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She looks as though she’s going to say something, but I catch her off guard by pushing forward with my left foot, taking her backward. I pivot her slowly across the hardwood in time to the music. Once in a while, my shoes squeal like I’m on a basketball court, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
With every turn, she leans farther back into my hand and her body softens. She looks different. She’s so elegant and regal, even in my joggers and an oversized top. Dylan stays on her toes even in those sneakers she wore the night we met. She lets me think I’m leading. I know I am for the most part.
The song gives us the last few notes. I know they’re coming. I slowly turn her under my arm twice then pull her in tight. We stand there just barely breathing hard, unmoving. She pulls the fabric of my sweatshirt into her hand and finally looks into my eyes.
“You played me, Goose. Where did you learn to dance like that?”
“Mom and Gran. Not that anyone outside my house knows, but I could waltz before I went to prep school. I know just enough about every ballroom dance to be dangerous.”
“It’s extremely sexy. I like a man who knows how to move.”
“You knew I could already.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I should go.”
“You want to leave?”
“No. I don’t. If I don’t though, I might never. I’m scared of how intense this feels between us.”
“I can think of a thousand other ways to be scared. We’ll get to those in time.”
I take a long, cold shower before I go to bed alone. I can still smell her on my pillow after two days. Rolling to my stomach, pulling her scent into my arms, I go over my game plan for the interviews. I have five in total for three spots, four really. Dylan will get one of them, no matter what.
She’s perfect for the slot; no one could argue her grades, obvious passion, and talent. The bonus of her working at AnSa is twofold. She’ll be close to me most of the week and we won’t lose her to a rival. I know where her heart is. She is like me in many ways. A difference in one person’s life is all that we need to be happy. That will make her successful in this industry when, and if, she chooses it. I want to see to it that when the stage lights fall, she will rise on the other side just as bright.
Yet another Sunday night without much sleep. I’m awake before my five thirty alarm, with my arms still wrapped aroundthe pillow. My brain is already on overload. How will today go? Will Skye have the same opinions I do about the hires? Will Dylan agree to work with us? Will she be attracted to the work version of me, which is very different from what she’s seen? I guess there’s only one way to know the answers to all these questions.
My run is longer today than I intended. David was in the park for an early morning game with his partner in crime. It had been a few weeks since we’d crossed paths. It was nice to take twenty minutes to catch up with him. He keeps sipping on his coffee but peering over the top of the cup. I’d ask him what he’s staring at, but I already know.
The steam from my morning shower helps soothe the ongoing dull ache I have. My tie is still woefully crooked as I lock up and run for the subway. I am not the look of a corporate executive today, that’s for damn sure. Anna takes one look at me as I breeze past her desk at quarter past eight and laughs.
“If I didn’t know what day of the week it was, all I’d have to do is look at you.”
“Very funny, Anna. I know it’s not in your job description, but can you help fix this thing around my neck, so I don’t look like an idiot for these interviews?”
“Okay, Eli, you need to calm down. I’ve padded your calendar this morning because I know you. The Monroe meeting is pushed until eleven. You have the first intern at nine thirty, the second at ten fifteen. I’ve ordered lunch in so you can breathe, then you have the last three back-to-back from one to three thirty, with our meeting at four to go over the final details for the quarterly tomorrow morning, and your call agenda for your new client tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got the outlines done to get your new hires up to speed, so all you have to do is relax and pick them.” While this pep talk is going on, she’s managed to make my tie perfect.
“What would I do without you?”
“I hope you never have to find out. The files for tomorrow are loaded on your desktop for anything you need. I swapped your normal espresso for tea today, so drink it. You have thirty minutes until your meeting with Jack. So, settle in, it’s Monday.”
“Thank you, Anna.”
As she leaves, I do just that. I take a deep breath and go to my Zen place, as Hayley would put it. I dock my cell on my wireless charger and put my headset on. Here goes Monday.
The day goes by in a whirl. My father came in first thing and took copies of the intern résumés out of pure interest. I’m anxious to hear what his thoughts are, purely from the papers. He also had an update for the Monroe meeting, which was critical.
The intern candidates were a kaleidoscope of personalities. Everyone on paper should have been a fit. Some, as always happens, were not. My first one was bright, chipper, and eager. She’s definitely in the running. The second and third were fine but tentative. They were not advocating enough for themselves. If you can’t sell yourself, how can you market a brand?
That left me with Levi, who in all honesty, reminds me of me about ten years ago and finally, Dylan, who was on her way back. The chill that had been around all day quickly vanishes with a knock at my door. I quickly clear my throat and rise from my desk. “Come in.”
I expect Anna to come in, but Dylan is there and she’s alone. “Hello, Mr. Sawyer. Your assistant said I could come back.”
“Yes. Yes, please, Miss Cooper. Come in and close the door.”
The door latches and the temperature rises nearly ten degrees in an instant. I was so in my head about what differences she’d see in me, it didn’t dawn on me what she would come in like.
I want it on record that, while I would cross the desert to remove her from a dance bra and leggings, what I see before meis infinitely better than that. Dylan appears in a form fitting navy suit, with the skirt long and lean hitting just at her knee. The single-breasted jacket hugs every curve she has and sits right at her waist. The pop of color across her breasts is the same seafoam color as the pillows in her apartment.
Her normally wild blonde hair is tamed into a sleek ballerina bun at the base of her neck, with a few stray hairs wisping around the subtle bronze glow of her cheeks. My eyes can’t turn away from the glossy pink fullness that is her lips.Dear God, don’t look at her feet. Stay away from the feet until this interview is over.
