His Perfect Woman (Urban Hearts Series Book 1) (4 page)

She’d been hosting a training session for about a hundred people in a Holiday Inn. It was an early Wednesday morning and she’d hit the tiny workout room before daybreak, trying to get a quick jaunt on the treadmill before the rat race of her day began.

She couldn’t tell if this was memory, or dream, and somewhere in the foggy regions of her sleep deprived brain, she hoped it was a dream.

Above the steady beat of her trainers on the treadmill, music pushed her forward—the girly voices and heavy bass thump of the Veronicas blaring in her ears. She shifted, comfortable in Jonathan’s old sweats and a ragged T-shirt. She was well into ten minutes, a light sweat across her forehead when someone stepped up to the treadmill next to her. She felt the presence and kept on running, eyes closed. It took another two minutes before she actually saw him. Ross Berenger, the new consultant she’d hired the month previous was jogging beside her, his own I-pod cords hanging from his ears.

Azure’s surprise must have blazed across her face because he gave a short laugh, said howdy and kept on going. She stumbled just slightly, losing the rhythm of her step and her focus on the music.

Finding herself worrying about how she looked, she wondered if she was breathing too hard. Were there sweat stains under her arms? Did she smell? And most of all, why was she such a doofus, thinking this way? She managed another five minutes before giving up, switching the machine off and stepping away. She tried not to let the wobble in her legs show as she walked to the shelf of towels. Consciously sucking in her stomach, she wiped a substantial glow from her face and gulped water from her reusable water bottle.

“So Ms. Worth, this is the last place I expected to find you.” He kept jogging. The ear buds now hung lax around his neck. His voice was smooth and even, not even remotely out of breath. She turned toward him. He looked extraordinary. His brown hair was conservatively cut, but had an unruly thickness that made her want to run her hand along the top of his head.  She could see herself doing that. But he was tall, out of reach and running and she didn’t know him remotely well enough to even be thinking such things.

“Really? Where were you expecting to find me?”

“Oh, I dunno. The bar maybe, or making sure the strawberries are non-lethal in the banquet hall.”

She laughed at his reference—an incident that happened at his first speech in St Louis.

“The bar? At five am? This is Sioux City, not Vegas, but checking strawberries? That’s definitely on my list.”

“Good thing…and true, it’s not Vegas.” He switched off the treadmill and stepped down, coming toward her. The barest trace of moisture gleamed in the hollow of his throat above his black v-neck shirt. The dark fabric clung to his chest and shoulders and his biceps flexed as he grabbed a towel. Up close, his eyes were the same as she remembered the first time she met him—a clear startling jade.

“But now I know where to look for you in Vegas. If we ever do a conference there,” he said. 

Az liked the sound of his voice. It wasn’t the deeper timbre he used for speeches, but softer, with a definite mid-western everyday accent.

“I like Vegas,” she said in a lame squeak. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s on the schedule for us, CTC, I mean.” She had to clarify the use of inclusive pronouns, not wanting him to think ‘us’ meant ‘us’. He didn’t reply—simply wiped the white terrycloth across his face, through his short hair and over the back of his neck. She shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t expect to find you here…in Iowa, I mean.”

“I do have clients other than Conway Titensor, you know.” He flashed a row of even white teeth and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “I’m teaching a course on middle management for Bradford Accounting.” He shrugged, rolling cotton encased shoulders as though loosening up to bench press a few hundred pounds. Azure’s mind drifted—maybe he could use a spotter.  “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Worth.” He turned away, attitude abrupt as though he’d been insulted at her change of subject.

“Azure. Please call me Azure, or Az, actually,” she said to his back. And what a nice back it was. The t-shirt was tight enough to show the definition of his muscles. He wore loose fitting gym shorts with an elastic waist, and turned in time to catch her looking at his ass.

He grinned as she stammered. “Um, nice to see you again too—unexpected, but nice. I’m looking forward to next month’s convention in Memphis.” His head tilted at her in some unspoken question. She plowed ahead “It’s not Vegas, but Memphis has some great places.”

“Great bars at five a.m.?” His shoulders relaxed.

“Well, not at five a.m., but yeah, some pretty good ones, with good blues, jazz and some top shelf vodka.”

“So maybe you’ll show me around when we get there?”

Something about the way he said
we
, as though they were already partners, a couple, something intimate that she couldn’t define. She swallowed another gulp of water, a little zing going through her at his question.

“Ah, sure. I could do that.” 

