her thumb. She gave him a little wave and ran into the building.

It was so unlike her to show affection like that. But she was glad she kissed him. Life was short. Why hold back when she might die the next minute?

Ten minutes later, she sat in a large conference room going over notes with Miller Lang, her coworker. Since she and Miller were the only two associates hired in the last three years, everything was a competition in terms of projects and accounts. They ate lunch together occasionally, but only out of professional necessity. Sometimes Daria wondered if his dislike for her was all in her head. But she doubted she imagined that Miller often glared down his thin nose at her. After all, he dripped of old money, and in comparison, she was a peasant.

Miller shifted his owl eyes back to their ledgers and flicked invisible lint off his sleeve. Then he threw her a look of disdain and pointed out a typo in her proposal.

She frowned. No, it wasn’t her imagination. He hated her. Well, the feeling was mutual.

She marked the mistake on her paper and mumbled a ‘thank you.’ But she didn’t feel thankful at all. If she didn’t get promoted to partner, it would be because Miller got it instead.

The miserable hours continued as they pored over the documents. Everything had to be ready for Mr. Burke by the evening. Finally, as the edits neared an end and they had split the workload to a manageable state, her cell phone vibrated. Daria fished it out of her purse.

Hi Daria, it’s Jason. Lunch?

Her heartbeat sped up in anticipation. What a great idea. Things were definitely looking up and she could use the break. A casual lunch meant more time to hang out. And really, she didn’t need to eat. She could stare at him for hours and not feel hungry. Daria smiled and quickly tapped a few buttons on her phone.

Sure. Lobby in 15.

Miller glanced at his watch. “We should work through lunch and just get this done.”

What a thick skull he has
. She managed to keep a groan from escaping, but the expression on her face said it all.

“I take it you don’t want to eat with me?” he asked with a raised brow.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat with you,” she began slowly, “but I have plans.”

“Maybe we can all go together then.”

Wow
.
Did Miller just invite himself to go to lunch?
She’d have to be blunt. “Okay, I don’t want to eat with you,” she said baldly, not bothering to mince words. “It’s kind of a date.”

“What type of guy asks a girl to a lunch date on a Monday?” he smirked. “Besides, I think you should start bringing your lunch. We have a lot of work ahead of us if we get this account.”

She bristled at Miller’s insult of Jason and protested, “It’s a spur of the moment lunch date.”

She ignored the other half of his ridiculous suggestion.
Ugh
. Volatile conversations with Miller fit their normal interaction. Most of the time, it took every ounce of professionalism for her not to sock him.

He didn’t respond, but began to gather up the papers. It appeared he finally took the hint. But when they returned to their offices, it wasn’t long before she saw him slinking around outside. And there really was no other word for it, the way those long limbs of his shuffled from one foot to another.