For the last two hours, Bob had been pulling out all the stops to be charming to her. It was going to pay off for him, Emily decided, watching him over the rim of her wine glass. This trip, he’d be the one she’d sleep with.
Five consecutive years she’d attended the annual convention for architects held in this Manhattan hotel. The four day event took place the third week of June. A down time for her at work, and a good time for her to get away. Guest speakers discussed latest architectural trends and innovations that she would adapt in her own designs.
Keeping up with the trade wasn’t all she came for. There was the networking. When a firm needed to recommend someone in Seattle, Emily made sure that “someone” was her firm, Brandewynne and Hope.
Bob’s blue eyes lowered from her face to where her black skirt grazed her mid-thigh, and stayed there. Of course. The skirt she’d chosen showed her long tanned legs to best advantage. Bob’s nostrils flared.
She held her own above the knee as well, she knew. She’d curled her dark brown hair and fluffed it so it tumbled across both shoulders. Kohl pencil rimmed her eyes and combined with mascara made them look heavy-lidded. Sensuous was the effect she’d strived for.
Bob finally looked up from her legs. “This is the fourth time I’m revising my design for this client’s cottage.” He chuckled, and his cheeks dimpled. “But I’m not holding my breath that this will be the last time. I’m waiting for him to add a tennis court.”
Emily laughed, and Bob’s grin widened. He was put together the way she liked her men: tall and toned. But the truth was his sense of humor rather than his looks had kept her interest. His wit had livened up what would have been a dull group of eight at her table this trip.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Bob went on. “For each change, I get to bill him.”
Like her own, the firm where Bob worked as an associate handled residential renovations. She had the business card Bob gave her Day One of the conference in her briefcase. He had hers. Over drinks, they’d talked shop. She’d been impressed with his creativity.
When others joined them, she’d watched him work his audience. No doubt that charm made him popular with clients.
It would be nice to confer with him on occasion. Too bad after tonight she’d have to make sure she never saw him again.
She drained the wine in her glass, and set it on the white table cloth. She stood, and slid the jacket that matched her skirt from the velvet chair back.
“I’m going to see some more of Manhattan,” she said.
Bob got to his feet as well. She brushed by him. Glancing over her shoulder, up at him,
she raised an eyebrow. “Coming?”
* * *
“You said you like to dance,” Bob said, as they descended the hotel steps.
Emily nodded. “That’s right.” Her blouse stuck to her now that she was out of the air conditioned lobby. She unfastened the top two buttons.
On the sidewalk, vendors hawked hotdogs, peanuts, and cold drinks beneath the soft glow of streetlights. Horns honked.
“I know where there’s a great club,” Bob said above the noise. “It’s not far from here?”
Emily smiled. “Your town.”
Bob raised his arm, and whistled. A taxi pulled up. He opened the rear door, held it for her, then climbed in beside her.
Ten minutes later she led him through a crush of bodies, shaking to a frantic beat on the dance floor. Strobe lighting overhead slowed the motion of the dancers. It looked surreal. She loved it.
Emily towed Bob to the wooden floor. The music slowed. The lights dimmed. Bob spread his arms. She pressed herself up against him. Up close he felt as good as he looked. Against his ear, she said, “After this dance, you can take me back to my hotel.”
Bob’s arms tightened around her waist. “We can be at my place in about five minutes.”
It made sense that Bob had chosen this club because of its proximity to his apartment, but she always took her dates back to her hotel. She wasn’t going to be the one to leave a warm bed in the middle of the night.
“I’d rather go back to my room,” she said.
When they were again in the backseat of a cab, on the way to her hotel, Bob turned to her. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since I first saw you in the conference room.”
Emily rested her head against his arm, and smiled up at him. “Oh?”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said quietly. “But from the moment our eyes met, I felt drawn to you in a way I haven’t with anyone else.” He brushed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “I knew you were the one. You’re my soul mate, Em.”
His “soul mate.” Hardly. But, he was sweet, if not original.
The cab stopped in the hotel’s semicircular drive. Bob paid the cabbie.
Her room was on the tenth floor, at the end of a long carpeted hall. Sheer curtains hung at opposite ends of a wide window that opened to the star-studded Manhattan skyline. The glow from the full moon softly illuminated the beige and burgundy furnishings and curtains. A King-size bed was against one wall. Before she’d left for dinner, she’d turned back the comforter, and placed two burgundy pillows against the crescent-shaped headboard.
Linking her hands with Bob’s now, she backed toward the bed.
* * *
Emily turned away from Bob, and glanced at her travel alarm clock on the bed stand. Two a.m. She stood, and plucked her robe from the bedpost. The sleeve caught. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bob had snagged the sleeve. He released it to run his hand down her bare back. “Your skin is softer than this silk,” he said.
Emily smiled at the compliment. There was desire in his eyes, but the experience was over for her. She turned away from him.
Inside the bathroom, she reached for her toothbrush. The conference had gone very well. She was looking forward to working up some sketches based on the techniques she’d heard about. She had a client who wanted something new and different for his house. She had just the thing.
She rinsed, tugged the towel off the brass bar, and eyed herself in the mirror. Her mascara and lipstick were smudged. Her hair mussed. She made her repairs, and left the bathroom.
She had a plane to catch in less than three hours. It was time to send Bob on his way.
# # #
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