“Good.”  His expression relaxed into genuine openness. “I need to finish this up.” He gestured at the equipment filled room. “Before the six o’clock crowd gets here.” He scanned the small room, half of the ten treadmills already occupied.

“Yeah, I need to grab a shower… meet with…” She trailed off, not really anything to say. She had no meetings till nine and again the thought ran through her head that maybe she could stay—work out longer. Two meetings with this guy and she’d turned into a stalker. 

“Kitchen staff?” He interrupted her thoughts. “Tell them to cut the cantaloupe smaller too.”

“That’s it.” She nodded and pushed at the glass door, which held solid. He moved beside her and pushed the adjacent door open. She glanced up at the glass under her hand, reading the words
entrance
etched on it. She stifled an embarrassing snort at her error, brushing by him on the way out.

“Azure, wait,” he whispered and she stopped—his bare arm in front of her, his breath above and behind her. His warmth surrounded her. She heard the cholesterol watchers jogging behind them—the thump of shoes on treadmills. “You have something,” he reached up and thumbed a something off her cheek. A smudge, a drop of sweat, an eyelash—it didn’t matter, because at his touch, her breath caught—their eyes locked on each other and she couldn’t move.

“Excuse me.” She broke away from his gaze to see an overly thin woman waiting to enter. Her head was adorned with a high ponytail of wispy thin hair. Ross mumbled a sorry and stepped aside to let the woman through. At the sight of him, the woman lost her irritation and gained a crooked smile. He nodded at her and turned back to Azure, who had recovered enough to mumble an awkward thank you.

In her dream, he caught up with her again, pulling her to him, a strong arm going around her waist, his hand tilting her face up to his and kissing her—kissing her open mouthed and soft, in the middle of the hotel hallway, ignoring other guests, oblivious to the housekeeping staff speaking in quiet Spanish behind their carts. In her dream, all she could feel was his mouth on her, the way his slightly damp torso was pressed against her own. But tonight, it was not the dream. It was only the memory and the last part never happened.

“Ugh!” Azure sat up and flipped her pillow over, smacking it angrily before plopping back down, trying to erase the vision of him from her mind.

Memphis was amazing. Ross had never been there, and other than Graceland, he didn’t know what else there was to see. His speech had gone very well, the panel had been cake, and now he could relax and enjoy the rest of the trip. On the last night of the convention, the hotel was a madhouse of drunk and carousing lab technicians and Az and her crew decided to have a drink on the town, taking some of the consultants with them.

Their first stop was a dance club with blaring house music. They were a party of seven and Ross stayed at the bar with Azure and her co-planner Toby, as the others bounced their way through a Kanye song. He nursed one overpriced beer and watched two women dance close to each other, writhing in each other’s space. His glance wandered back to find Azure watching him with one raised eyebrow. He matched her expression and she laughed. She leaned close to Toby and said something Ross couldn’t hear. Toby saluted her with his drink and wandered to the dance floor.

“What was that all about?” Ross asked.

“I just spotted Toby’s type, watching him from across the room.”

“Oh. Your crew seems like a lot of fun.”

“They are, though sometimes, I feel like the housemother at a fraternity, even the women. Actually, the women are worse, but they get the job done. There goes Toby.” She nodded her head across the floor and Ross had to really look to make out Toby’s frame on the other side of the writhing bodies and strobe lights. Toby leaned toward the ear of a tall thin guy of indeterminate age, but definitely a guy.

“Toby’s gay?” Ross asked.

“Yep.” She laughed at Ross’s look of surprise. “Most people don’t get it either at the first meeting. He’s very reserved, unless you get him near a club. He’s a great tech. Nobody does communications better than Toby.”

“That’s what counts.”

“Nice job today, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He finished his beer. “You want another? Or um....you did offer to show me around Memphis. I think you mentioned some really great jazz places.”

“You’re asking me to ditch my crew?” She played with her glass.

“I’m getting older by the minute in here.” He smiled. She laughed again and downed her drink. They made their way out, stopping only so she could tell the closest co-worker she was leaving.

“You’re not that old, you know.” Azure spoke as she watched for breaks in the sidewalk. It was early yet, the club scene just getting started, music seeping out from doors opening and closing. People drove slowly, scouring the streets for parking. 

“Clubs are fine, I just gotta be in the mood you know?” Ross leaned toward her. “And it’s easier to talk when I’m not competing with David Guetta.”

“But I love Guetta.” She sang the chorus of the latest pop tune. She had a good singing voice, higher than her normal sexy pitch. “Titanium?” She named the title. He thought he recognized it.

