Читать книгу Sparks - Dara Girard - Страница 12

He was a riddle set to music, Dawn thought as she sat in front of Taylor at the Little Tavern Greek restaurant. Jazz? No. There was no unrestraint or animation to him. Classical wouldn’t suit either. There was too much soul burning beneath the surface. Country? He was certainly a transplant to the Washington Metropolitan area. He had a slow, thoughtful manner, a definite contrast to the fast pace of the city, and a hint of a carefully tempered southern drawl. But he wasn’t that nor rock or R&B.

She couldn’t pinpoint him. Dawn continued to study him behind her menu; she’d been sneaking glances at him since they’d first met. Had he not been a man, she would have called him beautiful, but his contradictions got in the way of such a simple description. Everything looked dwarfed around him. The chair he was sitting in looked like a toy, yet he moved with grace. He had a thin top lip as though drawn by a ruler, but his bottom lip was full and sensuous. She wondered if that feature annoyed him.

His eyes were a surprise. When his gaze first fell on her face she’d taken an involuntary step back. She had expected dark-brown eyes, but his were light-brown. They looked the color of biscuits just pulled out of the oven. However, they didn’t reveal much. Not warmth or coldness—nothing. She couldn’t say the same for his voice. It betrayed a number of emotions in one word. That’s when she knew how to describe him. He was an opera, bold, majestic, and enthralling.

She moved her gaze from his face to admire her surroundings. Large mirrors in gilded gold frames, hung on blue brocade wallpaper, reminiscent of an old Victorian mansion. Miniature votive candles were strategically placed next to the white china, and gold leaf cutlery was set on white linen tablecloths. In the middle of the table, fresh pink roses added a delightful fragrance. He had great taste in restaurants. Unfortunately, all she could think of at that moment was that the dinner was going to be a huge payment on her credit card.

“Are you ready to order?” Jordan asked.

Dawn returned her gaze to the menu. “I’m still looking.”

“Take your time. Do you mind if I order?”

“No. Go right ahead.”

He turned to the waiter and placed his order. Dawn listened with interest then disbelief as he ordered two appetizers, an entrée with three side dishes and dessert. “Bring it all at once,” he said, closing the menu with a snap. He looked at Dawn and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes.” She hastily glanced down at her menu. She didn’t know what she was looking at. The only words that looked familiar were gyro and moussaka. She ran her hand down the selection of choices, pretending to know what she was doing. She didn’t want to spend money on something she couldn’t eat.

“Should I come back?” the waiter asked.

Dawn turned a page. “Umm…”

“I think you should get the pastitsio,” Jordan said. “Do you like pasta?”

She looked at him relieved. “Yes, that’s right. I’ll have the pas…that.” She handed the waiter the menu and watched him leave. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dawn wrung the napkin in her lap. Now that they had placed their orders she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tease him about his large request, but he didn’t look the type that took teasing well. Instead she looked at the tablecloth until she could see the fine stitching.

She had to concentrate. He was a potential client. She wouldn’t think of him as a man. She looked up from the table and saw him glancing at a couple smiling at their baby.

“Do you know them?” she asked surprised by his intense look.

He shifted his gaze to her, and Dawn gripped her hands in her lap wondering when she’d get used to his piercing stare. “No. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just curious.”

He glanced at the couple again. Dawn watched amazed as a cool red color washed over his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You look a little flushed. If you need them to turn down the temperature I’m sure they would—”

His gaze stopped her. “I’m fine.” He glanced at the couple again.

She swallowed her tea. “They have a cute baby.”

His eyes met hers. “Yes,” he said in a neutral tone. “Do you like children?”

She clumsily set her teacup down. “Yes.”

“Planning on having any?”

“Not any time soon.”

“You can’t wait forever,” he said with an ironic twist to his words. “You wouldn’t want to suddenly get desperate.”

“No.”

He leaned back and watched her. “I’m sure that right now your career comes first. A husband and baby would get in the way.”

Dawn frowned, unnerved by the bitterness she detected in his voice. “I assure you, that if the right man comes along he wouldn’t be in my way and we’d raise the child together. Many couples do that.”

“Yes, but nowadays most women don’t need a husband, right? You can make your own money and rear your own kids. You just need the sperm and then you’re on your way. Men are disposable.”

She sipped her tea.

He stared at her for a moment until she squirmed in her seat. “No reply?” he said. “Aren’t you going to defend your sex?”

“Why reply to someone who has already made up his mind?”

He looked at her, surprised, then embarrassed. “You’re right. I apologize.” He folded his arms. “So, who else have you worked with?”

“David Schelling.”

“Who?”

“My dentist. His practice was failing until I helped him.”

“I see.”

“I also worked with the Tantland Pet Hotel. You can trust me to help you.”

“I want to bring The Medical Institute up to current standards. Introduce the latest technologies, and set it apart. I want it to be known for excellence.”

Dawn readied herself. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She was prepared. She moved her bread dish aside, and set her portfolio on the table and opened it. She handed Jordan a color brochure and business card. “With my help I can make that dream a reality. As a consultant, what I do first is to meet with you to discuss what you want done. During this initial meeting, I will evaluate and assess what you have currently, and what changes, and or modifications will need to be done, in order to achieve your intended goal.