Yet.
Why had she agreed to go out with him tonight after refusing him for the past month? She’d thought he’d lose interest after the first couple of times she’d said no. She was sure he was just teasing, being friendly, passing a Friday night. Being a flirt.
But there was something deeper in his laughing green eyes. Something that made her want to ease into him and let him slay her dragons and be her knight.
And those kind of thoughts were ones that would get her in trouble. She had plenty of past experience to go by. From now on, she was going to look before she leapt. She wasn’t going to try to define herself through a man. Wasn’t going to search for love in all the wrong places, or mistake infatuation for the real thing.
Been there, done that, she thought, unconsciously touching the two sapphire rings she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. And the consequences had left irreparable scars on her soul.
“Looks like you’ve made Mr. Cell Phone millionaire a happy man,” Tiffany Hershey commented as she scooted Vickie aside and automatically began clearing dirty glasses from the table.
“Why do you always define people by their profession or bank account?”
Tiffany shrugged and grinned. “Girl, bank accounts are important. And when they come with a guy who looks like that…” Her gaze strayed toward the bar. “Well, I’d say you’ve struck the mother lode.”
“There’s more to Jace than his business success,” Vickie defended.
“Mmm, and you’re going to find out how much more, right?”
“We’re just going for coffee.”
“I know. I overheard. And you were officially off the clock three minutes ago.” Tiffany laid a hand on Vickie’s arm, her heavily made-up eyes turning serious. “Give him a chance, hon.”
“Tiffany…”
“Don’t give me that tone. You’ve got a wall around you a mile high. All you do is work and study. You deserve some happiness in your life.”
Over one too many glasses of wine after work one night, Vickie had told Tiffany about her life and the reason she’d sworn off men. She didn’t often tell her secrets to others, and had regretted opening up to the other woman. Just thinking about it brought her shame.
But Tiffany had turned out to be a gentle champion and confidante. Despite the other woman’s flamboyance, they’d formed a friendship.
“He’s out of my league.”
“Get outta here. You’ve got more to offer a man than most of them even deserve. Sometimes I think you’re too sweet for your own good, but I think this guy’s different. He doesn’t strike me as one to take advantage.”
“If he is, he won’t get far with me. I’m not traveling that road again.”
“That’s a great attitude, hon. But you still have to bend a little. Let people in.”
“We’ll see.” She’d let people in before. Too easily. And the bones of the myriad skeletons in her closet were a rattling echo in her heart and mind. Every day.
The bar would be open for another three hours, but like Tiffany had pointed out, Vickie’s shift was over. She retrieved her tips for the night and slipped in the back room to hang up her apron and grab her denim jacket. Paul was good about working around her school schedule, letting her have flexible hours and plenty of time to study.
At thirty-one, she was starting a bit late in the game toward a career, but better late than never. She was going to make something of herself. Securing an education and a stable, respectable career as a teacher meant everything to her. Eventually, she might even pursue her master’s and go into counseling.
She’d long ago lost contact with any of the people from the group homes she was raised in, but it was a burning point of pride that she show them—at least in her own mind—that she could excel, overcome the sins of the past.
A past where nobody had cared enough to ask if a little girl had dreams.
As a teacher, perhaps she could make a difference in just one child’s life. Be the type of role model she’d always wished had been there for her. Help a young girl or boy realize that they could reach for a dream.
Her heart thumped in her chest and her nerve endings tingled as she headed back to the counter where Jace Carradigne sipped a beer and waited for her. She wasn’t afraid of the man himself. She was afraid of what he made her feel. What he could easily make her forget: that she’d sworn off relationships until she’d graduated from college and accomplished her teaching goals.
He stood when she approached. “Ready?”
“I really should go home and study. I’ve got a psychology test on Monday.”
“See there? You’re in luck. I’m the perfect guy to help you out in that area.”
A bubble of laughter tickled its way up her throat. “I’m afraid to ask how.”
“I excelled in psychology classes in college. Had to actually, just to save my sanity. You see my sister, Kelly, was one of those gifted kids. She’s only twenty-six, but she’s already a scientist. She’s got multiple degrees in various fields of medicine.”
“And why did that compel you to study psychology?” They made their way toward the door and Vickie waved good-night to Tiffany.
“Because she used bigger words than I could understand.”
Vickie rolled her eyes. “I doubt that. According to your friends who’ve so helpfully given you references, you’re a self-made success story. The king of cell phones. A man like that’s not intimidated by a few big words.”
“See? Great guys, my friends. The king title’s a little over the top—even though I am related to a royal family. Was it my buddies singing my praises that made you decide to go out with me?”
She wanted to smile at the way he teasingly claimed a connection to royalty. She knew he’d deliberately put his friends up to giving him “references.” And they’d had great fun doing it. “I haven’t really decided to go out with you.”
“Too late. We’re out.” He gestured around to the crisp night where quaint wrought iron streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks in front of restored buildings that had stood since the 1870s. “And you’re with me.”
She shook her head. “Literal, aren’t you?”
“I can be. Think of me as your study aid. We’ll exchange information, delve into each other’s psyche. I’m an open book. Anything you want to know, just ask.”
Hiking the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket. The October air was brisk and invigorating. “Are you always so…”
“So what?”
“I don’t know. Happy?”
He laughed. “It’s called being positive. It’s an energy. Very effective business tool.”
“And personal one as well.”
“Is it working?”
“I think you know it is.” She glanced at the sidewalk tables outside a café. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“Well, it’s your call, but I’ve got a great condo across the bay. Incredible view. And I make a killer omelet. Decent coffee, too.”
“And I suppose you have some etchings you’d like to show me, as well?”
He slapped a wide palm to his chest. “Victoria, my love. You wound me. I’m a perfect gentleman.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. The man inspired it. He also