“Emily's five. She's shy, soft-spoken. In a word, she's a girl.”
Refocusing on Keir, Ryan teased, “That much I figured out for myself.”
He chuckled, fidgeting with his coffee cup. “I mean she's very feminine. Emily's a girly girl. She loves dresses, dolls, being pretty. I suspect when she gets older, I'll have a diva on my hands.”
“I wish you luck with that one.”
“Thanks.”
“Really. They sound perfect. I think most women like to feel feminine, pretty.” Ryan grinned, thinking how much she loved her scented baths and fragrant candles at the end of a stressful day.
“What's so funny?”
“Nothing. I think it's cute. In my mind, I see this delicate little person all dressed up in lace and frilly stuff, looking like a little girl should.”
“That's my baby,” Keir agreed.
Ryan glanced at her watch and realized that they had been sitting in the cafe for over an hour. Smiling apologetically, she gathered their disposable items and dropped them on the tray. “Keir, I really enjoyed spending time with you, but I've got to finish my shopping and get home. Thank you for breakfast.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Yeah, you're right. We have been here a while.”
Scooting off of the chair, Ryan picked up the tray and dumped their trash. She returned and gathered her bag before heading for the door.
Keir followed.
Outside Starbucks, she faced him and tossed out, without thinking, “I really enjoyed talking with you. We'll have to do it again. Next time it's my treat.”
Grinning broadly, Keir said, “I'm holding you to that.”
Surprised, Ryan frowned. Holding her to what?
“Good luck with dinner tomorrow,” Keir added. He linked his fingers with hers and squeezed before walking away.
Tingling started in the pit of her stomach, stoking a gentle fire. It had been a while since anyone had made her feel this way. Laughing, Ryan shook her head and warned herself silently.
This is not a romance novel. Come down to earth.
Chapter 3
Exhausted from the hectic pace of Monday morning's shooting schedule, Ryan dropped into the chair at her desk and sighed. She ran an exasperated hand through her short hair, sending the soft wisps in every direction.
The reputation of this week's guest director as a perfectionist was well earned, and Ryan had worked frantically to stay one step ahead of him. So far, Eric Steinfell's tirades and brilliant directional skills had been dead-on. It made for an exhilarating but completely draining experience.
The workmen had completed construction of the sets for the next few days of filming, and now Ryan had to prepare them according to the shooting schedule, and she needed everything to be perfect. To do a final check on the sets, Ryan had decided to skip lunch, opting instead to run to the workroom for a few minutes of peace before the afternoon schedule began.
“So this is where you hide out.”
Ryan jumped at the sound of Keir's voice. What was he doing here? She swiveled her chair in his direction and found him standing in the doorway to the tiny workroom, which she shared with Glo. “Yes, it is. How are you?” she managed through a mouth that felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton.
Keir entered the confined space, sidestepping racks of clothes and props, filling the room with his presence. The fresh aroma of soap and aftershave wafted under her nostrils as he moved closer. Ryan examined the man from the top of his head to his Italian leather shoes. Keir looked exceptionally attractive in a steel gray suit, white shirt, and striped gray and black tie.
Ryan drew her tongue across her dry lips and asked, “What brings you to this end of the studio?”
“Curiosity,” Keir answered, taking a moment to look around him. A hint of laughter packed his voice. “I wanted to see where you work. Plus, spend a little extra time with you.” He stopped next to her desk, fingering the purple, velvety leaves of her African violet. “You don't know how refreshing it is to talk with someone who's not afraid to say what they mean and mean what they say. I don't get that often. You don't put on airs to impress me.”
“Thank you. I think.” With a nervous hand, she smoothed the hair at her nape, adding cautiously, “I was being me.”
“I know. And I like it.”
His warm regard tugged at her heartstrings.
I like you, too,
Ryan thought, taking a minute to compose herself.
They shared a special element that touched a place deep within her. Unfortunately, Ryan had been witness to how the television and movie business used women. She'd never been, and didn't plan to become, one of those females who achieved their career goals through casual sexual encounters with the industry giants.
