I stared at my computer screen as the cursor blinked, judging me for the amount of time I’d been stuck on an opening sentence for my current assignment.
Without experiencing a Chicago winter, you cannot call yourself a true Chicagoan, I typed.
I shook my head.No, too harsh.
I deleted the sentence and tried again.
What better way to appreciate our city than to endure a Chicago winter?
Suddenly feeling as if I were being watched, I tore my eyes from the screen and met a golden-brown gaze that always made my heart skip.
“You have impressive powers of concentration.” David’s deep voice resounded through my office, almost as imposing as he himself.
I fluttered my eyelashes, waiting for him to fade away like the apparition he had to be. When he didn’t, I asked, “How long have you been standing there?”
He smiled and peeled himself from the doorjamb. “Not long.”
I glanced behind him quickly as he crossed the office to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I just had my follow-up interview.”
“Follow-up?” I asked.
“For ‘Most Eligible.’”
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“With Lisa. She e-mailed me some questions, but,” David paused, a faint smile forming on his face, “I thought it would be more convenient to stop by in person.”
He was a sight for sore eyes, but I couldn’t tell him that. I glanced down at my desk. “I nixed the follow-up idea, but I guess they’re doing it anyway.”
He leaned his long arms on my desk and peered at me. “What’re you working on, Miss Germaine?”
“Editing an article. ‘Fifty Things to do in Chicago This Winter.’” I shrugged and added with sarcasm, “Serious stuff.”
“There’s enough serious stuff out there already,” he said.
I meant to reply, but words escaped me. David’s gaze, probing, seemed to make contact with my skin, pushing, pervading me.
I glanced away, cleaning off my desk to avoid him, but my eyes kept returning to his.
“Done for the day?” he asked.
“I’m meeting Gretchen for dinner.”
“Where?”
I nodded over my shoulder. “Just across the river.”
“That’s on my way,” he said. “I’ll take you.”
“I was going to walk, actually. It’s a nice evening.”
His eyes narrowed. “By yourself? It’ll be dark soon.”
“That’s all right.”
“Not with me, it isn’t.”
