But before Saturday came Friday night. Sheila wasn’t the least bit interested in going out with Todd. But she’d promised. He was picking her up at her Central Park building. They’d meet Tracy and Perry at one of the city’s newest and swankiest restaurants.
Instead of putting on airs at some too-expensive bistro, she wanted to be swaying to the music that Daryl played. Last night, he’d rocked her world in ways she hadn’t expected, couldn’t have anticipated. Like that kiss. The memory of it made her tingle all over.
They’d left each other with the agreement that Saturday night they’d take the time to really get to know each other, to take their budding relationship to the next intimate level. Assessing her feelings, Sheila had to admit that a part of her thought they were, indeed, moving too fast. Another part of her, though, begged to make love with him. She wanted to feel those fingers play her body.
In a slip, Sheila stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her dressing room. She stood in hose preparing to go out with another man while her heart wanted to be with Daryl.
“Whoa,” she said. The realization that she’d made the leap from attraction to something deeper was enough to make her pause. Going out with Todd tonight was a good thing, she decided. She’d be able to determine if it was just male attention that she’d been lacking or if something else was at play.
She stared at her hair, trying to figure out what to do about it. Tracy had not yet seen the new look. Making a note to set an appointment with her stylist, she opted to tame the “wild hair” a bit. She gathered it up and twisted the curls into an upswept hairdo that could pass for a conservative banker’s look. All along she’d planned to just keep the weave in for the duration of her vacation.
Another woman would have taken Daryl’s comment about wild hair as an insult. Sheila knew it to be a compliment. But she wondered if he was attracted to the hair instead of to the woman.
A glance at the clock in her dressing room told her it was time to get Daryl off the brain and finish getting dressed for the evening with Todd. A little while later, though, as Todd helped her into his BMW convertible and they sat in the traffic endemic to New York, Sheila’s mind was still on Daryl.
“It’s great to see you again,” Todd said. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”
She glanced at him. “Oh, yes. I remembered you.” What she recalled, though, was that he was one of those Type A, workaholic super achievers who cared more about bank balances and status than people and passion. Todd, she was sure, was hardly the type to eat barbeque chicken wings with ranch dressing on the side.
The comparison to Daryl made her smile.
“You have a lovely smile,” Todd said.
She glanced at him. “Thank you.”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, how’s the investment world doing?”
Uh-oh. Here it comes, she thought. “Just fine.”
“I’ve been thinking about diversifying my portfolio. I’ve had a terrific run of luck with emerging markets in Latin America, mostly Brazil and Argentina. What’s your take on that trend?”
Sheila smiled wanly as she slipped into her investment banker role.
“Well, it depends on where you put your investments and for how long,” she started. This she knew like the back of her hand. It was what she excelled in. That he’d ask her opinion seemed only natural. But Todd’s portfolio didn’t need diversifying, she thought as she droned on. As long as he didn’t have a drug or gambling problem, he had more money than things to do with it. Sheila had been trained to help the rich grow richer. That was how she made her own money. But what she really wanted to do was help the not-so-rich and the out-and-out poor realize that they, too, could have significant savings and diversified portfolios. People like the guys in the band at Dray’s and the stylists and shampoo assistants at Della’s. Those were the people who really needed her expertise.
By the time they got to Peignot, the new restaurant, Sheila was starting to resent Todd’s questions. And she wondered if he’d opted to drive because he knew they’d be trapped in a car for a while, long enough for him to pick her brain trying to get investment advice that would cost him thousands of dollars if he’d approached her at her firm.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested as they waited outside for Perry and Tracy to show up. “All work makes for a dull social life. What do you do in your spare time?”
He glanced at her. “Spare time?”
The evening lasted at least twenty hours. At least that was how long it seemed. The couples’ dinner conversation was the stuff of their class: summers on Martha’s Vineyard, skiing in Taos and Telluride, new artists at trendy galleries. Sheila glanced at her watch more than a dozen times, willing it all to be over soon. But after dinner, they went to a show at one of those galleries. Todd introduced her to several people he recognized. The four of them chatted with the black-clad artist who’d done the work in the show, including the painting they all respectfully stared at right now, of a man staring at a blank canvas.
Immediately recognizing the symbolism of the piece, Sheila chuckled.
“Share the humor,” Tracy’s date Perry suggested.
Sheila shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about all evening.”
