“Dining in or out is okay with me. You decide. I’m excited about seeing you.”
Dakota’s last statement made Ethan feel good inside. He was excited, too, more than she knew. “Call you tomorrow with the details. Cool?”
“Noon is a good time to call my cell. There’s a long break between classes. What was your day like?” Dakota asked.
“Crazy, like all my days are. I love my job, but my students are a handful. I have several outspoken ones, mainly the females. Getting them to stop talking long enough to listen to me is a daunting task. They usually have the last word.”
“I find that one hard to believe, Ethan. To me, you seem like a man in control.”
“I wish I was more in control in these instances. Sparring with these particular sisters can wear down a brother.” Ethan chuckled. “Sometimes I just want them to stop talking before I stop breathing.”
“Well, in that case, I don’t want you to stop breathing on me. I’d love for you to stick around.”
“That was sweet of you, Dakota. I want to continue hanging out with you. But I’ll let you go.”
“Have a good night, Ethan. I’ll look forward to your call.”
“Me, too. Good night.”
Ethan suddenly felt displeased with himself. There were specific questions he wanted to ask Dakota, but once again, he’d held back. Being clueless about her and who she was and why she kept him at a safe distance wouldn’t set them on the right track. Snatching up the receiver, he hit the redial button, sure she hadn’t gone to sleep that fast.
“It’s me again. Can we talk? I mean really talk?”
Dakota felt apprehension creeping in. “Is something wrong? What is it?”
“I don’t know. I feel so damn good when I’m with you, but everything doesn’t feel right. Is there something about me you’re uncomfortable with? If so, I’d like to know what it is. Something’s standing between us. What can it be?”
Contemplating her response, Dakota pressed her trembling fingers into her lips. “You’re right. I’m standing in between us and so are my past experiences. I’m afraid of getting my heart broken again. Can you guarantee me that that won’t happen with you?”
“I wish I could. I think you know better than that. Please tell me what happened. Maybe it’ll start the healing process.”
Dakota blew out a stream of shaky breath. “What happened to me occurred months ago. The betrayal still feels current. A couple of gal pals betrayed me in ways I’d never stoop so low to return the favor. One of my so-called best girlfriends, Lori Taylor, had taken up with my boyfriend, Everett Washington, while we were still dating. They’d been going at each other long before I found out.”
Ethan heard the raw pain in her voice. “That’s the toughest kind of heartbreak.”
Dakota knew worse heartaches, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him. “I was having a hard time when we met. I’ve been through a lot of stuff. Two people I trusted most disappointed me deeply.”
“You mentioned a couple of gal pals. Who was the other one?”
“Mercy Winters claimed to be a best friend. She stole convenience checks sent to me by my credit card company and tried to cash one for a big sum, which would’ve gone against my card. Suspicious of the check, her bank took the appropriate action. It’s a long story. I was stunned when she wasn’t prosecuted. It was simply put on her credit report that she’d committed check fraud. Yet another bitter disappointment to deal with.”
“Everyone who calls themselves friend doesn’t always meet the criteria. Do you still have feelings for the guy who hurt you?”
“None whatsoever. I’m cautious. Maybe overly cautious, but it has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you. I believe you’re trustworthy.”
Ethan was glad she wasn’t harboring feelings for the heartbreaker. That wouldn’t have felt so good to learn. “So tell me what I need to do to get closer to you and to help you get through the bad stuff, past and present.”
“Patience is all that I ask of you. Is that doable?”
“Absolutely. I want us to get to know each other on a deeply personal level. Then we’ll feel free to talk more about our triumphs and the challenges we face. I want you to be able to talk to me about anything. Problems aren’t ever resolved with silence.”
Persia listened to George with total disinterest. Her day had been tiring and all she wanted to do was get home and sleep. Soon after he’d asked her name, the client started in on his wife by whining and complaining about her expecting him to be superman.
“She’s certainly no superwoman. The lady is horrible in bed and she never wants to try anything new. The same position every time gets old. She’s boring when it comes to creativity. She’s so scared the children will hear what goes on. The master is downstairs and the three kids sleep upstairs. They can’t hear a thing.”
“Do you still love her?”
The caller paused, as if caught off guard by the pointed question. While thinking about his response, he scratched his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife. It’s just that she’s such a prude. But why talk about my wife?”
“At least say something kind about her. She’s the mother of your three kids. You brought up your wife to me, remember?”
“I did, didn’t I? But why do you care whether I respect my wife or not? You’re not respecting her by talking sexy to her husband over the phone.”
Persia knew she hadn’t said one sexy word to George. He had yet to give her an opportunity. Besides that, she preferred to let the callers set the stage and choose the subject matter for the conversations. “Hey, you dialed my number.” She bit down on her tongue.
In the silence, she wondered if she’d said too much.
“Have you ever thought about becoming a marriage counselor, Persia? I think you’d make a good one,” George remarked, sounding downright stupid and not caring.
Persia scowled. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“Guys just need to blow off a head of steam at times. My wife is a real good homemaker. She’s crazy about the kids.” He paused. “Do you think I’m wrong for calling phone-sex lines?”
George had put himself on a guilt trip, Persia thought. He already knew he was dead wrong. No one had to tell him that either. And it certainly wasn’t her place to enlighten him. She was in the business to meet her obligations, not to lose clients. If she told him he was wrong and he stopped calling, she’d lose a client and a good chunk of change. Persia couldn’t afford it.
“Are you still there?” George asked, sounding anxious.
With impatience rising in her again, Persia sighed inwardly. “I’m here. Do you want to keep up with this conversation or are you ready to get it on?”
George paused again for a couple of moments. “First off, I want to know what you look like. Then I want to hear in detail exactly what you’re wearing.”
“My skin is silky, the color of dark chocolate, yet it’s sweet as honey, not a bit bitter. I’m a statuesque five foot seven, with the perkiest thirty-eight C breasts, real ones. My derriere is so firm and tight a quarter would bounce off it—and so is my flat stomach, with a diamond stud in my belly button. With golden-brown eyes and long, dark brown hair, I turn on lots of men. As for what I’m wearing, I’m in my favorite outfit, my birthday suit.”
His breath coming hard, George had to suck in air. “I guess I should go now. This is my