be so frivolous? What was happening to her? she wondered. Why would she agree to get into a car with a complete stranger? You know why, a voice whispered in her head. She agreed—because she felt something special going on between them. Feelings that she wanted to explore.
Shae knew that her mother would be on her way up to God if she knew her only child was putting her life in jeopardy this way. But J.D.’s gentle face and expression pushed its way to the forefront; she believed J.D. when he said all he wanted to do was pay her back in some small way for all her kindness.
J.D. zoomed up to the curb in a black Chrysler Cross-fire. After he stored their luggage, the couple headed for the Downtown Marriott on Michigan Avenue. Forty minutes later he brought the vehicle to a halt in front of the hotel. Instantly, the valet and bellboy approached the car.
He popped the trunk, got out of the car and removed Shae’s belongings. Immediately, the bellboy placed her bags on the cart and started for the entrance. J.D. tossed his car keys to the valet, helped Shae from the car and led her into the two-story lobby with a hand at her elbow. He waited while she completed the check-in process and followed her up the elevator to the penthouse, halting outside the suite’s entrance.
“What do you have planned for dinner?” J.D. asked.
Shae shrugged, nervously turning her key card over and over in her hands. “I’ll order from room service.”
“Don’t do that.” He moved a step closer. The warmth of his body penetrated the layers of her clothes. “Let me take you out for dinner.”
Her heart rate accelerated and a rat-a-tat-tat continued in her chest as she considered J.D.’s suggestion. Up to this point, everything had gone well. He had been a perfect gentleman. There were no accidental touches or intrusions into her personal space. Had he been setting her up for a major seduction? Was she pushing her luck by trusting him one more time?
Shae closely examined his handsome face. Albert and Vivian Weitherspoon’s warnings came flying back. “You have to be careful,” they always advised. “Remember,” her mother would add in her special tone that always made Shae feel like the village idiot, “there are people that prey on wealthy young women as trusting as you are.”
All her life Shae’s parents had warned her about the pitfalls of allowing people to get too close to her. Mommie and Pop had continually reminded her of her social and financial status as the daughter of a wealthy man. Her father constantly harped about her girlfriends, boyfriends and the university she attended; he was especially harsh about her boyfriends. Albert Weitherspoon managed to find a problem with every male she’d ever brought home. The poor souls weren’t serious, didn’t show respect, were too silly or too old. Unless he hand chose the guy, no one was ever good enough for Albert Weitherspoon’s daughter.
Yet, Shae had always fought for her own choices. Moving to Chicago was an example of that. This was her life. The life she chose. Now, a handsome young man was asking her out.
“Look, if you’re still worried, we can leave a message at the front desk so that they know where we’re going for dinner and what time to expect you back.” J.D. added a disarming smile. “Please?”
It was time for her to take charge of her life. She needed to stop worrying about what her parents thought. “All right, I’ll go.”
A big grin slowly spread across his face. “What time would you like me to pick you up?”
“Why don’t we get together at six? That’ll give me a little time to relax,” Shae suggested.
“It sounds great. I’ll see you then.” Hesitating for a moment, J.D. reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “You won’t regret it.”
Shae shoved the key card into the door slit and turned the door knob when the green light flashed. She moved into the suite’s hallway and took a quick glance over her shoulder. J.D. stood, waiting at the elevator.
She was going out with a person she had met on a plane less than four hours earlier. Smiling, Shae shut the door after her. She hadn’t been in town for an hour, and already she had a date.
Chapter 4
At 6:00 p.m. Shae opened the door to a freshly shaved and showered J.D. Casually dressed, he looked great in a camel-colored V-neck sweater, a coffee-brown crew-neck T-shirt and rust-colored trousers. White sneakers peeked from beneath the hem of J.D.’s pant legs.
Shae grabbed her bag and headed out the door, trying to push her concerns about the evening from her mind. She clutched the strap of her purse and studied her dinner date, hoping she wasn’t making a major mistake. When J.D. turned away, she regarded him with somber curiosity. Who was J.D. really? After all, they had only known each other for a few hours.
They took the elevator to the lobby, detouring to the reception desk where Shae gave the clerk her door key card. Before leaving the hotel she instructed the woman behind the desk, “If I get any calls, you can tell them that I’m at dinner and to please try again in a couple of hours.”
Flashing Shae a dazzling smile, J.D. cupped her elbow in his warm palm and they strolled out of the Marriott into the sixty-degree weather. Cars, SUVs and busses zoomed by as they made their way along Michigan Avenue.
He stopped in front of a mud-colored brick building sporting a cloth red-and-white striped awning; small, white tables with umbrellas lined the front of the building. J.D. opened the door and guided Shae inside. The mouthwatering aromas of oregano, tomatoes and garlic instantly greeted them.
A chubby man with midnight-black hair slowly waddled from behind a counter. The waiter shifted his large bulk between the tightly packed rows of tables, making his way to the door. “Table for two?”
J.D. nodded, then turned to Shae with a look of dismay spreading across his face.
Shae touched his arm. “What?”
“I just assumed that it was okay. That’s not always true. You might have allergies or problems with milk. Who knows, you may not like Italian food,” J.D. said. “It never occurred to me that you might not like pizza. I wanted to take you to someplace where you would feel comfortable and safe. I figured you’d be a little tired after the flight and wouldn’t want to go someplace glitzy where we had to dress up and be on our best behavior.” J.D. waved a hand around the restaurant. “This seemed a lot better.”
Smiling, Shae patted his arm reassuringly. She wasn’t the only person worried about their date. “Relax. Everything is fine. I love pizza.”
They followed the waiter to a quiet section of the room. A white-and-red checked vinyl tablecloth covered the tiny square table. Two very shiny wood chairs faced each other from across the flat surface.
J.D. helped Shae get comfortable at the table, then slid into the opposite chair, flashing his companion a beguiling smile. “I know it doesn’t look like much. Trust me, this place makes the best deep dish pizza that I’ve ever had.”
“What do you like on your pizza?”
“Meat,” he answered quickly. “I like pepperoni, sausage, chicken. Meat.”
Frowning, the nurse asked, “What about vegetables?”
“That works for me,” J.D. replied nonchalantly.
