A Single Date (Dating Just Got Serious) Read online

  A SINGLE DATE

  by Jacqueline Harris

  A SINGLE DATE

  Copyright © by Jacqueline Harris 2013

  This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. The reproduction or utilization of this work in any form or in any part by any means electronic, photocopying or other means available now or in the future is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact YOBACHI PUBLISHING at [email protected].

  For Eleanor and Rosa

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  About the Author

  Date Me ~ Excerpt

  The Series ~ Dating Just Got Serious!

  Chapter One

  Yolanda Maxwell glanced at the clock on the dashboard of her new sport coupe and winced. She had five minutes to maneuver through the thick Philadelphia traffic or risk being late again. Based on the conversation her assistant had with the contractor, this was his last trip to her condo. No matter what, he wasn’t coming back. His condescending attitude set her teeth on edge. Every minute of her workday was busy, but he couldn’t discuss her kitchen and bath renovation in the evening when she had more time.

  She pulled into her designated parking space in front of her unit and shut off the engine. A battered truck plastered with vacation bumper stickers occupied her other slot. It had to belong to the ill-tempered contractor. Who else would have the audacity to use her spot?

  With two minutes to spare she grabbed her new green Hermes bag and dashed up the walk. As she rounded the shrubs, he smacked a note on the front door.

  “I’m not late. It’s not five o’clock yet. I still have a full minute,” she called to him as she approached.

  “Yeah, but with your track record, I expected you to be a no-show, again. You are Yolanda Maxwell, right?” His voice had the same disapproving tone she’d heard before.

  “Yes. Why? Who else would I be?” She thrust her chin higher, dismissing his reprimand.

  “All of my interactions have been with your assistant and I assumed…never mind. Forget I said anything.” He looked away but not before she saw the chagrined expression on his face.

  He wasn’t at all what she’d imagined, either. Instead of a fat dumpy guy with pants hanging below a big beer belly, he was tall and all lean muscles. His sleeveless T-shirt exposed biceps the size of her calves and his tanned skin only made his wheat colored hair and light brown eyes more pronounced. The striking resemblance to Brad Pitt was amazing, only he was much taller and several years younger.

  She stuck out her hand and tried to sound casual. “Please call me Yani. My parents call me Yolanda when I do something that doesn’t meet their approval. And believe me, I hear Yolanda often enough. You must be Drew Sizemore.”

  He grabbed her hand in a firm grip.

  “It’s nice to finally put a name with a face. I was beginning to wonder if you really existed.”

  “I’m sorry about those missed appointments. I did show up a little late last time, but you had already left. I’m usually very prompt, but I just got stuck in the office.” She stepped in front of him to unlock the door. “Sometimes getting away is not easy.”

  He gave her what could have been a smirk before crossing the threshold. “I know you’re very busy, so instead of taking up too much of your time, why don’t you show me what changes you want to make.” His thick Timberland boots clomped across the hardwood floor. A tiny pink teddy bear dangled from the tool belt strapped to his waist. So, he was either married with children or single with children.

  His hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung to the neckline of his shirt. A man with a ponytail, she shook her head. Her father would have something negative to say about that if he saw it.

  “Yes, certainly.” She led the way toward the kitchen. “I bought the condo two years ago, but I’m only now getting around to making some changes. I want to open up the kitchen so it flows into the rest of the house, which means taking down this wall and this bank of cabinets. I want quartz countertops and a double oven in the wall.” She stopped to see if he understood her chattering.

  With his hip positioned against the kitchen sink and his clipboard on the counter, he looked uninterested.

  “Aren’t you going to write this down?”

  “Don’t need to.” His deep voice was intimidating.

  “Mr. Sizemore, I don’t want to have to repeat myself over and over again.”

  “Call me Drew. And I have no intention of making you repeat yourself.” He stepped closer to her, freezing her in place with his penetrating stare. “I heard everything you said. Please continue.”

  She swallowed past the tightening in her throat. This was her house. She should have feel in control. Instead, the way he towered over her made her nervous and clumsy. She backed away from him and made her way into the dining room.

  “Now, should I show you the bathroom en-suite that I want to re-do, too?”

  “Sure. Continue on, I’ll follow you.” His eyes took a long, slow tour of her hips and then down to her legs.

  She tugged at her pencil skirt, uncomfortable with the unauthorized attention.

  “So what’s up with the teddy bear? Is it a hidden screwdriver?” She wanted to sound casual, and draw his attention away from her body.

  He made a half laugh, half-snort sound.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You didn’t think you were the first person to ask about my teddy bear, did you?”

  “Then you know it’s odd for a muscular man like you to have a pink bear hanging from his waist.”

  “My goddaughter gave it to me for my birthday two years ago. And just so you know, I don’t care what people think of me. I only have to please myself.”

