All or Nothing. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
get Kelly out of her head. This morning’s timing had been awful. Dana had dozens of questions.
“You’re quiet, darlin’.”
“What?” She looked over at him. He hadn’t shaved yet. Dark stubble covered his chin and jaw, and she thought about what Kelly and Amy had said about him not looking like a producer. Silly, of course. There was no specific look.
“Is something wrong?” With his dark eyebrows drawn together, his gaze narrowed, his eyes looked more gray than blue.
“No. Nothing.” She had to stop thinking about Kelly. It wasn’t just about how much she’d miss her, which was a whole other issue, but about how much the defeat on her face had shaken Dana. Kelly giving up was kind of like signaling the end of an era. Which was really crazy because Dana had long ago removed herself from the fray. So why should it affect her?
She noticed he was lagging a bit and slowed down. One of the problems with guiding men was that they often wouldn’t speak up if she went too fast for them. “Five miles again?”
“That works.”
“Remember, you set the pace.”
He grinned. “If I keel over you should probably stop.”
“I promise to dial 911 promptly.”
“That would be mighty kind of you.”
“It’s the least I could do. After all, I do want to get paid.”
Chase laughed. “You have lived in this city too long. Ah.” Grimacing, he put a hand to his side.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just my ribs. Old injury.”
Right. She tried not to smile. “Want to slow down?”
“Just for a while.”
She immediately brought them down to a brisk walk. “What happened to your ribs?”
“I tell you that and I’ll have to admit to my sordid past.” He gave her one of his disarming smiles. “You’re the one who seems a bit off your feed today.”
She hadn’t heard that phrase in a while. Her dad must have used it a hundred times while she was growing up. Probably still did. “I just found out that one of my friends is thinking about leaving the city and getting a job back home.”
“Home being?”
“Wisconsin.”
He let out a low whistle. “Long ways off. How did she end up here?”
“Like the rest—” She stopped herself. Did she really want to open up that discussion? Actually she’d already admitted to him that she’d come to New York in search of a singing career. Bringing it up again could be a great lead-in to finding out about his meeting yesterday. “It seems like most of the friends I’ve made here I met standing in line for auditions.”
“I see. Is she working on Broadway?”
“No. That’s part of the problem.”
“So she works at the hotel?”
“She hasn’t decided for sure about leaving and obviously hasn’t given her notice yet, so I don’t feel comfortable talking about it.” Trying to sound casual, she asked, “How did your meeting with the mysterious playwright go?”
He made a sound of disgust. “It got postponed until tomorrow.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“That means I’ll need your services for an extra day.”
“I’ll check my appointment book, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” No, the real problem was the excitement that blossomed in her chest. She didn’t understand it. Certainly hadn’t expected the reaction. She’d had plenty of good-looking clients over the past couple of years. Even made the mistake of dating one of them. Which absolutely wouldn’t happen again.
“You ever think about going home?”
“Not really.”
“What is it about New York that you love?”
Nothing readily came to mind. She had to think about it. “The energy. The cultural diversity. The food.”
“Now, what do you miss about Indiana?”
“My family,” she said automatically. “Clean air. Clear blue skies. Corny county fairs. And never having to worry about whether I locked my apartment door or not.” She sighed. “I miss having a car, too. What about you?”
He looked surprised. “Me? I kind of flit around, so the question isn’t as applicable.”
“You said you’ve been living between Los Angeles and Houston.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “Guess home was never what you’d call a Norman Rockwell painting. Mama’s a good woman. Not the cookie-baking type, but she ran a strict household. I still managed to give her a run for her money.”
She liked the fondness in his voice when he talked about her. “Your father?”
“You mean the sperm donor?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “That’s about the only thing I fault my mama for. She never should’ve stayed with the worthless son of a bitch.”
“I’m sorry,” Dana said quietly because she didn’t know what else to say. Still, she regretted saying that. It sounded too much like pity.
Chase muttered a curse, his rudeness taking her aback, but before she could say anything he sprinted ahead.
She stopped and stared, dumfounded, and then watched him scoop up a boy, both of them tumbling onto the grass. A second later, an out-of-control skateboarder plowed past the spot where the boy had been playing with a toy truck.
“Oh, my! Toby!” A woman carrying a baby ran toward them. “Toby.” She dropped to her knees, balancing the baby on one hip while checking the boy’s unnaturally bent arm. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Toby made a disgusted face at his mother’s gentle probing. Only about four, already his male ego seemed to be intact. He straightened out his arm and shook out his hand.
The young mother breathed a sigh of relief and sent Chase a grateful look. “What do you say to the nice man, Toby?”
He broke into a big grin. “That was awesome.”
Chase grunted. “Right.”
“Really, thank you.” The mother struggled to her feet, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the skateboarding teenager who’d barely managed to avoid a tree. “That kid is going to hurt somebody.”
Chase made an attempt to get up, but sat back down again. His hand went to his ribs, and the strain in his face said it all. Dana walked over and offered him her hand. He took it, and she helped pull him to his feet.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“You really are hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Thanks, mister.” Dusting the seat of his jeans, Toby tilted his head back and grinned at Chase.
“You’re welcome. I hope your truck is okay.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “My truck.” He scampered off in search of his toy, his mother close behind him.
Dana really wanted to ask more about Chase’s injury. He probably shouldn’t be running. “Wow, faster than a speeding bullet.”
His laugh was wry. “Not exactly.”
“I didn’t even see that skateboarder. He came out of