The Proposal (5 page)

Sounding serious all of a
sudden, he answered, "No. Only when needed.”

Okay. She wasn't sure
exactly what his line of work entailed but she didn't want to discuss any of
that now.

"So you
rang."  Trying to get the conversation back onto normal ground again.

"I waited for you to
call. Thought we were getting together to get our stories right." 
Damn. She had forgotten. It was Tuesday and they only had two days to confer.
She had been so busy with the mountains of work Sandra had thrown her way, she
hadn't even thought about getting together with Ethan. Come to think of it, she
never had much time for anything or anyone else because work consumed so much
of her life. She liked that he had called her though. She liked even more that
he wanted to get together.

"Tonight, " she
said quickly. The thought of meeting up tonight, with Ethan, appealed to her
very much. "Can you meet tonight?"

He groaned. He had a job
lined up with a rich divorcee. It was a regular weekly thing. Antonia Rios,
fifty eight years old, rich and recently divorced. Her husband had traded her
in for a twenty three year old Czechoslovakian airhead with the legs of a
giraffe. Antonia was decent. Unlike some of the others who demanded extras,
extras which he did not provide, She only wanted an evening of nice company;
someone to talk to and someone who would listen to her. She wanted someone who
would make her feel she was worth it. And for now, Ethan was that man. He
could cancel Antonia and make an excuse. It could so easily be done. But he
felt a sense of obligation to her, even though there was no commitment.

He didn't want to let
that nice lady down.  "Sorry, I can't do tonight. Would tomorrow
work?"

Pilates or Ethan? Nadine
didn't have to think too long. "Tomorrow's good.  Where do you want
to meet?"  She felt a surge of excitement already.

"So, is...this...a
date?" he asked, in that teasing, slow voice of his.

She felt herself looking
forward to it and enjoyed his teasing too.

"Oh, honey, of
course this is a date. Where are you taking me?" she asked in as sexy a
voice as she could muster.

"Leave that to me.
I'll pick you up at seven."

"Sounds good, can't
wait."  Nadine put the phone down and felt her heart pounding wildly
but the sharp, pungent scent of Poison perfume, heralded the arrival of Sandra
Donnelly. No sooner had the first blasts of the perfume hit Nadine’s nose than
she found Sandra  standing in front of her. The effect had wiped any hint
of a smile off Nadine’s face. She had no idea how long Sandra had been standing
there or what she had heard.  Was it her mind playing tricks or was there
a little touch of wistfulness on Sandra's face?

"Ethan," said
Nadine, unsure what exactly to say, but she noted the quick look of surprise on
Sandra's face.

"I can't wait to
meet him," Sandra snapped. "Zimmerman wants to see the budget
breakdown for the last quarter. Have you done it?" Her sharp, angular
movements made her symmetrically perfect bob move in sharp angular movements,
almost mechanical, robotic even.

Reminding herself to
pause a few seconds before she spoke, in case she said the wrong thing, Nadine
inhaled deeply before responding. "Well Sandra, as you know, I would have
had them done, but you gave me the Churchill proposal to look over yesterday
afternoon. So, you tell me, what takes precedence and I'll work on
that." 

 Sandra Donnelly
looked at Nadine with her beady eyes
.

The little upstart
.
How dare she talk to me like that?

She tightened her bright
red lips together so that it looked like a half smile and half wince and said,
"Get the budget figures done. I need them for a meeting tomorrow with
Zimmerman."

Nadine ventured a reply.
"Of course. Though you could always do the budget figures yourself - if
you need them that badly." Where she got the courage to say that she
didn't know.

But even Sandra was
surprised. "Nadine, Nadine," said Sandra slowly. She walked over
to Nadine's desk and raised herself as high as she could. Sandra was a
diminutive woman, no more than five foot two, but her fearsome personality
and terrifying manner always gave her the countenance of a much bigger person. 
"I'm a
very, very
busy woman.  That's why I have to hand over
some of my tasks to you. Now, if you're struggling with the workload, perhaps
this job is too much for you?"

"It's not too much
at all, Sandra. Leave it to me." Nadine said tightly.

Sandra turned around on
her shiny, high stiletto heels and scuttled off.

She was like a little
bulldog, a small powerhouse of strength, and one to be avoided at all
costs. 

*         
*          *

Exactly at seven o'clock
the next day, the bell rang and Nadine rushed to answer it. She had downplayed
her outfit, opting for a pair of skinny jeans with a loose shirt. She still
wanted to look good, but not look as though she had made an effort. And she had
achieved that look effortlessly tonight. She opened the door to a breathlessly handsome
Ethan. Even in his black jeans and dark gray shirt he looked rough yet smart.
She didn't notice the clothes as much as she noticed his tousled thick brown
hair and his now bright blue eyes. They were different colors depending on when
she looked into them. The dark of his clothes bought out the bright intensity
of his blue eyes. She felt herself melting as she uttered a casual
"Hey."

"You ready?" he
asked graciously. "Shall we go, he's waiting. Sorry its not a limo."
He waved to the yellow cab standing outside.

"I don't need limos,
Ethan." She grabbed her jacket and handbag and followed him to the cab.
Half an hour later they were sitting in a vibrant Thai restaurant in downtown San Francisco. The sweet aroma of coconut, lemongrass and ginger filled the air as waiters
carried steaming hot plates of food from table to table. Watching her soaking
up the atmosphere Ethan sat back on the brown leather seat and commented,
"I thought you might like it here."

"How did you know I
liked Thai food?" she asked him, inhaling the beautiful aromas all around
her.

