didn’t reply, but in his opinion, any man who’d turn down the opportunity to meet Jamie Warren wasn’t exactly a candidate for Mensa.
“Here’s her phone number,” he said, writing it on a slip of paper. “I’ll give her a call, clear the way, but the rest is up to you.”
“No problem,” Bill said, pocketing the tickets.
Rich felt downright noble as he returned to his own office. Jamie was one hell of a woman and it was about time someone figured that out. Bill Hastings wasn’t nearly good enough for her, but he was an amiable guy. Without too much trouble Rich could picture Bill and Jamie a few years down the road, raising two or three kids.
He felt good about that, better than he’d felt about anything in quite a while.
That evening, Rich went to Jason’s apartment on his way home and was relieved to find his brother was out. That meant he could delay telling him what had become of the play-off tickets. It was definitely something he had to do in person, he told himself.
After killing an hour or two at his own apartment, Rich decided to drive over to Jamie’s. He rang her bell and waited. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be home. He was ready to turn away when he heard activity on the other side.
“Who is it?” she called.
“The big bad wolf.”
The sound of her laugh was followed by the click of the lock. She opened the door and Rich saw that he must have gotten gotten her out of the tub. She’d hastily donned a white terrycloth robe that clung to her damp skin.
“Rich,” she said, surprise elevating her voice, “what are you doing here?” As she spoke, she finished knotting the belt around her waist.
The robe fell open below that, revealing a glimpse of thigh. Rich was having trouble taking his eyes off it and didn’t answer right away. His gaze followed a natural progression downward, and he was momentarily astounded to see what long shapely legs she had. Funny, he’d never noticed them before. He grinned, thinking Bill was in for a very pleasant shock.
“Go ahead and finish your bath,” he said casually, walking into her kitchen. “I’ll make myself at home while I wait.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Take your time,” he called out. He stuck his head inside the refrigerator and helped himself to an apple. He’d just taken his last bite when Jamie returned. As best he could tell, she’d run a brush through her hair and put on slippers. But that was it. The robe rode over her slender hips like a second skin.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Generally he went out on Fridays, but there wasn’t anything he particularly felt like doing that evening.
“Got anything in mind?”
“A movie. I’ll even let you choose.”
“I suppose you’re going to make me pay my own way?”
“I might.” He grinned, pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. The suggestion that they attend a movie had been as much of a surprise to him as it obviously was to Jamie. As much of a surprise as offering Bill the play-off tickets…
Actually, it was a damn good idea. This way he could lead naturally, casually, into the subject of Bill. The last thing he wanted Jamie to think was that he’d arranged anything.
The movie was indeed a stroke of genius, Rich decided as they drove to the theater. He’d always enjoyed Jamie’s company and never more so than now. An evening with her was an escape from the games and pretenses involved in taking out someone new—and it was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves. He didn’t like to say much, particularly to his family, but Pamela had hurt him badly. He no longer trusted his judgement when it came to women. Oh, he dated. Often. But he was tired of all the games. Pamela hadn’t just broken his heart; the damage she’d inflicted went deeper than that. She’d caused him to doubt himself.
Rich pulled into a movie complex in the Seattle suburbs, close to Jamie’s condominium. He bought their tickets, but she insisted