“You sing too. There is no limit to your talents, Ms. Worth.”

“Oh you have barely scratched the surface, Mr. Berenger. I am multi-talented. But singing is usually just for my car, and an occasionally drunken karaoke stint.”

“Great! Let’s go find us a karaoke bar.”

“No way, you said you wanted to hear some jazz.”

“I do, but if you really want to serenade me, I’m up for anything.”

They stopped at the corner, and waited for the light. She reached over, looping her arm through his.

“Well, let’s just see where the evening takes us, shall we?” She looked up at him. She was shorter than Dani by an inch or two, or perhaps Dani just consistently wore skyscraper heels. Nevertheless, he liked the feel of her frame leaned into his, there on the corner of Union and Third, waiting for a green light. He covered her hand for a fraction of a second.

True to her word, she knew her way around the clubs and bars and they ended up on Beale St. following wherever the music took them. It was the most relaxed he’d been since he’d arrived.

They talked about anything and nothing, the conversation going from work to books to music and back again until he stopped her in front of a place called the Crescent Club. The music was haunting and hopeful and intoxicating.

“Come on.” She took his hand. “I’m thirsty.” She flashed her ID at a young black man at the door and Ross followed her in, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the club. They still held hands as she wound her way through the crowd to a table that had just emptied. It was loud enough that they didn’t talk much, and the place was packed so they pulled their chairs close together, their shoulders bumping companionably whenever he reached for his drink. Finally, he put his arm on the back of her chair to avoid jostling her. She didn’t pull away, merely smiled at him and went back to watching the pianist work his way through a Miles Davis classic.

“This is amazing.” He leaned in during a break in the music. He wasn’t drunk, but a pleasant haze had come over him, melting away his usual reserve.

“Thought you’d like it. I mean, it’s not Vegas, but...”

“You kidding? It’s better.” He grinned and then realizing he held it too long, he relaxed his mouth. She watched his lips and licked her own. They were so close he could almost taste the lime off her Vodka Collins. Another song started and she swayed back in her seat, her attention back to the stage.

The club was dark and intimate, the noisiest part being the large bar at the back of the room. They were two tables away from the stage with an excellent view of the keyboard and stand-up bass. She had talked to him about the finer points of jazz musicians, Davis, Parker, Thelonius Monk. He hadn’t been much of a jazz fan, but the more he listened, sitting there in the dimness, close to the heady feel of her as she drummed her fingers on the small table, the more he wanted to stay in that moment. The saxophone wailed into a rendition of My Favorite Things ala John Coltrane and he felt himself humming along. She flashed a smile. Had she heard him?

The quartet finished their second set and Ross and Azure roused themselves from the table, seeking food. They ended up at another restaurant bar, ordering wings and nachos and beer. He was having a great time.

“Did you grow up in Chicago?” Az licked sauce off her index finger. Finally, a girl who ate something besides lettuce. He scooped up a cheese laden tortilla chip and held it while he answered.

“Born and raised. My parents still live in the old neighborhood, Hickory Hills.”

“And your girlfriend’s from there too?”

He crunched into the chip.

“How did you know I had a girlfriend?”

“You have that look about you,” she said simply. “An ‘I’m taken’ kind of aura about you.”

“You noticed.”

“I pay attention.” She smiled.

He shrugged, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “We’ve been going out since my first year at Vanguarde, moved in together last year.”

“So it’s serious.”

“Um, yeah I guess. There was this great place on the West side, but it’s expensive. She didn’t count on me branching out on my own this soon so it’s been a little rocky.” Why had he told her that? He needed to quit drinking or talking or both. “Not Dani and I but, you know.”

“So why didn’t she know you’d go out on your own?” Az swiveled toward him slightly, their knees colliding softly under the lip of the bar. She moved away and he edged forward a fraction. “I mean, you seem to have had this plan for a while now, why would she be surprised?”

“Well yeah, she knew, but I think she figured since I was at the firm and making good money that I wouldn’t want to leave. Not many people are that crazy.”

“Some people would see it that way.”

“But not you?”

“No, I think it’s a gutsy thing to do, give up a measure of security to follow a dream. That takes courage. Not a lot of people have that.”

“Thanks.” He felt warm under her gaze. Or maybe it was the extra spicy salsa on the nachos. He’d have some gum on their way back to the hotel. He wouldn’t want to kiss her with chili breath. Wait, what? Kiss her? He kicked the image to the back of his mind.  Guilt mixed with his excitement and he shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool.

