Making the First Move Read online

  “Mom, I have to go. I’m meeting friends for drinks.” My cheeks burn. I’m grateful she isn’t here, my mother can always spot when I’m lying. “I’ll call you with my plans for the move, okay? Good night.”

  “Good night,” she says reluctantly. “Be careful. Don’t stay out too late.”

  It’s seven-thirty on a Friday night. I’m alone, as my mother so kindly reminded me, in my pajamas on the night of the biggest promotion of my life. A fact I happily ignored fifteen short minutes ago.

  Now I feel obligated to go out. I call Debbie, my downstairs neighbor, first. No answer on her cell. Next I call Dawn, her sister and roommate, and get her voice mail. I leave a message to share my good news and ask them to meet me at Spinelli’s—my favorite neighborhood bar and grill.

  I change into my best pair of jeans—a comfy pair of Sevens that my best friend, Jamie, bought for my birthday a couple of years ago. They were a little too big when she bought them. Thanks to the Häagen-Dazs, I fill them out nicely now.

  A flirty, cap-sleeved blouse in a deep azure blue silk with a little keyhole opening in the front is the perfect complement to the jeans. I pull my thick, chestnut-colored curls kissed with auburn highlights into a low ponytail and secure them with an antique tortoiseshell barrette—a gift from my dad. Some eye shadow, blush and tinted gloss, and I’m done.

  I stand in the mirror in a pair of navy ballet flats and smile. This is one of those rare moments when I’m confident I look good, like a woman on her way up. What I am is a woman who will spend the night in the corner of a bar drinking mojitos, chowing down on a mountain of greasy onion rings and celebrating all alone.

  Raine.

  We sometimes fill in as each other’s “plus one.” It started about a year ago when he snagged two tickets to a charity gala I’d been dying to attend. He didn’t have a date and asked me to join him.

  “It won’t be a date,” Raine said before I could respond to his invitation. “In fact, consider it an ‘anti-date’—just two friends enjoying a night out.”

  My heart, which had swelled with the possibility that Raine was finally making a move, quickly deflated like a helium balloon stabbed with a needle. “In that case, yes.” I forced a smile.

  We had a fabulous evening, but the next day it was business as usual. Three months later he returned the favor by escorting me to a charity event J&G sponsored.

  Since then we’ve accompanied each other to friends’ weddings, concerts and the occasional movie. Still, we aren’t the kind of friends who randomly call each other and just hang out. But tonight that’s exactly what I need. This morning it sounded like he could use a night out with a friend, too.

  My finger trembles as I find his number and press Send.

  “Gordon, I thought you forgot about me.” Raine intensifies the gritty, smoldering quality of his voice that lies dormant during the day. Outside the office his deep, throaty growl has the ability to make a woman squirm with a sudden need to cross her legs at the knees. Raine seems wholly aware of this, takes great delight in it.

  “Don’t be silly. I just had a few things to handle first.” I press my back against the wall, trying to summon my courage and control my nerves. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. You?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  I relax. “I’m great, actually. I got a promotion today. You’re talking to the brand-new Great Lakes regional talent acquisition manager for Jasper & Graevel Personnel Services.”

  “Congratulations! Does that mean you’ll get some fancy-pants office on the top floor?”

  “I am getting my own office, but it won’t be on the top floor. I’m moving back to Cleveland.”

  “Ohio?”

  “Yes, Ohio!” I laugh. “I grew up there. Remember?”

  “I remember.” His voice trails. “That’s excellent news then, huh? It deserves a proper celebration. Going out with a few friends tonight?”

  “I can’t reach my friends Debbie and Dawn, and everyone else was already at the office party.”

  “Then let me take you out. Where’d you like to go?”

  “Spinelli’s,” I say quickly. This is no time to be coy.

  “A woman who knows what she wants. I like it.” Raine chuckles. “Spinelli’s sounds great. Pick you up in half an hour, unless you need more time.”

  “No.” I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. “Half an hour is fine. I’ll see you then.”

  I look in the mirror and glance at my ass—which apparently only looks superb in $200 jeans. I kick off my ballet flats and head for the closet. After five minutes of rummaging through stacks of clear plastic shoe boxes, I see the perfect pair of shoes—an unworn pair of open-toed sandals in a python print with a four-inch heel.

  Jeans that look this good deserve equally impressive footwear. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I plop down on my bed and strap on the fuck-me pumps.

  Chapter Three

  Thirty minutes later, Raine is standing in my doorway in a camel-colored cashmere sweater and a pair of Levi’s. A white, button-down shirt peeks underneath the collar. Chin-length, caramel-colored locs are pulled back at the crown of his head, with the remaining hair hanging free. He is, in a word, gorgeous.

  My eyes trace the curve of his biceps. I lick my lips, cheeks flushed, and hope he hasn’t noticed I’ve spent the past five seconds checking him out from head to toe. Twice.

  “I see you’re ready to go.” He nods toward the wrap draped over my arm and my clutch tucked underneath it.

  “I am.”

  “Then shall we?” Raine extends his hand in the direction of the narrow stairwell leading down to the first floor.

  “Let’s.” I offer a nervous smile.

