Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1) (12 page)

Wow, that felt easy, too easy but anyway I just
let it go
.  Great!  As I go to place my cell phone down, it vibrates and beeps in my hand indicating I have another text message:

Jonas:
Dalton.  We need to talk.
 

I’m glaring at the screen like he’s going to crawl out of it and from the way my face muscles are contorting, it is not a good look on me.  I’m not getting in touch with him because he commands it and I’m certainly not going to after what he interrupted this afternoon at the lake.  I don’t answer to him, I’m not one of his navy minions so I calmly decide to ignore it and carry on with my night out and business dinner.

It took me about an hour to get to Eaglestown and I decide to park at the hotel where Mig must be staying because the parking lot looks well lit.  It means I won’t be wandering back to the car in the dark later.  As I’m waiting for the waitress at the seating stand I run through a mental check of everything and in essence this is a waste of time because I’m already here.  I have my laptop and I can remember where I put the pictures, which is the most important detail and next is a check that the skirt of my dress is not tucked in my panties. 

The dress I am wearing is classed as ‘mid range LBD’.  It’s not ‘high’ so all out sexy and nightclub worthy that says I’m a tigress come and get me and it’s not ‘low’ so not formal enough to be considered office or funeral attire.  It is ‘mid’ range and combines the two ends of the spectrum, it’s mid length with a flare skirt, capped sleeves and allows for a hint of cleavage but still with a degree of appropriateness.  I’ve teamed it with a huge grey chunky necklace and matching bracelet that are both old and unusual but go perfectly with the slate grey peep toe heels I’m wearing which show off my lovely pale pink painted toes.  The color sets off my feet and doesn’t look too much, it also looks good on my short practical finger nails.  I’ve got my laptop and bits and pieces in my big girl tote type purse and it’s a mixture of grey patchwork leather and I think it’s pretty whilst functional.  In all honesty I should have probably left some of the stuff at home because it feels a bit more bulky than usual and reminds me of the part in Mary Poppins where she pulls a lampshade out of her magic carpet bag.

“Miss Frobisher, this way please Mr Smithson is already at the table.  Can I get you a drink?” asks the waitress.

“Yes, please, a lime and soda water would be great, thanks,” I reply.

As she walks me over to the table I’m praying that she is leading me to the cute guy in corner at a table tapping away on his laptop.  When we approach he looks up, closes the lid on the laptop, rises from his seat and
oh my, he’s a dish.
 

He’s a little taller than me, maybe six foot or six foot one and dressed in a really dark navy blue pair of jeans, they’re fancy and smart but he’s teamed them with a comfy looking pair of brown colored brogues that are lace up and have a chunky sole and they totally go with the jeans.  He’s wearing a cream shirt with small, dainty multi colored flowers all over it.  It’s fitted and open at the collar and it’s also tucked in but not in a neat way; more sort of casually rushed and it looks great on him.  Over the top of this is a fitted jacket, the same style as a suit jacket but less formal because the material is thicker and more rugged.  It’s an odd color, a kind of brown and green mixture with a tiny checked pattern running through it that is the faintest red but is noticeable.  What he’s wearing is a crazy ensemble that totally works and is perfectly stylish; this is a guy that knows what suits him and it makes him look professional and functional all in one go.  But his face...

He’s got short blonde hair on top that is messed up with a tiny bit of product so it looks haphazard but it’s shaped and shaved nicely at the back.  It sets off his light blue eyes nicely, but oddly I’m drawn to the stubbly beard he’s sporting and I say oddly because I’ve never found facial hair on a guy appealing before, but this is gorgeous.  It’s not full but you can tell he shaves to keep it under control and where it grows to now is perfect, I actually want to rub my hands over his cheeks and down his chin.  The stubble extends a bit and is still in play over his Adam’s apple.  Lastly I notice that he’s smiling at me and it’s a great smile.

“Dolly, nice to meet you,” he says as he extends his arm and hand out for a formal greeting, he’s also doing that very polite thing of waiting to take his seat until I take mine.  A very quick glance at his left hand reveals no wedding ring, great.

I shake his hand back and reply with “Hi Mig, I hope I’m not interrupting your work, you looked hard at it.”

“No not at all, just catching up on some bits.”

I’ll be honest right now, this guy is a lot sexier than my imagination had conjured up and I’m attracted to him.  I’ve never gone for facial hair but Mig has convinced me otherwise because he’s very rugged with it and the non-beard absolutely completes the package.  Thank God, his telephone voice matches him and my expectations.  It’s going to make this a more memorable and definitely enjoyable dinner.  His laptop has been pushed to one of the empty dining places at the table and we’re passing general conversation, filler type stuff until my drink arrives, he’s also asked for a second drink which is bottled beer.  Another hot and manly buzzer alert goes off in my brain.  I’ve popped my laptop bag on the floor next to me and as we’re taking the drinks from the waitress he says “How about we order dinner first and get the work thing out of the way whilst it’s being cooked?  Then we’re clear to enjoy the food and the rest of the evening.”

“Sure.”  I like the sound of that.

“Tell me Dolly of Hawkstown, what do you like to do?”  I wonder if all his comments and questions will have a flirty side to them or whether my orgasm entree with Tommy earlier has left me wanting something more.  Shit, Tommy; am I really sitting here trying to be all desirable and femme fatale with a stranger when not many hours ago I was partaking in some serious and heavy stuff with another guy?