Todd’s eyes widened. “Oh, really?” He stepped away and found the gallery manager.
Tracy nudged Sheila. “He’s going to buy it,” she whispered.
Leaning forward as if getting a better angle on the painting next to it, Sheila whispered back, “That’s because he recognizes his own empty life. How long are we going to be here? I’m ready to call it a night.”
“Shh,” Tracy hissed.
After the gallery, they went to a hip coffeehouse for cappuccino. As they finally departed, with hugs all around, Tracy whispered in Sheila’s ear, “He’s crazy about you.” A grin filled her friend’s face.
Tracy, Perry, and Todd all had a smashing time. Sheila found herself wondering if they realized how vacuous their lives all seemed.
She also wondered if Daryl had had a good turnout at Della’s Place.
* * *
Daryl didn’t realize how much he missed seeing Sheila in the audience until a woman sitting at the table where she normally sat sent him a drink. Daryl had the waitress discreetly replace it with his standard water, then played a song for the lady. Since it was Friday night, he took requests from his extensive collection of CDs.
Later, Della came around with paychecks.
“Good turnout tonight,” she said.
Daryl nodded as he cued up the next cut. When he finished he slipped the headphones off his ears and smiled at Della. “So, have you had a chance to listen to that CD?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.”
“And?” he prompted when she didn’t seem inclined to say anything else.
Della smiled and patted him on the arm. “And let’s talk when you finish up tonight.”
A grin split Daryl’s face. He planted a kiss on her cheek.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” she said.
“Yes, I do. It’s written all over your face.”
Chuckling, Della looked out at the lounge, waved at people she recognized, and smiled at others. “I don’t see Sheila here tonight,” she said with a glance at Daryl. “Did you two hit it off?”
“We went out last night. And we have a date for tomorrow.”
Della lifted an elegant, arched brow. “Really?”
“That’s a fact.”
“And the two of you are…” She paused, searching for a word. “Compatible?”
Catching the hesitancy in her voice, Daryl looked up. “What?”
Della just shrugged. “I wouldn’t have put the two of you together, that’s all. But then again, I’m not a matchmaker. If you don’t mind my asking, what did you two do?”
“Went to a couple of clubs.”
“Clubs? As in nightclubs? With Sheila Landon?”
Daryl paused in the process of reaching for a Nancy Wilson CD. “Landon. So that’s her last name. I realized I didn’t know it.”
Della raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you two talk about when you go out?”
Laughing, Daryl popped the CD into the player and reached for the headset to cue the music. “Now, what kind of question is that? We just talk.” Then, suddenly suspicious: “Is there something I should know about her? Don’t lie to me. I can take the truth, you know. Whatever it is.”
“It’s nothing like that. Sheila is good people. She has a good head on her shoulders. I just…” She shrugged. “Who am I to say? I’m glad you two have hooked up.”
“So, she’s not, like, a psycho or anything? That what you’re saying?”
Laughing, Della turned to leave. “Sheila? Hardly. I just didn’t think she’d be the type to go out with…”
“A bus driver?” he supplied.
Della shook her head. “No, with, to be honest, anyone. She always seems so deeply engrossed in … well, I’ve always thought she could be a little more focused on—”
“Della, there’s a call for you. It’s a Mr. Stencill. He says it’s urgent.”
“Be right there,” Della told the salon assistant. “I need to take this call,” she said to Daryl. “There’s a note in your check about a meeting that will be here next week. I want to tell the staff about a little project we’re going to be doing. Try to be here if you can.”
With that, Della headed back to the salon and her office. Daryl stood where she’d left him. He pondered her words and wondered what she’d been about to say. The only thing Sheila seemed engrossed in was her hair, her clothes, and evading any direct questions about herself. Daryl already suspected that she didn’t really have a job. And that, in his book, was a problem.
Women who depended on men and the government to pay their bills and put food on their tables always managed to find their way to him.
Maybe I’m giving out some vibes, he guessed. Gonna have to check that at the door, though. ’Cause Daryl don’t play.
But Della said Sheila was good people, a woman with a good head on her shoulders.
And a good head of hair. Daryl grinned as he thought about all that sexy hair flowing over his body.
Della’s opinion of Sheila had to count for something, though, because Della had never steered him wrong before. She knew half of the city and could get the scoop on just about anybody if it so suited her. Daryl grinned. Della Frazier was a powerful ally. He was glad he had her on his side. A few moments later, he turned his attention back to the job at hand and away, at least temporarily, from Sheila.