  He slips his hand to the small of my back. I try not to notice the heat emanating from his hand. But it’s nearly impossible to ignore the jolt of electricity, which travels through his long, elegant fingers and enters the base of my spine.

  I’m sure his hand has been on that exact spot when he’s guided me through a crowd or we’ve danced together at charity functions. His touch seemed incidental then. Tonight, there’s something about the placement and pressure of his hand that feels deliberate, significant. Or maybe I’m transferring my own well-guarded desire to an innocent gesture.

  Raine guides me down the stairs, out the front door and into his car, his hand still on my back.

  “Thanks for doing this,” I say. “I know it’s short notice.”

  “I couldn’t leave you standing there dressed, with no place to go.” He tries to hide a smirk as he turns the ignition.

  “How’d you know I was already dressed when I called?”

  “You’ve never been ready when I came to pick you up. There’s not a chance in hell you threw this together in thirty minutes. You look...amazing.”

  “Very clever,” I say. “And thank you, I think.”

  “It’s too bad, actually.”

  “What’s too bad?”

  “That you were ready. I was hoping to catch you in a towel, just out of the shower,” he says, his eyes straight ahead.

  My cheeks grow warm. I’m not offended, just surprised. Our social conversations have been mildly flirtatious, but never anything so easily decipherable. We prefer our flirtation so well-coded that only a world-class hacker has a chance in hell of sorting it all out.

  I stifle a giggle. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  He smiles.

  We ride in silence for a while. He pays strict attention to the road. I pretend to be fascinated by the houses and apartments that fly by my window. The same ones I’ve seen nearly every day for the past five years.

  “How about some music?” Raine finally breaks the silence.

  “Sure. What’ve you got?”

  “There
should be something in there you can tolerate.” He nods toward his iPod then gestures for an elderly gentleman—who is halfway into the intersection—to cross the street.

  I scroll through his iPod. “The Collection by Alanis Morissette?” I laugh. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an Alanis fan.”

  “I’m a complicated kind of guy.” He winks at me.

  “Let’s see just how complicated.” I keep scrolling until I come across Learn to Speak Spanish. “I didn’t know you were learning Spanish.”

  “I’ve had that forever. All I can say is No hablo español.” He shrugs. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Why are you learning it?”

  There’s a slight pause before he answers. “A lot of my clients speak English as a second language. Communicating with them in their native tongue lends to a more powerful experience. Besides, as you know—Ms. Regional Talent Manager, is it?—being bilingual makes me more marketable.”

  “It’s the Great Lakes Regional Talent Acquisition Manager,” I practically sing, “thank you very much. And I’m glad you’re thinking about your marketability. The work you’re doing at the Center is important, but I wouldn’t blame you if you went for a corporate job. You’ve got a lot to offer.”

  Raine turns toward me at a stoplight. There’s something intense, brooding about his eyes, like dark gray clouds rolling in ahead of a fierce storm. He wants to say something but isn’t quite ready to say it.

  The light turns green, and the driver behind us blows the horn. Raine pulls off.

  “Personally or professionally?” He stares ahead again.

  “Both, of course.”

  “So as a headhunter you’d consider me a viable candidate?”

  “Sure. You have years of experience in social services and nonprofit administration. You’re passionate about making a difference in the community. Dozens of organizations—nonprofits, corporations, government agencies—are desperate for a candidate like you. I could have you placed in a week, easy.”

  “That’s good to know.” Raine turns into the parking lot of Spinelli’s and finds a spot. “What about personally? Would someone like you, for instance—a successful, professional woman—think I have a lot to offer?”

  My heart beats faster. I nod. “Yes. Someone like me would.”

  Raine bites his lower lip. The left side of his mouth slowly spreads into a subdued smile. He pushes his door open. “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”

  He walks around, opens my door and extends his hand. I stare at it, as if he’s a smiling stranger offering candy. Taking a deep breath, I gently place my hand in his. He tightens his grip and draws me out of the car.

  We stand so close our bodies practically touch. His delicious scent fills my nostrils. For a fleeting moment it seems he’s going to lean in and kiss me. Instead he steps back, extends his elbow and leads me inside the restaurant.

  It’s crowded tonight. We wait at the bar until a table is available. Raine orders a Corona with a lime wedge. I order a mojito. Twenty-five minutes pass, but we barely notice. We talk about art, music, current events.

  This is typical for us. We enjoy each other’s company but don’t delve too deeply into each other’s lives or reveal too much about our own. Part of me is relieved we’ve fallen back into this comfortable rhythm.

  The strobe lights on the pager the greeter gave us announce that our table is ready. The hostess leads us to a booth in a dimly lit corner of the restaurant. I slide in. Raine turns and gives the greeter a nod and palms a few bills into her hand.

  “This is a cozy booth.” I spread the cloth napkin across my lap. There’s no way I’m getting food on these jeans.

  He looks up, shrugs then scratches the back of his neck. “We lucked out, I guess.”

  I raise an eyebrow. He reaches for what’s left of his beer and takes a long sip.

  “You mentioned that the Center has plans for expansion.”

  “Yes, thanks to a very generous grant from Underwood Labs,” he says. “The announcement is next week.”

