Romantic Interludes Part 22

Valentine's Day is like first kisses . . .

Love is eternal, no matter the age.

Remember when I used to meet you at the door, wearing nothing but an ap.r.o.n, and you'd lift me onto the kitchen counter . . .

"I'd cross out that last one," Annalise said as she peeked over my shoulder.

I wrinkled my nose. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe we should pitch an erotic e-card line. Think Mario would go for it?"

Mario was our division supervisor and always eager for fun, creative designs that customers might not find with the larger greeting card companies. He'd loved our Men in Uniform e-cards we'd developed just in time for Father's Day.

"He'd probably go for just about anything you offered him."

"I'm not dating the boss, Annalise."

Annalise wiggled her eyebrows. "Who said anything about dating?"

"I'm not doing that, either."

She giggled and returned to her desk just as Heather, one of our interns, walked into the room. She took one look at the decorations and began to clap wildly.

Kill me.

The rest of the afternoon was the same. Everyone in the office was just so festive, eagerly antic.i.p.ating February 14, and far too excited about the holiday party, where our Cupid's Arrow line of cards and gifts would be unveiled.

I felt like Scrooge, and it wasn't even December.

With a heavy sigh, I closed my laptop. "If anyone needs me, I'll be down in the dungeon."

That's what we affectionately called the bas.e.m.e.nt, home of our graphics department. Some of the more devoted artists were famous for living in the dungeon for days while working on a project. The lack of windows meant no natural light, and the place was always freezing.

"I hate going down there," Annalise mumbled.

I shrugged. "It's not so bad. I have a meeting with the new ill.u.s.trator."

"Nathan Reynolds," she said, sighing dreamily. "Tall, dark, handsome, and single. Twenty-seven years old. Originally from Oklahoma City. Lives in the West Village."

"Do you know his social security number, too?"

"No, but I could get it."

I rolled my eyes. Annalise was far too nosy for her own good.

"Wonder what would bring an Oklahoma boy to New York City?"

Maybe I'm too nosy for my own good, too.

Annalise shrugged. "No one knows. Rumor has it he's pretty private. He doesn't really socialize with anyone outside the office. They say he's wicked talented, though."

"Maybe he can take this Valentine's theme and do something creative with it. Something that'll make me a little less desperate to stab the nearest Cupid with his own pointy arrow."

"I still say you just need a Cupid of your own."

"Actually, that's the last thing I need."

My best friend grinned. "Tall, dark, and single. I'm just sayin' . . ."

Whatever.

I was always surprised at the calm atmosphere of the graphics department. Sure, the place was filled with ill.u.s.trators and designers, working tirelessly on their projects, but there was rarely idle chitchat or gossiping around the water cooler. These artists were hardcore and focused. When I was feeling particularly stressed, I'd sometimes hide down here, just to have a moment of peace.

No one noticed as I made my way into the room. Everyone was in their cubicle, heads low, totally engrossed with whatever design was on their desk. Glancing around, I looked for any unfamiliar face, a.s.suming he'd be the new guy. Finding no one, I sighed a little too loudly, and one of the nearby artists glanced up from his work.

"Hey, Jada."

"Hi, Travis. How's it going?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Deadlines are h.e.l.l, but you know how it is."

"I do, yeah," I said sympathetically. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just looking for the new guy. I'm a little early, I guess."

"Nathan? He's probably still out to lunch."

I laughed. "I didn't think you guys emerged from the darkness for something as trivial as lunch."

"Most of us don't. If it can't be delivered to us in a take-out carton, we just don't eat," Travis said, chuckling. "Nathan always goes out, though. You could wait at his desk if you'd like. He should be back soon."

Travis pointed the way, and I thanked him before walking toward Nathan's cubicle. I felt a little intrusive as I sat down at his desk, but I couldn't deny I was impressed. His works.p.a.ce was neat and orderly-a definite rarity down here in our graphics department. I didn't touch his things, but I couldn't help but notice the little personal touches he'd added to his area. An art degree from Oklahoma State was displayed on the left wall. A Garfield comic strip, autographed by Jim Davis, was in a frame on his desk. There were some pictures, too, of a beautiful little girl with bright blue eyes and long blond hair. In one picture, she was dressed in a plaid school uniform and holding a Beauty and the Beast lunch box. In another, she was at the beach, perched on the shoulders of a handsome, shirtless, and muscular man with the same striking blue eyes.

Is this Nathan? If so, then Annalise's description of the man was right on target.