Ryan lowered her eyelids to conceal her expression and thoughts. Glo's warning remained fresh in Ryan's thoughts. This job was great, and she didn't plan to do anything that would jeopardize it or focus the limelight too closely on her. “I guess I should say thank you.”
“Yeah, you should.” Keir grinned, sending her pulse into a gallop. “Plus, I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed having coffee with you Saturday.”
“Me, too,” Ryan admitted softly. At odd moments her thoughts had kept returning to Keir and the time they'd spent at Starbucks.
Keir perched on the edge of the desk, facing her. “How did it go?”
“What?” Ryan asked, finding his nearness disturbing, yet exciting.
“Dinner with your family.”
“Oh!” Ryan rolled her eyes heavenward, seeing her sister's scrunched-up, dill pickle expression in her head. “I found it less painful than major surgery.”
Keir laughed out loud. “Ouch. That bad?”
Ryan nodded, leaning back in her chair. She loved the deep, rich sound of his laugh and wanted to hear it again. “Losing a limb might have been easier.”
Chuckling, he muttered sympathetically, “Poor thing.”
“Well, they're family, and there's nothing I can do about them. They treat me like a four-year-old. And honestly, it's getting really old. It's beyond stale.” She dismissed the incident, with a quick shake of her head. “I don't want to talk about them anymore. Let's discuss more interesting topics. How was your weekend?”
“I had my kids. We enjoyed most of our time together. But, we encountered a few tense moments when I had to play the heavy.”
Frowning, Ryan sat up straight in her chair. “What happened?”
“I refused to take them to a PG-13-rated movie.” Keir folded his arms across his chest and jutted his chin out stubbornly.
“I don't blame you.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up, and a smile spread across his face. “Thanks. It's good to know I have backup if I need it. They wanted to see one of those action-packed blood fests with far too much blood, death, and bullets for me. So I told them no, and they were furious.”
“What does their mother let them watch?” Ryan asked.
Keir shook his head morosely. “A lot of stuff that they shouldn't see. But I can only regulate what they see when they're with me. I can't take responsibility for anything else.”
“I agree.” Ryan picked up a pen and twirled it between her fingers. “Your kids are twelve and five, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Neither child is old enough for a movie like that. No matter what their mother does, you have to follow your conscience.” She touched his arm, feeling the muscles respond to the light touch of her hand. “You did the right thing.”
“That's how I felt. Believe me, things were unpleasant for a while. But, I smoothed their ruffled feathers with dinner at IHOP. They love that place.”
“Eww!” She laughed softly at him, enjoying the moment and his story about the trials of being a regular dad.
“I'll tell you, after a weekend of nothing but kiddie movies, television programs, and conversation, I'm anxious for some adult interaction.”
“Oh?” Ryan's mind raced.
Where is Keir going with this?
“Yeah, which is my segue into a dinner invitation,” said Keir. “Not IHOP,” he hastily reassured her. “Wine, dinner, and good conversation. Do you like Chinese? I was thinking P.F. Chang's. What do you say?”
Surprised by the invitation, Ryan rested her head against the back of her chair and studied the man. She didn't know how to answer his question.
Yes, she found him very attractive. The wild, frivolous side of her personality wanted to jump in with both feet and give this new attraction all the attention it deserved. On the other hand, her cautious side recognized the pitfalls in saying yes, considering their work situation and Glo's warning. “Well ...” she trailed off, leaving his question unanswered.
His eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown. “Did I get this wrong? I felt something between us, and I thought you did, too.”
“Keir, what are you really asking”âshe pausedâ“exactly?”
“Food, a meal.” Confusion settled uncomfortably on his handsome features. “What do you think I'm asking for?”
Treading lightly, Ryan tried to explain. “You're a nice man.”
“I hear a but.”
“Look, I don't know what you've heard about me,” Ryan began, placing her hands on her chest. “And I know some people are very casual and comfortable with their sexuality. But I'm not that type of person.”
“I didn't ask you for sex.”