  “That’s fabulous news!”

  “I have you to thank. You introduced me to Maris Vaughn. I couldn’t say anything before the grant was secured. Your official thank-you goes out after the formal announcement is made.”

  “So is that what you called to tell me today?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” He sighs and looks away then takes another sip of his beer.

  “Are you sure—”

  I’m interrupted by the server. She tells us about the specials, takes our orders then brings us a basket of their yummy bread and honey walnut butter.

  I love bread almost as much as I love Häagen-Dazs, but tonight I need to be conservative. I don’t want Raine to think I’m a pig. Nor do I want the button of my jeans to pop off and put out one of his lovely gray eyes.

  “So, was that the only reason you called?”

  Raine opens his mouth to respond then gets a deer-in-the-headlights look. He practically grabs our server as she walks by. “Another Corona, please.”

  “Raine, you okay?”

  He usually has two beers the entire evening. Tonight he’s working on his second beer in less than half an hour.

  He gives me a half smile and adjusts his shirt sleeves. “A little unnerved, I guess.”

  “Why? I don’t bite.” I spread honey butter on a piece of bread and hand it to him. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

  He shrugs, settling back against the burgundy leather seat as he nibbles his bread. “So, tell me about your big promotion.”

  “I was completely taken by surprise. I didn’t even know J&G had plans to expand into the Midwest.”

  “You didn’t apply for the job?”

  “Not this one specifically. But this is the opportunity I’ve been working for since I joined J&G five years ago. I managed a small firm in Cleveland for a few years. I’ve been working to get back to that level, but with a larger firm. This past year my manager gave me a shot with a few of our bigger clients. It impressed the right people at the right time.”

  “They couldn’t have made a better choice.” Raine manages a smile that barely kisses his lips. It’s an uneasy mix of happiness and something I can’t quite place. He holds up his beer. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Something about his hollow smile causes a slight ache in my chest. I ignore it and raise my glass to toast.

  “Are you excited about returning home?”

  “I’m thrilled about the opportunity. I just didn’t anticipate I’d end up right back where I started. Frankly, I’d be happier staying here.” I sigh. “But you have to make sacrifices to get where you want to go.”

  “And where do you want to go?”

  “Not to Cleveland.” I force a laugh and take a quick sip of my drink.

  “Not metropolitan enough for you?”

  “That’s not it at all. There’s plenty to do in Cleveland.”

  Raine’s right brow forms a question mark. He purses his lips.

  “Really!” I object. “There’s a great Broadway series every year at the historic PlayhouseSquare. The Cleveland Orchestra is one of the best in the world. Our art museum is phenomenal. And you would love the local music scene. Cleveland is a fantastic sports town. I’ve been watching the Cavs, Indians and Browns for as long as I can remember—for better or worse.”

  “You’re a sports fan?” He studies me for a moment and smiles. Then he takes another sip of his beer.

  I’d give the Stella McCartney clutch I bought on eBay last year to know what he’s thinking. “Surprised?”

  “That Cleveland is a cultural mecca, or that you’re a sports fan?”

  I think for a moment, my mouth twisted. “Both.”

  He
laughs. “Yes and yes.”

  The server appears and places Raine’s order of prime rib in front of him. She places my delicious bowtie pasta with grilled chicken, sundried tomatoes and mushrooms in a creamy wine sauce in front of me. We dig into our plates.

  “Will you rent an apartment, or do you plan on something more permanent?” Raine carves another piece of prime rib.

  “Definitely buying. I can get a three-thousand-square-foot home for less than a tiny condo here. I’d love to restore an older home—like the one I grew up in—or maybe get a loft downtown.”

  “So, there’s no possibility of you coming back, then?”

  I look at him. The muscles in my back tighten. I’m moving across the country in less than thirty days. Is he really doing this now? Taking a deep breath, I try to prevent the irritation I feel from seeping into my voice. “We’re opening a permanent office. Cleveland will be my home again for at least the next five years. After that...I’ll go wherever my career takes me.”

  “Of course.” Raine taps his fork lightly on his dinner plate. He catches me watching him and shoves another forkful of prime rib in his mouth.

  Words unsaid hang heavy in the air between us.

  “Don’t worry, a handsome guy like you will have no trouble finding a new ‘plus one.’” I force a smile, unable to bear the weird silence between us.

  “But will she still respect me after she discovers my penchant for charity balls and chick flicks?”

  We laugh. Just like that, the glint returns to his eyes. He flashes his brilliant smile and perfectly aligned teeth. His laugh is infectious. I can’t resist joining in, nor do I want to.

  Raine orders a decadent chocolate torte, but only after I promise to share it. I bat my eyelashes, smile and pretend I couldn’t polish the entire thing off myself.

  “I’ll bet your mom is thrilled that you’re coming home.” Raine settles back into his seat.

  “She is.” I nod.

  “And she must be tremendously proud of you.”

  “She is,” I say again, less confidently. He raises an eyebrow and leans forward, waiting for me to continue. I clear my throat and twist the class ring I still wear on my right hand. “It’s just that, no matter what I accomplish, I still feel I’m disappointing her.”