“Ross?”   Her eyes hadn’t left him. He wished they would. He tipped his already empty glass toward his lips, hoping for a drop of relief. “I think it’s my turn,” she said.

“God, yes,” he breathed out.

“What?”

“Yes?” He had no idea what he was saying. He was usually better than this, more in control of himself and women got flustered around
him
, not the other way around.

“You want another beer? It’s my turn to buy.” She pushed her glass toward the inside edge of the bar.  The female bartender pulled two more from the tap and headed their way. She’d been making eyes at Ross since they sat down, but Az barely glanced at her as she thanked her and asked his girlfriend’s name.

“Dani? Danielle. Dani for short.” He nodded at the bar keep as she put his beer in front of him. She lowered fake lashes and smiled a familiar I-get-off-in-an-hour smile. He smiled back automatically.

Azure startled him with her out-loud laugh.

“So how does Dani feel about that?” Az indicated the curvy blonde bartender who’d walked away. She didn’t miss much. 

“Dani doesn’t know.” The words came out before he could stop them. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not like that.” He stopped. “You really think I’d just hook up with good looking barkeep?”

“No, I don’t think so, but
she
does.” Az replied, nodding her head toward the blonde.

“Well back in my college days, but that’s long gone. I’m not that guy anymore. Dani would kick my ass, but she gets hit on all the time, so she kind of understands.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“My girl getting hit on? We trust each other. She’s a model.”

“Of course she would be beautiful.”

“She is. Dani is great.” Ross pulled out his phone and scrolled through his picture gallery. There were lots of pictures of the two of them, but he found one of just her, standing beside a sailboat, the sunlight glinting off her long auburn hair. He explained about her job, saying with some pride that she could make it big in New York if she wanted. He mentioned family and kids almost before he realized it and Az traded phones with him. Her son was cute, dark eyes that crinkled like hers, a mop of unruly curls.

“He’s a cute kid. You should have more.”

She didn’t say anything right away. A definite chill ran between them and he knew something was wrong. When she told him about her troubled first pregnancy, and not having more kids, he felt both her hesitancy and her grief. She tried to pass it off as unimportant, but her tone of voice had a wistfulness that made him want to take her in his arms.  

He ran his thumb across the phone, another picture slid into place. He didn’t recognize the bikini clad girl as the one beside him, at least not right away. She seemed younger, happier somehow, and spectacular, trim waist and full breasts, a smile brighter than sunshine.  A thin good looking man had his arm around her. Baby Eli had tiny orange floaters on his arms and was held happily between them. The domestic bliss picture filled Ross with happy melancholy. She watched him gaze at the picture until he finally handed it back to her.

If life adds up to a series of moments, that was one. The moment when their hands touched as she took her phone back from him. They were turned toward each other, and suddenly everyone in the bar faded into background noise around them. His knee bumped hers gently and he stayed there, not moving away. He looked at her and cursed the dimness for obscuring his view of her incredible eyes, but he could see her lips and they became a lifeline. She curled her top lip under and her tongue caressed it before retreating. Ross jumped almost imperceptibly as he realized his boxers were suddenly too tight. She looked away, and he made some excuse that they should go, waving at the pouting bartender to settle the tab.

“Ross? You listening?” Dani came around the corner of the bedroom. He was sprawled on the couch, watching an infomercial about the latest and greatest in sandwich makers. The guy was making roast turkey with provolone and the cheese was melting over the golden brown triangles in perfect cheesy goodness.

“Ross?

“I’m listening.”

“No, you’re not. You’re mentally eating that sandwich.” She didn’t sound irritated though, only amused.

“Yeah. Hey, we got any provolone cheese?” His eyes did not move away from the screen, even though she modeled her new skinny jeans just to his right.

“Yes, but you’re making it yourself. I’m headed out with Sandy.”

He glanced up at her.

“Again?  We were with them all friggin day yesterday.” Sandy was a good friend of Dani’s. Her boyfriend Chad was from a prestigious Chicago family andRoss ha
d
always thought of him as a spoiled rich kid with a perpetual maturity issue.

“That was different, it was all of us and you can’t really talk on a bike ride.”

“Yes you can. Chad never managed to shut up the whole eight miles. Can’t we just hang out today? Blow Sandy off and let’s do something here.”

“What? Watch infomercials? Sandy’s my friend and she needs some girl time. It’s probably about Chad.  I won’t be long, and I know you don’t want me to bring her here.”