* * *
Tracy showed up at Sheila’s door at six-thirty the next morning. Instead of going to the gym, they’d started working out together in the exclusive and well-maintained fitness room in Sheila’s building.
“So what’s with the hair?” Tracy asked as they pedaled side by side on stationary bikes.
Sheila laughed. She had an appointment at Della’s House of Style later that afternoon, just in time for her evening date with Daryl. So for the morning workout, she didn’t bother concealing the new look from her friend.
“Just something I thought I’d try for a while.”
“It looks great,” Tracy said. “I always wanted to suggest that you try a new look, even a temporary one.”
Sheila stopped pedaling. “And why didn’t you say anything? You freely criticize my clothes.”
Tracy glanced at her. “It’s not criticism, Sheila. Just fashion advice. And I wasn’t criticizing your hair, either. The cut you keep looks great on you.”
“But?”
“There’s no but,” Tracy said. “Sometimes, test-driving a new model gives you a thrill, even if you don’t end up buying.”
Chewing on that analogy, Sheila started pedaling again. “It’s funny you say that.”
“What?” Tracy asked as she wiped sweat from her brow with the edge of a snow-white hand towel draped around her neck.
“Test driving a new model.”
“You’re going to buy a new car?”
“What do I need with another car? I don’t halfway drive the one I have.”
“Oh, you mean Todd’s Beamer. Isn’t that just the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen? I was thinking about getting one. But it just wouldn’t be practical given all the stuff I lug around with me. I need room for the laptop and the fax and the clients,” she said with a laugh. “Can’t have them riding shotgun on the hood.”
Sheila smiled at the image. “No, I wasn’t talking about Todd’s car, either. You know, by the way, he didn’t tip the valet.”
“So he forgot. Honestly, Sheila. You make too much out of that sort of thing. He was probably so infatuated with you that it slipped his mind. Perry said Todd said one thing about you.”
Interested in that opinion despite her lack of interest in the man, Sheila looked at Tracy. “And it was?”
“‘Wow.’ That’s Wow with a capital W, too, Missy Miss.” Tracy grinned. “Todd’s family has been after him to settle down. He’ll probably make partner in a year or two. They want him to have a trophy wife by then.”
“Do I look like a trophy to you?”
Tracy gave Sheila the once-over. “Let’s see. Undergrad degree from City College. They won’t hold that against you because the finance degree is from Harvard. You live in an exclusive Central Park apartment, you’re about to become a vice president at the investment firm. You speak fluid French and Portuguese. You’re slim, trim, pretty, and you know which fork to use at a dinner function. I think that about covers it. You’re in.”
Sheila rolled her eyes. “I’ll pass, thank you very much. The guy I finally marry or get serious about will see me for me, not for degrees on the wall or the diversification of the portfolio.”
“Umm-hmm,” Tracy said knowingly. “And that’s why you went out with that janitor in your building who was hitting on you. His assets just made you swoon.”
“I did not go out with that man.”
Tracy cocked her head at Sheila. “My point exactly.”
“Well, I wasn’t talking about buying a car or riding a car or going out with a janitor. I was referring to a man I’ve been seeing.”
Tracy glanced at her. “You mean a guy as in other than last night with Todd?”
“It is possible for me to get a date on my own, you know.” She smiled as she said “you know”—the catch-phrase seemed standard in Daryl’s vocabulary.
“What’s he do?”
Sheila thought about it a minute, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know. He’s never really said.”
“Oh, Lord. You could be seeing a crazy person.”
Then an idea hit Sheila. She’d been just as evasive when it came to talking about her own career. A smile split her face.
“What?” Tracy said.
“I think he’s doing the same thing I’m doing.”
“An investment banker? You go, girl.”
But Sheila didn’t really think he was in banking. He wanted a woman who didn’t have dollar signs in her eyes or maybe one who was outside his work circle. He’d admitted working for the city. Maybe he was in the mayor’s office and was keeping a low profile. Whatever the case, Sheila could respect him for keeping things on the down-low. She knew exactly where he was coming from on that particular front.
She also knew that if she didn’t have a high-powered job making, as the shampoo assistants at Della’s said, “serious bank,” Todd wouldn’t give her the time of day. And that, Sheila realized, was just fine with her.