wouldn’t.” She looked around for their waiter. “Why don’t we ask to be put at two different tables? I needed to eat out this evening, anyway.”
“Why did you need to eat out?”
“A rough day at the office,” she said mildly.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“No, thank you. I remember Jen telling me about you, but I can’t remember your name.”
“I’m Jonathon Davis. You can call me John. Nice to meet you, Diane.”
She offered a small smile. “Shall I wave to the waiter so he can find me another table?”
“No, definitely not. I told you I don’t like to eat alone. Why shouldn’t we get to know each other and enjoy our meal?”
She hesitated, then said, “Okay, but I’ll pay for my dinner.”
“I thought you knew I was wealthy?”
“What difference does that make? I’m not exactly on welfare!”
He leaned toward her. “I invited you, so I pay.”
“But I accepted under false pretenses.”
“I think that was my fault. Please?”
She lowered her gaze. His eyes were magnetic. “I—I suppose. Okay.”
“I haven’t had to work this hard to share dinner with a lady in a long time.”
She just shook her head. She didn’t know what to say to that comment.
“So tell me what kind of job you have.”
“I’m a banker.”
“You work in a bank? Are you a secretary or a teller?”
“I’m vice president in charge of investments.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know they gave those kind of jobs to women.”
“They don’t. I earned it!” Diane had faced enough discrimination in the workplace, she didn’t need it from a dinner companion. This time when she stood, she didn’t give him a chance to stop her. She scooped up her purse and stormed from the restaurant.
HE’D BLOWN IT.
It hadn’t been his intention to send her running. He’d simply said what had come to mind.
Diane Black was unlike his other dinner dates, who dabbled in careers or made one out of fund-raising for charities and planning socialite balls. She was a working woman, and he didn’t know how to act around that ilk.
Besides, she had only given him what he deserved. He had been a bear, dragging her along to dinner, too intent on getting it over with to really listen to what she’d been trying to say.
He sighed, staring at her empty seat. He truly hated eating alone.
An idea formed. He asked the waiter to wrap up their meals, and left him a sizable tip.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived back at the fourplex. As he pulled into the parking lot, he was pleased to see Diane’s car. Now all he had to figure out was which apartment was hers.
He reached the door with his stack of take-out boxes just as the door was shoved opened and four very attractive young women came out. One of them stopped to stare at John.
“Hello. Are you lost?”
“No. I’m here to see Diane.”
“Oh. Well, she’s home. She came in a few minutes ago.”
“Which one is she in?”
“Upstairs on the right.”
“Thanks.” He hurried up the steps.
Knocking on the appropriate door, he waited until it opened, then grinned, holding up the redolent boxes. “Hi. I brought dinner.”
Diane didn’t return the smile. “No, thank you. I’m fixing dinner already.”
“Come on, Diane. There’s no point in letting this go to waste.”
She glanced down and drew in a deep breath, the delicious aroma breaking her resolve. “Fine. Which ones belong to me?”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Either I come in with the boxes or they don’t come in.”
“Fine,” she said again. But instead of opening the door wider, she closed it and he heard the lock click into place.
“Diane! Diane, you’re not being fair. Come on, open the door.”
He was answered with silence.
“Diane, I want to have dinner with you. I’ve already paid for it. The least you can do is share it with me.”
After a few minutes of banging on her door and calling out to her, to no avail, he returned to his car. He sat there in the car eating his meal…and hers, too. But he saw no sign of her.
Finally, he drove home, questioning why he had hung around waiting for her to acknowledge him. He had a lot of women after him, didn’t he? So why had he waited for her to forgive him?
He hadn’t found an answer by the time he reached home. The housekeeper greeted him, wanting to know if he needed a snack before he went to bed.
“No, Mrs. Walker, thank you. I hope you didn’t wait up for me.”
“No, of course not, Mr. Davis. I hadn’t gone to bed yet.”
He smiled at her and continued up the stairs. Of course she hadn’t gone to bed. It was only eight o’clock. What was wrong with him?
Tomorrow would be a different day. He could face his father without feeling guilty. And he wouldn’t have to explain that his date had been the one to call a halt to the evening.
Maybe that was what bothered him more than anything. She hadn’t wanted him! Most of the women after him wanted him because of his wealth, of course, but even that didn’t tempt Diane.
Had he gotten lazy? John didn’t think he’d ever angered a woman enough that she gave him up. But maybe he needed to be more careful about how he treated women. He certainly hadn’t learned that from his father, who was currently on wife number five, a woman younger than John.
With a sigh, he entered the master suite and began undressing. He’d get in bed and watch some television. That would take his mind off the infuriating Diane Black.
Sure it would.
DIANE STUDIED HER wardrobe the next morning. It was full of black and gray suits—what she’d learned early on constituted professional dress for a banker, male or female. The only color was an occasional muted pastel blouse. Today she actually yearned
