her smile was dazzling. But he saw her glance at Bagatti, saw how her jaw tightened a little under the smile. He wondered how she'd play it - kiss him openly to drive Bagatti crazy, or greet him formally like any other client because it was none of Bagatti's business. There was no need to wonder. Cindy had class, and Bagatti was a bug. She greeted Don with a cool handshake. "Sorry I'm late," she said.
"I came pretty early," said Don, "but I hoped to exploit your free telephones."
"Putting together another deal in Taiwan?" she said. She opened the file drawer in her desk and took out a folder.
"You know how it is, trying to keep all the time zones straight," said Don. "But Mr. Bagatti here said that it was OK just to dial direct, the company would do anything for a customer."
"Haha," said Bagatti. "You only dialed seven digits."
"See you later, Ryan," said Cindy. "This way, Mr. Lark."
Outside the door, Don let himself laugh. "Never thought he could count to seven."
"He's a neanderthal, but he sells houses to a certain kind of clientele."
"When I got here he was sitting at somebody else's desk, using the computer."
"He's a snoop but we all know it, so nobody leaves anything confidential lying around. He thinks he's a real up-and-comer."
They were halfway to their cars. Don slipped his arm around her waist, feeling like a teenager daring to assert a relationship. And like a teenager, he got slapped down. He felt her twist away just a little.
"Sorry," he said, taking his arm back. What was wrong? Was she regretting yesterday's kiss? Or had she already noticed the nick on her car door?
"Let's take my car," she said.
That had been Don's intention, but now he wondered. "I can follow you, and that way you won't have to bring me all the way back here after the closing."
She had walked to her car door and was unlocking it. Don walked between their cars, positioned either to get into her passenger door or into his own driver's door. "Don," she said, "are you trying to avoid me?"
So what was he supposed to read into that look? If she hadn't just rejected his arm around her waist, he'd suppose she was looking at him with hurt and longing, that sort of dreamy-eyed look that he remembered very well from high school, the look that girls eventually realized they probably shouldn't use with guys unless they really meant something by it, because it had the power to make them hover but then they were pretty hard to get rid of. Come on, Cindy which is it? But instead of having it out with her over the roof of her Sable on the way to a closing, Don decided discretion was the better part of valor and got into her car.
Once inside with the doors closed, she was full of businesslike talk about the closing, how the lawyer was so nice to fit them in before the start of his normal business hours; Don refrained from giving his opinion of lawyers and how "nice" they were, beyond saying, "No matter what time he fit you in, he's still charging you, right?"
She laughed. "I guess you've got a point."
By now the car was out on Market Street, heading downtown. It was a four-lane with no shoulder, but to his surprise she pulled the car tight against the curb and ignored the car behind them that honked and swerved around them, curses coming from the open window. She was too busy leaning over and kissing him deeply and passionately. Then, without a word, she took her foot off the brake and they pulled back into the flow of traffic.
"Nice to see you, too," said Don.
"Sorry if it seemed like I was blowing you off back in the parking lot," she said. "I just can't stand the idea of Bagatti - you know."
"I imagine he'd never let you forget it."
"So if he was watching, what he saw was a client making a pass and the ice princess blowing him off. Sorry."
"Fine."
But was it fine? She could have explained herself right then. Bagatti couldn't have heard. Instead she waited, she let him fret in silence until she decided it was time to let him off the hook. And even then, the kiss was her doing. Maybe she just wanted to be the one to decide when things happened between them.
Then again, what woman didn't want to decide that? Most of them simply