to give Janice a chuckle every now and again. Her coworkers knew her sense of humor and relied on it to lighten their long days.
“Good afternoon, Mr. James. Mr. Benson buzzed a few minutes ago to say that you would be stopping in. I was wondering whether you’d gotten lost.”
“He was in perfectly good hands,” Safire said.
“I see that he was. Come have a seat.”
Safire turned to leave. “I’ll be in the lobby in an hour,” she said to Janice. “Don’t let him keep me waiting.”
Back in her office, Safire began wrapping up her research for Mr. Hines. It was a criminal case under state jurisdiction involving the mistreatment of a minor, and since cases involving children were Safire’s specific interest, she tore through the research. She had already traced the applicable law and had the relevant statutory leads. She had collected all the on-point court decisions she could find, and now she only had to check the relevant cases to see if any of the decisions had been reversed, overruled or criticized.
This kind of suit was why she wanted to become a lawyer or work with children. She wanted to make a difference, not only through research but by having her own cases. Maybe it was because she knew what it was like to be young and feel vulnerable and alone. She was still in high school when her mother died. Then her father went. With her older sister taking care of their younger brother, she knew she had to look out for herself. And she hated feeling vulnerable. She’d made up her mind to rid herself of that feeling and pursue whatever she would have pursued had the foundation not been pulled from under her feet. She wanted to give that to other young people—that determination, that empowerment, that fierceness.
Safire worked for half an hour more and then started packing up the books she had used, keeping out the ones in which she’d tagged pages. She collected her notes, shut down the computer and looked at her watch.
While she was working, her mind stayed focused on the task, but now Safire’s thoughts ran back to the ever-so-sexy Mr. Darien James. It was time to get to the lobby, or she might miss him. She grabbed her blazer, collected her purse from her office and said her usual goodbyes. She popped into the restroom to spruce up, taking the clip out of her hair to let the long curls fall down and refreshing her makeup. Then she stopped at the receptionist’s desk.
“Is Darien James still in Janice’s office?” she asked.
“Yes, he is,” the receptionist said.
“Good. I’ll be waiting for him in the lobby. Have a good night.”
Safire waved and stepped onto the elevator. In the lobby, her heels ticked over the marble floor as she made her way to the central fountain, nodding to the guard on her way. She loved the click of heels and was rarely without them. It made her feel as if she was going somewhere, as if she had a presence. She took a quarter out of her purse and tossed it into the fountain, hoping that Darien James would turn out to be all that she thought he would be.
And what was that? Safire wasn’t sure, but he was handsome and sweet—a dangerous and formidable combination and one that was rare in Safire’s world. She hadn’t really noticed that before. She went out a lot and dated a lot. It was part of her determination to embrace life, part of the willpower that kept her from being undone by the loss of her parents. She pursued men the way she pursued everything else—fiercely. But unlike an education or a career, men could also be a distraction from what was really important, what was really worth pursuing. Safire was keeping her eyes on what counted and never took men too seriously. The lookers she dated were generally a bit full of themselves, basically because they were lookers. It was easy to catch them, have fun with them and then throw them back into the sea for some less focused fisher.
Darien James hadn’t seemed that way at all. He seemed down-to-earth and unpretentious, a fact that made him all the more irresistible. In fact, it made him seem a little dangerous. Maybe he was different, different enough to fall for. Safire shrugged at the thought, which was unlike her. If nothing else, he was fine—capital F-I-N-E. Hopefully, he knew how to use his God-given talents. She sure as hell wanted to find out.
There was no telling how long he might be, so Safire sat on the retaining wall that skirted the fountain and took her phone out of her purse to call one of her girlfriends and talk about her latest dish—the one she wanted to be her dish, anyway. Camilla picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, girl,” Safire said. “I might not have long, but I have a date for happy hour tonight. He’s as good-looking as all get-out and seems sweet on top of that, not full of himself like the usual hottie....You may get to meet him. I have to meet him first for myself—really meet him. I’ll let you know how it turns out and whether he tastes as good as he looks.”
Safire moved the phone from her ear as Camilla squealed. She glanced up, however, and there was Darien James getting off the elevator. She moved the phone back to her ear.
“Here he is, girl. I gotta go.”
She clicked the phone shut, put it back in her bag and got up to make her way toward Darien.
As she neared him, he slowed and blinked twice.
“I hope you’re not surprised to see me,” Safire said.
“Well, yes. I didn’t think you were serious. And your hair is different.”
“Serious as an accident on I-95. You going?”
“Uh...” He seemed to think about it a moment.
Safire watched him closely in those few seconds. She saw the shift in his face as his reluctance began to drain away, and then he turned and looked into her face, clearly intrigued by the woman standing in front of him. Finally, he gave her a little smile.
“Yes. Happy hour. Why not?”
“Good. We get to really meet. Are you open to that?”
“Sure,” he said. “I just hadn’t planned on going out tonight. But you’ve convinced me. I’d like to get to know you better, and a few hours in the company of a beautiful woman can soothe a work-worn spirit.” He held out his arm to her. “Let’s go.”
Safire took the arm Darien offered, and the two ministepped through the revolving door together. They came out on the other side laughing, and Safire directed them down the street to Jake’s.
Jake’s was a sports bar on the corner, and it was always packed with downtown types at happy hour. It had huge television screens and a large bar in the center of the room. Booths were stationed along the walls, but these were filled by now. High tables with tall stools occupied the rest of the space. Safire and Darien took seats at one of these, and Safire signaled a waiter.
“Can I get you drinks?”
“Make mine a virgin strawberry daiquiri,” Safire said, rolling her neck, “or I might end up on the floor.”
“Make mine the same,” Darien said.
His voice was smooth and resonant, and Safire loved the thrill it sent up her spine.
“You don’t have to forgo the alcohol because of me,” Safire said. “Go ahead. Unwind.”
“I don’t really drink.”
That was a little odd to Safire,
