Several other onlookers had done the same.
“Damn, that’s amazing.”
Eric nodded. “Genius. Pure genius. Look at how many people the window’s attracting.”
“No shit. This should earn someone a nice little bonus.”
Eric shook his head. Lately with Tom it was always about money or women. As if he needed to worry about either. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. No more changing the subject. You have an assortment of lovelies right here. Blondes, brunettes, redheads.” Ignoring a sharp look he received from a well-dressed older woman who’d obviously overheard, he gestured toward a group staring at the window. “I’m not moving until you choose one.”
Eric shrugged and turned to leave. “I’ll say hey to everyone at Pete’s for you.”
Tom snagged his coat sleeve. “Come on.”
Eric sighed. His gaze went back to the mannequin, to the tiny beauty mark at the corner of her lush mouth. “Her,” he said with a jut of his chin.
“Who?” Tom scanned the group of women close to the window. “Which one?”
“There.” Eric barely contained a smile as he fixed his gaze on the mannequin. “She’s perfect.”
It took Tom a moment for it to register and then he laughed. “Why, because she can’t talk?”
“A big bonus, you have to admit.”
“I’ll give you that.” Tom studied the mannequin. “Great legs, too. I wonder if she’s busy this weekend.”
Eric shook his head and headed across the street. “I’m gonna go have a drink. You do what you want.”
Tom started after him when he heard the crowd gasp. He turned just in time to see the two mannequins throwing their hands up as if frightened by the wave, and then they repositioned themselves, again going perfectly still.
The crowd began murmuring and talking excitedly, loud enough that Eric turned around to see what was happening. Tom took off after him.
“What’s going on?” Eric asked.
“Nothing. Another wave.” Tom shouldered him, urging him to keep walking. “Let’s go before my keeper calls.”
Tom could barely contain himself. This was rich. Totally awesome. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do yet, but the opportunity for something really big was there.
Like Saturday night—the company dinner. God, this was too perfect.
In his excitement, he nearly tripped over his own feet.
All he had to do was keep Eric away from that window for the next two days.
2
TEN MORE MINUTES. FIFTEEN tops, and the store would be closing, judging by the steady stream of shoppers exiting the Fifth Avenue doors. She could do this. Wait fifteen minutes before she sprinted to the bathroom. Dallas simply had to stop thinking about how her bladder was ready to explode.
Even though she’d purposely laid off the coffee and Cokes made available in the dressing room, the knowledge that she was stuck in the window and couldn’t leave was enough to make her desperate for a pit stop. One five-minute break in four hours just didn’t cut it. She and Trudie were going to have a serious discussion tomorrow.
Dallas heard her partner’s stomach growl and used every ounce of self-control to keep a straight face. Steve did an admirable job of remaining impassive himself, and she kept her gaze fixed on the fire hydrant across the street. It was easier that way, to focus on one particular object until the soft beep told them it was time to change positions. Besides, making eye contact with anyone in the crowd outside wasn’t a good idea. Made it much harder to keep a straight face and not blink.
She’d almost blown it earlier. Two yuppies had stopped and stared, obviously more interested in her bikini than the window display. The taller one had caught her eye with his dark wavy hair and light eyes and a tanned face with a deep cleft in his strong chin that had a way of sending her thoughts in a dangerous direction.
The announcement came that the store would be closing in five minutes.
Freedom. Hallelujah!
She and Steve exchanged a brief glance.
That’s when she noticed him. Approaching the window. One of the guys she’d seen earlier. Not the good-looking one with the dimpled chin but the shorter one.
He stopped dead center and stared at her intensely, thoroughly, as if she were a museum exhibit. She tried not to move, not to give any sign of acknowledgement. Then he mouthed something to her, but still she refused to focus on his lips or try to understand what he was saying.
Panic knotted her tummy, and she tried to disguise the deep unsteady breath she took. Just what she needed—some pervert following her home later. She’d have to duck out the employee door, maybe even get Steve to share a cab with her.
The guy walked up to the security guard, who stood at the door making sure no one slipped inside, and the two men shook hands. They apparently knew each other, which brought Dallas some relief.
Behind her, Trudie’s assistant opened the door to the window, at the same time dimming the display lights, a signal it was over. They were free. At least until tomorrow night. She and Steve looked at each other. He smiled. She groaned. Of course, he looked as if he were barely out of his teens. His back and legs probably didn’t ache as hers did.
“You okay?” he asked, his incredibly pretty blue eyes clouding with genuine concern. Nice guy. Idaho born and bred, he’d only moved to the city six months ago. He’d change. They all did.
“Terrific.”
“You look awful.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He actually blushed as he stepped aside to let her out first.
She grinned. Too bad he wasn’t older. “Aren’t you a little stiff?”
His brows rose in surprise. “Why?”
“Never mind.”
She climbed out, smiling ruefully to herself. It wasn’t that she was in bad shape. Just the opposite. Working in construction for the past year and a half had probably gotten her into the best condition she’d ever been. This was different. Holding the same position for an hour at a time wasn’t easy. Nothing like it had been eight years ago in college.
A couple of stragglers leaving the store stopped to stare at her. She accepted a robe from Trudie’s assistant and pulled it on over the tiny red bikini before heading for the dressing room. The lights flickered—the store’s final warning for everyone to leave.
“Hey, you wanna go for a drink?” Steve threw his robe over his shoulder.
Drink? Bathroom? Oh, God. “How about a rain check?”
