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I was thinking about ducking out early on Thursday so I could get my hair cut. Whether or not I needed to get the car washed; should I bring flowers?—I had to stop myself there ’cause I knew I was tripping. I was excited and apprehensive at the same time. I felt stimulated when everything around me was totally uninspiring.

And the reason was Natasha Edwards.

“Where were you today?” My boss, Jack Reynolds, asked at the end of the first day.

Of course my mind was elsewhere, so I was startled by his sudden appearance in my face. “What do you mean?” I asked and stepped back a little, because I don’t like men in my face.

He took a step back because he knows that I don’t like men in my face and just shook his head. “Wherever your head is, I need it back in the game. We got too much riding on today.”

As Jack stormed off, I understood clearly that to mean bonuses.

Day two was a better day for both me and the company, and I was able to stay focused on the task at hand. Sorta. So when the topic of the meeting was conducting due diligence investigations of client companies, I kept myself from thinking about the way Natasha says my name. And when the discussion changed to improving ways for stakeholders, management, and implementation partners to prioritize requirements, raise issues, identify obstacles, and recommend options to ensure success, I was fully engaged and definitely not thinking about Natasha’s exotic eyes or the way her soft lips looked when she spoke.

When Jack was talking about price, distribution and other transactions, and wanted suggestions to improve revenue, I was all over it for him.

“Glad to have you back today, Victor,” Jack said, giving me two thumbs up.

“That’s a fact, Jack,” I said, returning the thumbs up, before I went back to replaying every second of the time I got to spend with her. So, by the end of the day, when the subject was boring-ass research and structure transactions and price of securities, I appeared fully-engaged, but all I could think about was getting out of there so I could see her again. I practically ran to the elevator, and was mad that it wasn’t there waiting for me.

“Big plans for tonight, Victor?” Homer Swain said to me.

“Huh?” I said once again, startled by somebody’s sudden appearance in my space.

“The way you were rushing to get to the elevator, I just thought . . .”

“Nothing special,” I lied, since it was really none of his business. “Just ready to get outta here.”

The elevator opened and we got in. “Did you hear all the talk about low profitability and insufficient revenue?”

“What talk?”

Homer frowned. “Where have you been the last couple of days? That’s all everybody’s been talking about. Well, privately anyway.”

I had other more important things on my mind, so I hadn’t gotten into many, if any at all, of the type of private conversations he was talking about. “Like what?”

“All that talk about loan growth,” he began. “Word is that some of it is risky.” And then he went on to say something about specialization and turnover-driven strategies, and neglecting margins. Homer’s lips were moving, but I was barely listening because I was thinking about whether it was even appropriate for me to be going out with Natasha. I try never to get involved with women that are in committed relationships with a man. Too much drama. But despite all that, here I am.

“Lower margins are not promising,” was all I could come up with as the elevator opened.

“No, Victor, it damn sure ain’t. Have a good night, buddy.”

“See you in the morning,” I said, and gave no more thought to what he was saying, and my mind returned to thoughts of Natasha and the fact that I would get to see her very soon.

I arrived a few minutes early at Seasons 52 for dinner with Natasha. Once I found a parking spot, I got out of my car and walked toward the restaurant. I looked around to see if I saw Natasha’s car in the lot, and hoped that I didn’t see it. I want to make a good impression, so being late was not an option.

Not tonight.

As I walked I gave some thought to how I’ve conducted myself since . . . since the second I saw Natasha. And honestly, I gotta share something with you: I have never done anything like this. Let’s see, since I saw her, I’ve had to negotiate with Vanessa to introduce me to her, then I kissed her hand and schemed on a way to talk to her, and I did it all in front of her man; which was disrespectful on so many levels.

Then I see her again and I am overjoyed. I was trying to be cool, but on the inside I’m jumping up and down. My legs got weak when she opened her mouth and her voice danced in my ear. I touched her hand by chance and my heart beat faster. I leaned against the car next to her and it sent chills all over my body. I look at her lips and they scream “Kiss me, Victor.”

Like right now, I’m nervous. Standing here, right now, outside this restaurant, I am nervous about seeing her again; nervous about everything about us. And the problem with that is, I’ve never felt this way about seeing any woman.

Chapter Four

When I saw her car drive by and she waved at me, my hands started shaking from the excitement. I balled my fists and willed them to stop. Natasha parked, and I watched as she opened the car door and her leg appeared. First one; then the other. She was wearing a dress and my hands started shaking again. I watched her walk toward me. Her sleek legs were sheathed in silk. Her black pumps emphasized the contours of her calves.

“Hello, Natasha.”

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