those kinds of stories about people. It gave him a handle on who they were.
“How about if I pick you up around seven?” she asked.
He thought about that and laughed. “That’s okay. I’ll drive. I’d probably need a shoehorn to get myself into your car.”
She gazed at him. “How do you know that?”
Uh-oh. Oh, well. Confession was good for the soul. “I saw you get out of your car this morning.”
“Really?” The light dawned. “Were you the person who honked?”
“I accidentally hit the horn.” Leaning forward to get a better view of your tush. “Sorry if I startled you.”
“I just thought somebody was trying to get my attention. But when no one called out my name, I figured it wasn’t for me.”
It was all for her, but he’d eat grubs before admitting that. “I didn’t know your name then.” He laughed. “I still only know half of it, Ms. Lifesaver.”
She held out her hand. “Kasey Braddock.”
He wiped his on his jeans. “Sam Ashton.” He noted that her handshake was firm and her skin felt cool and incredibly soft. She met his gaze during the brief moment of touching, and he enjoyed the warmth of their eye contact.
What a great custom, the handshake. Sam thought of it as a sample of who the person was, like a taste of an ice-cream flavor served on a tiny pink spoon. In this instance, the sample made him want to take home a gallon’s worth of Kasey Braddock.
KASEY WAS CONVINCED that Sam had no clue they’d ever met. After she gave him her full name and he didn’t react, she knew she was home free. Of course, she hadn’t expected him to react. He’d remember a buddy named Jim Winston, but the last name of Braddock shouldn’t ring any bells for him.
“So I’ll pick you up, then,” he said.
Kasey hesitated, wondering if an assertive woman would insist on doing the driving, even if her car was a tight fit for her date. No, she’d let him drive. She knew the Miata was small, and Sam wasn’t.
“Or maybe you’d rather meet at the restaurant,” he said, obviously misinterpreting her reluctance. “After all, you don’t really know me, so maybe you’d rather not give out your address to a perfect stranger.”
But she did know him. Still, she couldn’t say that. “You’re Sam Ashton, so either this is your business or you’re working for a relative.”
“It’s my business.”
She’d thought as much from the way he’d talked about his work with the tree. “Then I can’t believe you’d jeopardize your professional reputation by turning into some kind of stalker. I’d be glad to have you pick me up.”
He smiled. “I promise I won’t bring a truck.”
“I’m not a car snob. You could bring a truck.”
“Glad to hear it, but I’ll bring my car, anyway. So let’s head over to the truck and I’ll locate a pen and paper.”
“Okay.” She walked beside him to the truck and trailer parked in the street next to the building, with orange cones set around it to divert traffic. Now she could see it was the same truck that had been parked behind her this morning. She liked knowing that he’d watched her get out of her car.
He opened the passenger door, grabbed a clipboard and closed the door again, but not before she noticed a cooler on the floor of the cab.
“Um, what’s in the cooler?” she asked, thinking she already knew the answer.
He grinned sheepishly. “Bottles of water.”
“I see.”
“I couldn’t very well tell you I didn’t need that water after you’d gone to so much trouble, could I?”
“You could have.” But knowing that he’d wanted to take the excuse to talk to her did a lot to calm her nerves. Maybe she was better at snagging a guy’s attention than she’d thought. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Me, too.”
After giving him her phone number and address, she decided to get the heck out of there before she screwed something up. So far, so good, but her luck might not hold much longer. “See you at seven, then,” she said.
“Absolutely.”
She turned and walked toward the building, wondering if he was watching her. She did her damned best to walk like an experienced temptress. And she was well on her way to becoming one after successfully completing Phase One of the operation. Maybe her little red car had something to do with it, if he’d taken the time to notice her in the parking lot this morning. She thought of her license plate and wondered if he’d seen that, too.
The members of her family, especially her brother Jim, were not fans of that license plate. They’d predicted it would get her into trouble. No doubt they also wondered if that was exactly what she’d intended.
Her sexual experience so far couldn’t be classified as getting into trouble. Losing her virginity in college—to another nerd—had been more of a social experiment than a night of grand passion. About a year and a half ago, she’d decided she needed a makeover to attract sexier dates, and Alicia had been there to help.
Coincidentally, her parents had sold the house she’d grown up in and moved to a condo in Gilbert, a good hour away. That small degree of separation had given her a surprising sense of freedom and had made changing her image even easier. By the time she’d started work at Beckworth Public Relations, she’d been transformed into glam girl.
To give her confidence a boost, she’d ordered the vanity plate. She’d told herself that any day now she’d start getting into that trouble her family was so worried about. Well, apparently she was going to start with Sam.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, while dressing for her date, Kasey mulled over her game plan. After reading a ton of restaurant reviews online and interviewing her co-workers, she’d made reservations at a trendy Italian restaurant within walking distance of the Cactus Club. That way, Sam wouldn’t have to worry about finding a downtown parking place twice.
Thank God she had fake ID. She’d felt like a criminal getting one in college, but it had come in handy. It would come in handy again tonight, because she wouldn’t be allowed into the Cactus Club without it.
The trick to this evening, Kasey decided, was coaxing Sam to talk about himself. The less he knew about her, the less likely he’d figure out who she was, which could cause complications. Blowing her cover at work was only part of the problem. She didn’t relish having Sam contact her brother, who would then fill him in on what his baby sister had been up to or, rather, hadn’t been up to.
Therefore she wouldn’t take this charade too far, only far enough to convince herself that Sam wanted her. This was simply a test of her abilities, one that would erase any lingering feelings of nerdiness she carried around and establish her new babe status for good.
At that point, she’d be ready to enjoy what the world of dating had to offer, maybe even juggling more than one guy at a time. Chances were that Sam, at age thirty, had moved beyond that exploratory stage. She’d seen the change in her brother, who’d been really serious about Alicia and hadn’t dated anyone else since the breakup.
As for her, she had no illusions about holding on to Sam and zero interest in lasting relationships. She was only twenty, for crying out loud. No way would she tie herself down until she was really old, as old as her brother. As old as Sam. With tons of sexual experience.
Wiggling into the red slip dress she’d chosen for the evening, she thought about how much experience Sam must have had. A guy who looked like him must have gone horizontal with a bunch of women. She wondered what kind of lover he was.
A picture flashed through