“Yes, my dear. Really.” The woman gave Anya more of a smirk than a smile. “You do nothing but spend all your free time with senior citizens. Go out with someone your own age for a change.” Then she moved closer and whispered, “You never know, he may be the one.”
“Oh, please,” Anya said with a laugh. “I don’t think so. I hardly even know the man.”
“And that’s why you should go out with him,” Mrs. Schuler insisted. “Get to know him. I can see the two of you ending up together. He’s American, you’re American. See? You already have one thing in common.”
“I’m half German,” Anya reminded her but Mrs. Rosner was shaking her head as if that didn’t matter at all. “I’ll probably have nothing in common with the man. I won’t know what to say.” Anya was airing all the doubts tumbling around in her head. She was thinking of the fact that she’d never been great at conversation. Too reserved, she’d been told. What if today was more of the same? What if she came off as too quiet or too stilted? And what was she going to talk about, anyway? The more she thought about it, the more nervous she got.
“Want me to come with you?”
Startled, Anya looked up to see her co-worker standing beside her, a teasing grin on her lips.
"I can come along to give you moral support,” Karen said. “Hey, if you don’t want him I’ll take him.”
“No,” Anya said quickly. “That’s quite okay.” She knew Karen hadn’t been joking when she said that last part. She had a reputation for going for what she wanted and when it came to men Karen did not play around. “I’m going,” Anya said, and before Karen could invite herself along, and before any further doubts could creep into her mind, she went straight to her desk, grabbed her handbag and headed for her Opel Astra.
Although Anya drove straight to the restaurant, not making any stops along the way, Rafe was already there. He’d ditched his tie and with his shirt open at the collar he was looking very relaxed. If only she could say the same for herself.
As soon as he saw her he came forward, smiling. “Thank you for coming,” he said and there was a hint of relief in his voice that made her laugh.
“Did you think I wouldn’t show up?” she asked, and her light attempt at teasing him was actually doing her some good. The tight coil inside her was beginning to unwind.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, there was always that possibility.”
She only shook her head and smiled. When it came to men, especially those she didn’t know well, she’d always been hesitant. But she’d never stood one up and she wasn’t about to start now. Definitely not with a man as charming and intriguing as Rafe Kent.
That afternoon, out there on the terrace of the restaurant, Anya shared a meal with a handsome gentleman and she enjoyed every minute of it. Rafe was one of the most entertaining men she’d ever met, cracking her up with stories of his adventurous hikes in the Grand Canyon, his job working on an Alaskan oil rig and his gig breaking in horses in a Texas rodeo. He’d even spent months in the forest of Central Africa, working as an assistant to a team of zoologists.
“You are one adventurous man,” Anya told him. “When do you ever sit still?” And then a thought came to her. “I thought you said you were an entrepreneur. With all these exploits, when do you ever find the time to do that?”
“That, my dear, is where technology comes in. There are so many things you can do remotely these days, who needs to be in an office?”
She shook her head at that one. “Not with my job, though. Looking after my little ones is a hands-on job.”
“A job that you’re very good at,” Rafe said, “one that you absolutely love. I can see it in the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about your work.”
Surprised by his comment Anya dropped her gaze, hoping he didn’t notice her blush. She wasn’t used to this attention and it was making her just a little bit uncomfortable. She preferred things a whole lot more when he was telling her about his many unusual ventures.
“Hey, no need to be shy,” he said and then out of the blue he reached out to capture the fingers she’d been tapping against her glass. “I meant what I said, Anya. You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out. I could see that from the first day we met.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “And that’s why I’d like to get to know you better…if you’ll let me.”
And Anya didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him, too, but was she being stupid to even think that? Even after having lunch with him he was still a virtual stranger. But he was still holding her hand and he was gazing at her, waiting for her answer. Finally, she spoke but when she said the words they sounded hesitant and uncertain. “I’ll think about it,” she said softly as she tried to pull her hand back, wanting to break his grasp, wanting to regain some distance between them so she could think.
It was the strangest thing. On the phone she’d been so sure of herself, putting him in his place without so much as a stumble. But now? Now that she was within touching distance of him, now that he was holding her hand, the firm and resolute Anya Petersen had fled and in her place was a woman whose heart was pumping at the feel of his fingers on hers, whose mouth had gone dry at the glimpse of the dark hairs on his chest. Now she was a woman who was totally aware, physically and otherwise, of the gorgeous man gazing at her with amber eyes.
Never breaking his gaze, Rafe nodded. “That’s all I ask,” he said, his voice silky and seductive. “Just think about it. But don’t take too long.” Only then did he release her fingers and sit back in his chair, giving her that distance she needed to regain control.
By the time Rafe called for the check Anya was breathing easier and when he walked her to her car she was almost back to normal. When they parted, it was with her promise to call him next day.
That evening when Anya got to the seniors’ center to teach her class she was still distracted. It wasn’t easy to forget a man like Rafe. As much as she tried to push him to the back of her mind she couldn’t.
“So who is he?” a strident voice asked, pulling her out of her reverie. “Who’s this man you’ve been thinking about all evening?”
As Anya turned to face the elderly woman who stood there, hands on her hips, she raised her eyebrows. Was she that obvious? “What do you mean, Edith?” she asked with a shake of her head. “Does a girl have to have a man on her mind all the time?”