"The hen-night. The
snacks you served. Dead give away."

She remembered and
smiled. "How observant of you."

"I have to be,"
he said lazily, watching her more intently, "after all, we're lovers,
right?"  The sentence jolted her out of her semi-safe relaxed zone,
but it also awoke in her a feeling of what it might feel like if this were not
a setup. If this was really the way things were.

He was starting to flirt
with her and she knew it. The thought of a naked Ethan in her bed rushed
through her head. "Two years," she said, trying to remove the image
imprinted on her mind.

He shrugged his
shoulders, "We've been together two years?"  He picked up his
bottle of beer and made a toast. "To our two years together." 
And he waited for her to pick up her glass of Pinot Gris.

She clinked her glass
with his bottle.

Nadine put her glass to
her lips, before saying, "Two years indeed."

"Where did we
meet?" He asked curiously

"Through a
friend."

"What friend?"
he pressed, "Yours or mine?"

"Let's keep it
simple. We don't want too many white lies we need to hide behind. We met
through my sister at a dinner party I had at my house."

"Got it." 
He grinned that cheeky grin of his.  “Oh,
that
dinner party.” She
knew what he was thinking. 

And as soon as he said
it, she had visions of him bare chested and coming towards her, as he had done,
in the lounge on the hen night. He was teasing her, reminding her and as much
as she tried to stop thinking about it, she liked to remember that night. It
was more than that though, she was starting to wonder what it would have been
like to let him lead her to the floor and rub oil all over him. But then the
image of other women doing that put her off. The thought that this was what he
did for a living, somehow repelled her. Even though he said he wasn't a
stripper, he was an escort and she wasn't sure exactly what
services
he
did offer.

"What’s up?” He
asked, his face softening. He wondered what had made her switch from happy to
downcast so quickly.  But before she could answer, their food arrived; hot
steaming plates of Thai seafood and noodles. They ate hungrily.

"When's your
birthday?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. He seemed
younger than her and she dreaded to think by how much.

"Eleventh of March,
nineteen eighty two.  Yours?"

"Thirty?" she
almost breathed a huge sigh of relief. She had him down for around twenty
seven.  "So you'll be thirty one soon?"

He laughed. She had a
feeling he'd had this kind of conversation with other women before. "Not
for another eight months. Yours?"

"Twenty eighth of
December nineteen seventy seven. I'm almost thirty five.  I'll save you
working it out." She toyed with her noodles.

Slightly hurt he asked,
"You think I can't work it out myself?"

Alarmed, she rushed to
quell the damage, "No, no, not that at all. Sorry, I kind of don't like
talking about my age. Not to younger men. But, you're not as young as I
thought." 

He'd forgotten how
obsessed women were with their ages and the whole aging process in
general.  He could forgive this lady for being too sensitive.  He
shrugged his shoulders, as if to brush the conversation off and slurped up his
noodles.  They carried on eating in silence.

They sat around for over
two hours, talking easily and finding that they enjoyed each other’s company.

Later, when the cab
pulled up outside her house, he walked her to the door.

"I had a really nice
time tonight," he said, as she turned the key in the lock and opened the
door. Nadine's face was flushed and she felt so happy and light inside. Her
eyes twinkled in the light of the door lamp. He just had to reach forward and
he could have kissed her.

Her heart shaped mouth
was tempting. But he made sure he didn't make a move towards her.

She glanced at him and
wondered if he felt the same . "Me too,” she murmured. “It was almost like
a real date.” She attempted to laugh, to make a joke of it. But he was watching
her with a solemn face.

"Almost." he
whispered, staring into her eyes before his gaze flickered briefly to her full
lips.

He said goodbye
begrudgingly – the hint of longing ever present in his eyes. He moved towards
her and brushed his lips against the side of her face, ever so lightly. She
responded by moving into him, just a fraction, but it was a change he noted.

Neither of them was sure
what to do next and they found themselves standing so close and facing each
other.

This is a business
proposal only
, Nadine told
herself.

"Goodnight,"
she whispered then, in a low voice. Without looking at him she stepped into her
house and closed the door behind her.

The full moon was
exceptionally bright and cast its silver shadow over the whole street, lighting
it up and bathing everything in its silvery glow.

She's just a client,
Ethan reminded himself and he walked back to the waiting cab.

Unable to sleep properly
since Wednesday night, Nadine struggled to get on with the last minute tasks
that Sandra had piled on her.

With Melissa's help she
had managed to finish everything and had worked from home on Friday morning.
The reason for her sleep deprivation came to her at night every time she closed
her eyes. Ethan. He appeared in her thoughts constantly.

She thought of him on her
doorstep that evening after dinner, when he had brushed his lips gently against
her face and her heart had melted. If she had been a woman of lesser willpower,
if she had been more assertive when it came to men, she would have dragged him
inside and let him make mad passionate love to her.

Not that this would ever
have happened in a million years. Nadine Stefano just did not operate in that
way. But in her mind, her fantasies took shape and she imagined doing all the
things that Nadine would never do in real life.

Even loyal and
hard-working Melissa had noticed Nadine becoming slightly scatty. She seemed to
have lost her usual sharp and focused self.

"Too much work,
that's what it is," Nadine assured Melissa one day when Melissa asked her
if she was alright.

The work she could
handle. Her feelings for Ethan she could not.

She liked it when he
teased her and often times she couldn’t be sure if he was playing with her or
being serious. She had a hunch that he found her to be rather prudish at times.

These were the things
that were occupying her mind more than the creative artwork she should have
been concentrating on.