Her conviction that Alex wouldn't change his mind about reconciling had little effect on Dana's reactions during the next week. Each time the telephone or doorbell rang, she raced to answer like a sprinter in a track meet. She watched every newscast and searched the papers daily for mention of Alex or the Backstreet Boys, but was doomed to disappointment in all cases. He seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth.

By Friday, distraught and embarrassed over her obsession, Dana knew she must get her life back on even keel. Tonight she'd go to a movie, have dinner somewhere. If Stephanie was busy, she'd find someone else to go with.

Might have known he'd pick this particular night to make his move, Dana grumbled when she arrived home from the movie to find Alex's taped message. "I've been away all week. . . spending most of that time thinking about you instead of the business at hand. Have dinner with me. . .I promise I'll be more rational." A longer pause, then he added, "If you will."

Dana didn't know what to do. She wanted to dial him back as fast as she could push the buttons. On the other hand, he'd left her in limbo for five days – five whole days. So he'd had a business trip. So what? He could have called.

With the advent of cellular phones, there was no such thing as being out of touch. If he'd travel by plane, train, ship, car or snowmobile, he could have called. If he'd walked to wherever he'd gone, he could have called. But he hadn't.

Dana fully intended to talk to Alex, but not the second he'd snapped his fingers. "Today's Friday. . ." she mentally counted ". . .next Wednesday should be about right."

"Zomba Recording Company?" Stephanie was setting up the breakfast buffet on Monday while Dana filled the electric coffee urn with water. "Never heard of them."

"Me neither. But after browsing on the web, I realized there must be hundreds of business in Houston, alone, not mention the rest of the country, we're never heard of. All of them potential clients." She plugged in the coffee maker and went to pour the orange juice.

Tables were lined up according to the specifications of the recording company, when the members of the group filtered in.

Dana was placing a freshly baked apple coffeecake on the buffet table when she felt a tap on the shoulder. She glanced up and saw the company comptroller. Removing her insulated mitts, Dana turned to greet him.

"Ms. Evans, have you met our band?"

Dana was too flabbergasted to immediately speak. She stood numbly as the comptroller introduced her to AJ McLean.

"Mr. McLean," Dana managed, keeping her acknowledgement detached, purposefully setting the tone for any subsequent encounters between them. Alex was more devious than she'd given him credit for, catching her off guard like this. "Welcome to Torrence Place. Let me know if there's anything we can do for you and please tell everyone to help themselves." She gestured toward the food, then swiftly moved from the table into the kitchen, hoping she could suppress the overwhelming urge to cry. The shock of seeing Alex again was almost too much to bear.

He followed after her. "Dana–"

"I'm sorry but I'm extremely busy right now." She took a tray from under the counter and filled it with glasses of juice.

"But you asked whether there was anything you could do for me. I could think of a number of things. . ." He ran a hand down her arm, distracting Dana further and causing her to tip a glass over.

"Look what you've made me do," she fussed, and grabbing a cloth to mop up the sticky mess.

"If you'd only listen–"

Alex was interrupted by the approach of Brian and Nick, with what sounded like playful arguing over a recent video game challenge, in the process, earning Dana's appreciation. She needed a chance to adjust to Alex's being here. Her relief was doubled when the two men wandered out of the kitchen and into the solarium where the meeting was to take place.

If she'd known of Alex's association with the company, Dana would have told them – politely, of course – what they could do with their business. She was no masochist. To knowingly put herself in Alex's presence for two days would be akin to self-flagellation. Her heart would never begin healing if he was constantly underfoot. Nevertheless, she was thrilled to see him, yet also determined that Alex would not discover just how thrilled. He wasn't going to get a scrap of her attention during their meetings.

So that's how it's going to be. Alex had attempted to speak with Dana all morning and she'd rebuffed every overture. She might try to ignore him, but Alex had no intention of allowing her snubs to continue.

"The pencils need sharpening." It was midmorning and Alex had tracked Dana to her office. He stood at her elbow, his breath warm in her ear, his hand clutching a box of new pencils.

"What?"

"A hearing disorder, Ms. Evans? I said the pencils need sharpening. It's not complicated. You find a sharpener, insert them and voila! They're much more useful with points." His eyes glinted devilishly.

"I'll get right on those pencils, Mr. McLean." Alex could tell she was speaking through clenched teeth and the rosy color of her cheeks said she wasn't as indifferent to his attentions as she'd been trying to pretend. By now, Alex knew Dana like a book – that revealing blush he was glimpsing, her quick temper when she felt wronged, the protective barriers she threw up each time he drew near. He was going to use that temper of hers to his advantage by poking and prodded until it sizzled.

He almost felt guilty over his next words. Almost, but not quite. "Before you do the pencils, would you check on the coffee? It's so weak a baby could drink it. Trying to cut corners on expenses?" That had to get to her. Dana's coffee was perfect – she probably made the best coffee in Houston.

As he'd expected, Dana snapped at the bait. "Do you enjoy pestering me?" She glared at him. "What's going to be your next complaint – that the orange juice is too pulpy?"

Alex grinned. "Nope, the orange juice is fine. The only problem is the coffee. Oh, and the pencils, of course."

"If you knew what's good for you, you'd be glad the pencils are dull. A sane man would avoid equipping me with anything sharp right now." Thankfully, there were alone and with no witnesses in hearing distance. Dana heaved a sigh. She couldn't continue to vent her frustrations like this – not in a business environment.

However, once he'd provoked that reaction, Alex let up. He'd gotten what he wanted; he didn't want Dana furious. He was just tired of being slighted. At the noon recess, he'd apologize and invited her to dinner. Then maybe they could pick up where they'd left off.

"Dinner? You have the nerve to ask me to waste another hour with you when I've spent the morning making enough trips between the kitchen and solarium to wear a path in the flooring? No way."

Okay, lady. Apparently the morning didn't do it. If you think I've been obnoxious so far, just wait and see what else I can dish out.

Alex glanced gleefully at the dining table and it sparkling crystal, china and silver, all readied for an elegant sit-down meal as Dana announced, "Please be seated and we'll serve lunch."

"Hold on, gang," Alex broke in, "we're running way behind." He turned to Dana. "Would you mind serving us while we work?"

She minded, just as Alex knew she would. The flame in those dark eyes said Dana would like to dump the meal over his head. Alex realized he wouldn't care. It might be messy, but at least it would alleviate the tension between them. Then he could kiss her silly and. . . . Better not think about kissing her anymore if you want to make it through the rest of the meeting.

Chapter 20
Chapter 18
Table of Contents
Hosted Stories