Christ, this isn’t me, I’m not the kind of girl that has lots of attachments on the go at once.  I know Tommy said no expectations, have fun and see where this goes and get to know each other, but still having two guys in the same day is outside of my experience bubble.  I make a quick decision and it’s the right decision too, nothing can happen right now, tonight and most definitely not whilst there is a work thing between us.  I want him to respect my work and my skill in a profession I love and I want the opportunity to build on this for my career, I also owe it to Tommy to try and get to know him better first.  I imagine he’s not going to be entertaining other girls whilst we’re seeing if there is anything more than a quick fumble between us, he doesn’t have that kind of reputation.  I inwardly high five myself for my mid range LBD choice, it’s perfect for where I've just decided this evening is going, it says cute, but tonight it definitely says work only.

“My passion is photography; I love the town where I was raised and have a great family and a close friendship circle, each of those and the different job assignments bring diversity to my life that is rewarding.”  It sounds like a response to an interview question, but it’s honestly how I feel.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve seen a little bit of your work, the odd photograph that is on the public internet that you’ve submitted to a magazine here or there and some of the stuff that your local town paper has used.  My usual first port of call for information, Google, doesn’t give me a great deal, which means I’m keen to understand what makes you tick.”

“I’m a local girl at heart and happy shaping my craft at the moment and if you don’t mind me saying, you’re almost talking like you’re not expecting much from my shots.”  I want to be honest with him, well, where my work is concerned anyway.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what to expect.  The piece I’m working on has been coming together for months.  Ideally we want to run it soon because it links in with the recent NFL drafts and we were specifically looking at the Cobras.  A lot of our readers are big fans and donors to the team.  Secrecy, competition and ethics means that they’ve only let me see certain aspects, after all they wouldn’t want to tip off the competition,” he explains and it sounds intriguing.

“I didn’t realize they were so protective over stuff like that,” I’m amazed really.

“Oh yeah, but this means I’ve had to spread my article subject base a bit wider and by chance it grew into a piece which became ‘The life of an NFL player.’  The Cobras have let me cover some players, games and generic team training, a few players have also signed up so I can cover their life and how spin off work like advertising contracts assist that lifestyle.  But the stuff I want, the behind the scenes stuff is hard to get at as they don’t want me exposing tactics or the odd pre-game team ritual they do for good luck.  An old friend of the family was on the verge of being drafted at one point and after a chat with him he said the life and career of a pro ball player begins at high school and that should be covered too, Chris said the high school coach was worth a look at.”

“Chris?”

“Chris Hales,” he says, “do you know him?”

“I do,” and I smile at him.

“Well that’s a telling smile,” he says.

“No, not really, no big story, but he’s a good friend.”

“Well it’s a small world.  Anyway, I sent my intern to a game to see if he was doing stuff I could use and that’s when you were spotted and here we are.”

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“So do I Dolly, so do I,” he replies and I blush frantically and grab for a sip of my drink.  The waitress comes back, we’ve been chatting over our menus and I haven’t really looked at mine.  After a super quick scan I pick a grilled steak, I request it to be cooked medium rare and ask for a side salad and crispy wedged potatoes to go with it.  He’s having the same apart from swapping the wedges for a baked potato with lots of mayo and black pepper.

I take the opportunity to grab my laptop once the waitress leaves and I hope that steering things back to a work front will give me time to figure out how to deal with the other aspect of this evening.  I’m not often in this position of uncertainty but I want to make sure I’m reading him correctly before I put the brakes on, I also want to do it in a manner that isn’t offensive and won’t harm my chance at a future working partnership.

“OK, show me what you’ve got.”  I smile at him and hold back any smart comeback comment and continue to watch my laptop screen until it boots up.  We’re sitting at a traditional square four seat table and on opposite sides, so he moves to one of the adjacent corner positions next to me as I open the file and being to work through the shots, I ask him “Do you want me to explain what you’re seeing or just let you browse?”

“A quick flip through first would be good. I’ll try and flip at the speed of the reader’s eye like someone who may be glancing through the magazine.  Those that stand out we’ll go back and take a closer look at.”

I leave him for a few moments and check my phone; I’m a little nervous to be honest and I don’t want to see his reaction or lack of one if that is the case.  My phone has another two text messages, the same one from Jonas telling me, not asking me, to call him and one that says:

Neely:
You’re not home.  I am.  Come here when you get back Dolls
.

I acknowledge one of them and ignore the other and then I notice that Mig is whizzing back to the beginning of the folder.

“You’ve got some great shots, you’re good.” I smile at his response.

“Come on, you can admit you weren’t expecting much.”

“Oh, I’m pleasantly surprised on all fronts.”  He catches my eye as he says this and I can feel myself blush, so I look away quickly and tuck one of the curly pieces of my hair behind my ear in embarrassment.

“And if it’s possible she just got cuter,” he says quietly.

“OK, so the shots?”  I need to bring this back to work.

“Yes, the shots, tell me about these ones.”  I describe the ones that are of Sonny frantically going over team tactics with a little A4 whiteboard and pen, he points at the board but his eyes convey his message to the players.  Mig has also selected a shot of the team hugging and fist bumping before the game starts; it’s a clever shot because you see a hint of the cheer squad in the background looking as excited as the team.  There are a series of shots of Sonny congratulating individual players and talking to new ones coming off the bench to join the field of play.  But one of the best ones is of Sonny showing frustration first, followed by anger and then sadness as an injured player is carried off the field. It’s almost as captivating as the sorrowful look on the face of the player himself.

“You’ve managed to get a great range of human emotions in most of the shots, they cover a wide spectrum of feelings that some people don’t experience in a week of their normal lives.” I can tell he means this with endearment.

“Thank you.”  There really is nothing more to say than that, it’s a great comment and Wally would be beaming like a proud dad if he heard it.

“Do you think you can use some?”  It’s a tentative question and I’m anxious about the answer.

“Absolutely,” he smiles, I’m thrilled that he’s confident in my capabilities and recognized my passion. His return grin can only be described as satisfied.

“Do you have any other material on your laptop I can look at? I may be in a position to recommend you for other work with the photography department at the magazine.”