  His manifesto settled in her stomach like a load of bricks. She was still trying to muster the courage to stand up to her parents and he made it sound so easy.

  She cocked her head and glanced back at him. “You’re lucky, Drew.”

  “How so?”

  “Never mind.” With him behind her a strand of nervousness inched up her spine. She felt his eyes on her as she hurried down the wide hall to her master bedroom. Inside the room she stepped aside, allowing him to stand beside her. “The bathroom is right through there.” She pointed, choosing to follow him now. Good thing nothing personal cluttered the counter, she already felt exposed.

  “What would you like to see in here?” He stepped inside the small area, directing his attention to the ugly brown tile on the floor and the hideous beige Formica counter and old ceramic sink.

  “I want something more modern, more feminine.” She pressed her back against the wall to keep her distance from him. Even though they stood in her personal space, she tried to sound authoritative like she did in the conference rooms at work.

  “You’re not at all what I expected.” He swung back around to face her.

  She drew her eyes up to his face, realizing he’d changed the subject. “Yeah, you already said this. Since you feel the need to say it again, don’t you think you should tell me what you were expecting?” She huffed.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t say.” His voice dropped an octave, sounding even sexier.

/>   “Now you have to tell me. I want to know.” She folded her arms over her chest and stuck out a spike heel-shod foot. “Go ahead, say it.” She almost dared him to insult her again.

  “Well, I thought you were going to be an uptight corporate executive. While you’re certainly uptight and you’re obviously a corporate big shot, you’re the best looking one I’ve seen in a long time.” His deep voice floated over her like an invitation to something memorable.

  “I…I—”

  “I probably shouldn’t have said that. But I tend to say what’s on my mind. My filters are limited.” He turned back and peered in the shower as if he’d just commented on the weather or a baseball game score. “Do you have any specific ideas for the bathroom or should I make suggestions?”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d like to hear your ideas.” She hurried out of the confined space and back into the kitchen where sun poured in through the window and a counter separated them.

  Without asking, he grabbed his clipboard and took the nearest chair. While he scribbled she removed a bottle of pinot noir from the rack and poured herself a glass.

  His pronouncement about her looks rattled around in her head like a loose marble. She was flattered by the comment, but his arrogance and brashness almost erased the charming side hidden under his low-slung jeans and slightly bowed legs.

  “I’ll have a glass, too.” His voice drew her attention away from the window.

  “What?” She faced him.

  “I’ll have a glass of wine, too.” He lifted his foot across his knee and put the pencil down. “You meant to offer me a drink, didn’t you?”

  “Actually I didn’t.” As she reached for another wine glass she hoped her comment startled him for a change.

  “I’m usually done at four on Friday’s. But since you couldn’t get here any sooner, you’re actually encroaching on my weekend. It’s the least you could do, don’t you think?”

  She filled the glass and placed it on the counter. Unable to decide if he was hostile or flirting was unnerving. She didn’t know whether to smile or show him the door.

  He strolled across the room and accepted the glass. She was almost five feet, nine inches tall, but standing next to him, she felt petite. Judging from where her shoulder hit on his arm, he had to be at least six foot, five. The hunky, handsome handyman had her imagining thoughts from lusty love scenes. This felt more like a date than someone she planned to hire.

  “Are you always so forward?” she asked. “You know, the comment you made in the bathroom?”

  “Most of the time. Are you always late?” Even though his comment changed nothing between them her heart pulsed with expectation.

  “I’m sorry about our last appointments. I apologized already.”

  “Apology accepted.” He tapped his glass against hers and took a sip. “This is pretty good. Now can we talk about timing and budget?”

  She tried to focus on the reason he was standing in her kitchen, sipping wine from her special stash. Instead her brain acted like it was on an out-of-control merry-go-round. His shoulders were broad enough to hold up the world.

  She blinked away the lustful thoughts. “The budget is fifty thousand and not a penny more and I’m hoping you can have everything finished in four weeks. I’m planning a Memorial Day party.”

  He put his glass down. For the first time since meeting him, his lips parted in a beautiful smile. His whole face brightened, which made him even more dashing.

  “I should be able to get it done with that budget, but the timing is not realistic. We haven’t got a design yet or any materials.” He jotted something on his clipboard in bold strokes while squinting at her.

  “What does that look mean?”

  “It happens all the time. The owner delays the project then expects me to pull a rabbit out of my non-existent hat.” He shoved the pen into the clipboard and turned toward the door.

  “Wait a minute. Where are you going?” She grabbed his arm.

  “Home. It’s late and I’m exhausted.” He stuck his thumb through the belt loop. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning at eight. If you can get up early enough, we can finalize the design and start shopping. I can get your project done in about six weeks, but that depends on how committed you are and the materials you select. If those terms don’t work for you, find someone else to rush your project through.”

