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There was a slow sigh on the other end of the line. It almost sounded like he was out of breath.
“It is. Miss Matlock, if you’d like me to consider you as a future potential employee, I would advise you not to blow me off when I call you to schedule an appointment.”
My ears rang when I heard that, and I was pretty sure that if I’d taken out my compact mirror and checked, my cheeks would be turning a deep shade of pink. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Lucky for me, because had I been given the opportunity, I would probably have told Jake Ryder where he could stick his appointment right then and there.
“In any case,” said the blowhard on the other end of the line, “would you like to meet today to talk about a job? You came highly recommended to me by my old buddy, Sam.”
“Sure,” I said, not at all sounding enthusiastic. The truth was that the rough, dark voice on the other end of the phone had completely stunned me into a monotone. “Where shall we meet?”
“Where are you now?” said Jake. He sounded out of breath. Weird, but I guessed that he’d have some private gym or something in his place. It would certainly fit the billionaire entrepreneur lifestyle.
“Uh … as a matter of fact, I’m in Lincoln Park right now,” I said, uneasily. I didn’t want to sound like I’d been stalking him, but at the same time, I knew very well that I probably had.
“Oh really?” said Jake. “That’s interesting. So am I. Where are you?”
“I’m … near, uh, the Grant monument,” I said, looking around and seeing the horseback-mounted statue ahead of me.
“Terrific,” said Jake. “I’ll meet you there in three minutes.”
“Uh … I … okay,” I said. He hung up.
I pulled off the beanie and took out that mirror, desperately trying to straighten out my hair. I was right about my cheeks after all.
I walked down the boulevard to where I was up close to the statue. Grant sat on his horse on the enormous, railed pedestal. It was a busy day at the park and there were plenty of people around, especially now that a few rays of sunshine were beginning to warm things up. I turned around and saw Lake Michigan, gray and still in the distance.
“Good morning, Miss Matlock,” said a voice from above me.
I wheeled around. Up above, leaning on the railings of the pedestal was a tall, broad, strong-shouldered man. He was muscular but not too bulky, but he looked strong. I could tell that just from his athletic, powerful legs. Dressed in a gray sweatshirt and a pair of shorts, he was looking down on me, his attractive body and striking green eyes framed by the statue behind him.
“Jake Ryder,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Chapter 2
Jake
AliciaMatlockwasn’texactlywhat I expected from a prospective flight attendant. And I didn’t have to use any business savvy to figure that out.
First, she wasn’t very punctual. While I was able to sprint the remainder of my six-mile run and be at the Grant statue in three minutes, it took Alicia well over five to wander around to where I was waiting for her, breathing hard in my sweatshirt and shorts while leaning against the railing by the memorial. I’d climbed up onto the pedestal, so when I saw her arrive and stare dumbfounded past me, I laughed and waved. “Good morning, Miss Matlock,” I called. Alicia stopped and stared up at me, as I leaned over the rails. “Jake Ryder,” I said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Jake?” she said, a little foolishly. “You …You’reMr. Ryder?”
“The very same,” I replied, amused at her confused facial expression. “Get lost on the way here?” A flash of annoyance crossed her lips but was quickly replaced with surprise as her eyes lingered on me and my attire. I wasn’t surprised to see her look at my powerful legs when she thought I wasn’t looking. The shorts left little to the imagination.
Secondly, she wasn’t (at first sight) presentable enough to be a flight attendant. After I jogged down from the pedestal to shake her hand, I noticed she was wearing an old, knitted sweater and a beanie, and dressed in a pair of jeans. “I trust,” I said, as we walked on over to North Clark Street, “that this isn’t how you typically present yourself aboard an aircraft.”
“Of course not,” said Alicia, tossing her light brown hair around her shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”
“You weren’t?” I asked. “So how come you were in the neighborhood?”
“I was out walking,” she replied, cagily. I knew better than to fall for that. As I knew, Sam and Alicia had lived in Chicago their whole lives. She knew better than to brave Lincoln Park on a Saturday when it was full of screaming kids and their parents. I was only there myself because the wide-open boulevards made for a much nicer run than the cramped city streets on a cold winter’s day. There was no doubt that she was up there because Sam had gotten back last night and told her that I wanted to meet with her.
“I’ll bet,” I said, as we crossed the road. As we did, she walked in front of me, and I admired her attractive body, her slender waist, curvy hips, and the confident swish of her shoulders. Alicia Matlock couldn’t help exuding glamour, even though she might be dressed down.
When we got to the other side of the crosswalk, she turned, and for the first time, I was able to look at her face. Her bright blue eyes were striking, and her face had a soft, feminine shape. But despite that, there was a glow of something strong and dependable in her. I could see that her parents hadn’t raised a princess. The practical young woman in front of me was a few years younger, for sure. But she raised all kinds of feelings in me. “So, are we going to your place?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’m just up here, on the left.”
“I’ll be honest,” quipped Alicia, “I’ve never been to anyone’s house for a job interview before. Seemed a little sketchy when Sam mentioned it to me.”