Tall, dark . . .

But how could he possibly be single?

A clearing of a throat brought me back to reality, and I looked up to find myself staring into those same piercing blue eyes. He smiled down at me, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

"You must be Jada."

I gazed at the beautiful man, wondering how the sound of my name coming from his lips could make my insides melt.

"I'm Nathan. Sorry, I'm a little late."

He could have been ten years late and I wouldn't have cared.

"Jada?"

Move your mouth, girl.

Rising to my feet, I extended my hand.

"Yes, I'm Jada Morgan. It's nice to meet you."

Nathan touched my palm, and I inhaled sharply, loving the warmth of his skin against mine.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long. I always forget how long it takes to get across town. I'm still trying to get used to the city."

"It's no problem, really."

Nathan grabbed an empty chair from a nearby cubicle. "I have to admit, if I'd known such a beautiful woman was waiting at my desk, I might have tipped the cabbie to drive a little faster."

I laughed nervously. Is he flirting?

He reached for his laptop, and I watched as the screen flickered to life. On his desktop background was the same little girl from the pictures.

"She's beautiful," I said.

"Thank you. That's my daughter."

Nervously, I sneaked a glance at his left hand, smiling slightly when I noticed his finger was bare. Not even a groove where a ring once lived.

"What's her name?"

"Arwen," he said. I noted the reverent tone of his voice.

"Hmm. Somebody was a Lord of the Rings fan."

"Somebody is." Nathan laughed, embarra.s.sed, and I knew he was the lover of Tolkien. "She hates her name now that she's in school. She's rebelled hard, forcing me to decorate her bedroom with Disney princesses. This morning, she informed me she's changing her name to Belle."

"Belle is my favorite, too."

Nathan grinned at me. "You know, you kind of look like Belle, with your dark hair and big, brown eyes."

We shared a smile before he nodded toward his laptop. "So, I guess we should . . ."

"Yeah, we should probably get to work."

He showed me some of his designs, and the rumors were absolutely true about his talent. Nathan described his artistic process, along with the software he used for his designs, but it was all white noise to me.

"I don't know much about art," I admitted. "I mainly use images for inspiration. I need something visual to get the creative juices flowing."

"I understand. I do the same thing-just in reverse. I find meaningful quotes and then try to design a picture to match the emotion being conveyed."

We continued clicking through his designs, and I was thrilled to find that many of my greetings would coordinate perfectly with some of his artwork. What was supposed to be an hour-long meeting suddenly turned into three, and by the end, we'd matched twenty of my greetings to his ill.u.s.trations.

"We make a good team," Nathan said, smiling approvingly.

"I think so, too."

"I know our theme is Cupid," Nathan whispered, "but I swear, if I see another bow and arrow, I'm going to gouge my eyes with my pencil."

It was the perfect thing to say.

"Have dinner with me," I blurted, feeling instantly ridiculous.

Nathan smiled. "You stole my line."

"I did?"

"Jada, I've been trying to find the courage to ask you out since the moment I found you sitting in my chair."

I grinned, relieved. "There's this great Mexican place just up the block. It's Margarita Monday."

His face turned to stone. "I don't drink."

"Oh. Well, the food is still great. They have the best chicken tacos."

"I really wish I could, but the sitter leaves at six," Nathan explained, looking disappointed. "We could maybe grab a quick coffee or something after work, though?"

I nodded. "Coffee would be great."

We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet at five o'clock at the coffee shop across the street. When it was time for me to head back upstairs, Nathan offered to walk me out. Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about prying eyes or quizzical looks as we navigated our way through the cubicles. Not a single head turned our way.

What happens in the dungeon stays in the dungeon.

"I was this close to calling for a search party," Annalise announced as I made my way back to my desk.

"I'm glad you didn't."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You were right about Nathan."

"Tall, dark, and single, right?"

"Well, I meant that he's talented, but yes, he's definitely tall, dark, and single."

Annalise smiled brightly. "Your meetings don't usually last three hours. That must have been some creative connection."

"Very productive," I agreed.

While waiting for my laptop to boot, I nervously bit my lip, wondering how much I should share. My best friend was staring at me expectantly, just waiting for any small bit of information. Just then, my phone pinged, and I glanced at the screen, smiling as I read Nathan's message.

IS IT FIVE YET?.

"Do you want to grab a pizza after work?" Annalise asked, snapping me back to reality.

"I thought you and Dev were going to the movies?"