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Daniel held up a pair of scissors and asked, “I asked if you were keen on keeping those panties?”
“Oh. Well, actually, if at all possible,” she admitted with a wry grin. “I found them in a specialty shop in North York which, unfortunately, has since gone out of business.”
“Ah,” he said, adding sarcastically, “Don’t want to go to the interview without your lucky underwear.”
She gave a humorous snort. “Hardly. But you never know. Maybe after today—”
“No job is that important.”
“Oh, but this one is.” Her brows puckered as she pleaded for understanding. “His bar is about the only one in town that uses a live band instead of a DJ. This could finally be the break I need.”
“Did he promise you a chance to perform?” His words and tone of voice reminded her of a reprimanding father. She didn’t like it one bit. It had been a long time since she bothered to listen to anything her father had to say. Or ever would. Particularly on the matter of commitment.
Turning sharply on her heel, she held out the zipper to him. “Can we get this over with? I’m going to be late.”
Daniel sighed again before moving to stand behind her. He allowed his eyes to slide beneath her lace panties where his hands were not allowed to go, and groaned silently before he snatched the zipper between his fingers and snipped the lacy material free from its teeth.
She yelped and spun around, her eyes huge with anger. “Why did you do that?”
“Believe it or not, conflict is actually a positive addition to our lives. It acts as a reaction mass and induces our survival hormones to be released which in turn creates adrenaline to pump—”
“Daniel!”
He offered her a careless shrug. “Didn’t want to be blamed for dousing your adrenaline.”
“Ass,” she muttered, clutching the torn garment behind her lovely backside and marched out of his apartment.
Grinning, he turned back into his apartment to the unfinished computer program he abandoned earlier to answer the door. He dropped onto the stool in front of the computer and stared at the monitor blankly. He had to surf his memory to try and recall where he had left off, which was no easy task considering his mind was completely absorbed with the image of a smooth and rounded, and very female bottom.
* * *
Sonya tossed her damaged underpants into the wastebasket and cursed Daniel for being so inconsiderate. After snatching another pair from her top drawer, she quickly slid them on.
Her lucky underwear. She grinned at that. Maybe Daniel was right. Maybe she needed some luck today. All other attempts thus far had failed.
Oh, she just wasn’t referring to Tristan Manning, even though she tried every seduction trick she could conceive. But her career move as well. It was one of
the hardest professions to break into.
All the music industries she approached refused to listen to her demo. Even landing a job that constituted any form of singing was not headed her way. She had done her sweep of jobs. The latest being a waitress at a five-star restaurant. Pay wasn’t bad, but the tips were fantastic. Enough, anyway, to help pay the rent in her Toronto west-end apartment.
When she heard about the job posting at Tristan’s bar, she approached him emphatically. He seemed generally pleased by her interest and filled her in on the job requirements, telling her take-home pay would probably surpass her present income. His clientele were a very generous and lucrative group.
Admittedly, it was a deciding factor in wanting the job. Having a chance to perform live on his stage, a definite key factor. But, in all honesty, a chance to get close to Tristan Manning. Now, if she could only trigger his interest, she was certain she would have that man in her bed by the end of the week.
Satisfied with her appearance she snatched her clutch bag and slid her feet into her thee inch sling-back sandals. Giving the lock on her apartment door a turn, she then pivoted with the intent on sauntering down to the elevators, but stopped to look at Daniel’s door.
She reached up and knocked quickly three times. It was her nerves. That explained it. She didn’t need anyone’s reassurance. And certainly not a man’s. She was simply more nervous than normal.
Daniel rolled his eyes heavenward at the sound of the knock. No doubt it was Sonya again. He wanted very much to be a part of her life, but not this way. He didn’t want to play second fiddle to Tristan Manning. Or anyone.
“What now?” He knew he probably looked slightly annoyed but didn’t bother to cover it up.
“Lord, you sound like I interrupted something important—or something like that.” She waved off his irritation, not able to fathom his fascination with a computer screen.
Releasing a weary breath, he shoved his glasses up his nose. “Or something like that. My intern starts tomorrow, I want to be caught up.”
From the glee in her eyes, he knew she hadn’t heard a word he said as she asked instead, “How do I look?”