Embarrassed, Ryan felt her cheeks burn, and she refused to meet his gaze, while her hands fluttered in the air nervously. “I know. I'm just afraid that this will cause a lot of problems. I'm not into casual sex. I don't want you to get the wrong impression.”
“Wait.” Keir captured her hand and held it in his own. “Look, I like you. You're fun and easy to talk to.”
“Thank you.”
Annoyance flashed across his face, and his tone turned cool. “I don't want your thanks. I want you to have dinner with me.”
“Keir, I like this job, and I want to keep it. I'm not available or interested in an affair, which could turn into an avalanche of crap.”
Keir stood, and his green eyes narrowed and hardened. “I'm not a teenager with raging hormones. I'm a forty-two-year-old divorced father of two. And I want company.
Adult
company. I'd like to share a meal with a person whose opinion I respect. Someone I can talk to, eat with, and spend some quality adult time with. Besides, you owe me one,” he reminded.
“What are you talking about?” Her lips pursed, and she stared at him suspiciously.
“When we were at Starbucks, you said we should do this again. I'm calling in your marker.”
Exasperated, Ryan opened her mouth to respond. That had been a parting remark, nothing more. And Keir knew it.
He raised a hand, stopping her. “Ryan, you've been in this crazy business for a few years and understand how some directors operate. But it's not the way I work. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She sighed, lacing her fingers together to keep herself focused. “Keir, I like you, too. Now, it's my turn to make a point. I work for your production company. And I want to keep the reputation I have of being an upfront, dependable employee who doesn't cause trouble. No entanglements. I come to work, do my business, and go home.”
Keir leaned closer. His earnest expression made her ache to say yes. “I'm not asking you to jeopardize any of that. All I want is for you to share a meal with me.”
She gazed back at him, realizing how much she wanted to take him up on his offer. Ryan wanted to explore the feelings that were developing between them. So much of her time was spent alone, and she missed sharing dinner and conversation with someone who had the same interests as she had. She was tired of eating alone, being alone, and not having any fun in her life.
“I promise. This is about having dinner,” Keir assured her, with a persuasive smile on his full, sensual lips. “Dinner, good time, fun. I'll have you home by eleven,” he muttered in a piss-poor Chris Rock imitation. “How's that?”
Shaking her head, Ryan laughed, then said hesitatingly, “It sounds great. But, what about Glo? She doesn't approve of on-the-job romances.”
Keir pursed his lips. “I don't care. This is my personal life, not Glo's. It's got nothing to do with her or One Leaf Studio.”
“That's where you're wrong. It has everything to do with my job,” she responded in a sharp tone. “I have to work for and with Glo. I don't want problems.”
“It won't happen. We can keep our dinner plans under the wire. Between us. How does that work for you?”
“Well ...” she hedged, wavering. Would one meal really cause that much trouble? Her blood froze when she thought of Glo and what she might do if she found out that Ryan had gone out with the boss. Dinner with Keir didn't have to become a big deal, Ryan decided, dismissing Glo and her warning. She liked this man. If Ryan could believe what Keir said, she was safe. Slow and easy, that was the way to work this Keir thing. “Okay. What time?”
He grinned like a kid on summer vacation. “Great! How about eight? I'll pick you up at your place.”
Ryan shook her head, opened the middle drawer of her desk, and fished through the junk for a pencil and scratch pad, ready for directions to the restaurant. “You don't have to do that. Let's meet at the restaurant.”
“No,” he vetoed, taking her hand between both of his. Her pulse accelerated as his fingers stroked the top of her hand. “I'm a man that takes his dating responsibilities seriously. I asked you out. I'll pick you up.”
She scribbled her address and telephone number on the pad, ripped the page from the spine, and handed it to him. “Yes, sir.”
He pocketed the paper. Eyes sparkling, he stood, squeezed her hand, and then headed for the door. “Thank you.”
Once Keir disappeared out the door, Ryan sat for a moment, reliving his brief visit. Dinner sounded like a great way to spend an evening. Plus, she really liked Keir. On the other hand, the danger of making a major mistake loomed large. Ryan hoped that she hadn't lifted the lid on Pandora's box and allowed one thousand years of misery to escape.