  “Excuse you, Mr. Sizemore. The last thing I need is for you to come in here and give me ultimatums. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but it’s obvious most of your information is incorrect. You can let yourself out, I’ll find someone else more agreeable to complete my project.”

  He swaggered towards the door. His T-shirt clung to the muscles across his back. His massive hands hung at his sides.

  He yelled over his shoulder. “I’ll be here at eight.”

  “Don’t bother,” she said without conviction.

  Chapter Two

  Drew downed a full cup of black coffee before stepping out of the truck. Yolanda Maxwell was no ordinary client. If she were he wouldn’t have dreamt about her last night and woke up with a boner. Her dark eyes had held his attention but it was her flawless copper skin that he wanted to touch. The ice in her voice last night could have sunk the Titanic, but he was a professional. Difficult clients were just part of the business, but a difficult woman presented a challenge. And he loved a challenge. But saving Harrison Bryant Contracting was priority number one. His uncle had left the business to him, but failed to mention it was drowning in red ink. Without an infusion of cash, Drew would have to float the business a loan. A large one. His father thought he was crazy for trying to save the company, but his mother wanted him to try.

  He made his way to Yani’s front door, half expecting her to ignore the knock or bless him out when she recognized his face through her peephole. But he was willing to take that chance because something about her had crawled under his skin yesterday. And he intended to find out what it was.

  She snatched the door open before he rang the doorbell. “What are you doing here?”

  Instead of the straight, sophisticated hairstyle from yesterday, this morning her hair framed her face in springy spirals. Without make-up, her fresh, clean look was even more appealing. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her toenail polish was a warm shade of blue that matched her denim shorts.

  “Good morning, Yani. We had an appointment for eight.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s just five after, but I thought you could use the extra time. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  He stepped past her into the air-conditioned condo, without waiting for a reply. His arm brushed her breast, sending a pulse through his veins that his coffee couldn’t match.

  Her mouth dropped open just enough to show a row of even white teeth. “The last thing I said to you—”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t listening. Thank you for being up and ready.” He strolled into her kitchen. The remnants of eggs and bacon cluttered a plate on the far side of the table. Steam curled out of a cup of coffee. “Did I interrupt your breakfast?”

  She made a show of rolling her eyes like a child being nagged to do her chores. “You are a character, aren’t you? After your comment yesterday what makes you think I want to do business with you?”

  He studied her for a moment before taking a seat at the table. “Because I’m the best and you’re a perfectionist. Besides, I need the money. Pretend I’m a friend and we’re talking design.” He patted the seat next to him. “Let me show you some of the concepts I came up with.”

  “What makes you think I’m a perfectionist?” Her eyes softened and sparkled like a precious stone.

  “Because you try to control every situation. You haven’t learned that’s impossible yet.”

  “If you are going to be this arrogant, I’m not so certain I want to work with you.”

  He paused before answering. Teasing her was fun, her mouth twitched when she was flustered. “This is me, always.”

  “Good
to know. Then I’ll just have to ignore most of what you say or find someone else to do the job.”

  “Everything I say is worth hearing. You wouldn’t want to miss out, now would you?”

  “Show me the plans. I’ll look, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She flounced into the chair. The smell of tuberose and white cedar wood teased his nostrils. The floral scent reminded him of a gathering of his sisters.

  “Good. By the way I like what you’ve done with your hair. It looks playful and fun.”

  Her hand went to her mane. She ran her fingers through the loose curls settling at her shoulders. “I’ll ignore that.”

  “What? I’m not allowed to compliment you?”

  “I’m still deciding if I’m going to let you stay in my house.”

  “I see.” He smiled and opened his computer, scanning through the drawings he’d developed last night. Based on their brief conversation he had two designs for the kitchen and bath. She gushed over each one like they were gifts and she wanted to pick the best one. Once he’d explained each one to her, he sat back in his chair.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I like them all.” She perched on the edge of her seat, even closer to him. The hint of cleavage budding from the low neckline curve of her T-shirt held him captivated. The skin on her chest was as dewy as the rest of her.

  He cut his glance away and cleared his throat. “Can I get a glass of water?”

  She jumped up. The angst from earlier had vanished. She was as perfect from behind as she was from the front. Her long slender legs were elegantly shaped like a dancer’s and her butt was firm and round.

  “Do you have someone you’d like to discuss these drawings with before you make a decision?”

  “Umm, no. My parents live in Florida now and my brother is useless when it comes to design. He could live in a shoebox if his wife would approve.”

  “No girlfriend or boyfriend?”

  “No boyfriend. I’ll talk to my friend Phoebe when she comes back from her business trip. Anyway I’m used to making my own decisions. I don’t like a lot of other voices in my head.” From the refrigerator she filled the glass with ice then water before setting it in front of him.