having the random man she’d admired turn out to be
the one with whom she had this particular appointment left her speechless and
completely discombobulated.
Ander’s elegant eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ander
Lourdes. We were scheduled to meet, right?”
She had to assume the name was a professional
appellation. Surely no loving father would have saddled a little boy with a
name like that. The boy would have no choice but to go into the profession
Ander had obviously chosen.
“Yes,” she said at last, belatedly pulling herself
together. She stood up and shook his hand. His grip was warmer than she’d
expected. He looked so cool and polished that she’d thought his hand would be a
cooler temperature. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”
He nodded politely and smiled again. “Do you want to
talk here?”
Lori glanced nervously at the other seat at her table.
She definitely wanted to meet with him where there were plenty of people
around, but the kind of conversation they’d be having wasn’t one you wanted to
carry on with dozens of ears within range.
“We could walk over to the park,” he suggested with easy
courtesy. “Still a public place, but not so crowded.”
She agreed and grabbed her purse and mocha. She’d made a
point of not dressing up for this meeting, so she was wearing her favorite pair
of jeans and a dark green vintage jacket of crushed velvet that matched her
eyes. She’d pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back in a low ponytail and
wore no make-up except mascara and lip-gloss. She’d instinctively known that
dressing up would make her even more nervous.
As they crossed the street, Lori asked her companion,
“So what kind of name is Ander?” She wanted to make casual conversation and
she’d genuinely wanted to know the answer since Sabrina first put this man’s
name in front of her as a suitable candidate.
Ander’s mouth tilted up on one side. “It’s short for
Alexander.”
“So it’s your real name?” It might be too personal a
question for this context, but she’d always been overly curious.
“Ander is. My last name has been changed.” He gave a
huff of dry laughter that she found remarkably appealing. “To protect the
innocent.”
She snickered a little, instinctively drawn to wit in
any form. His answer had been particularly clever—as it remained ambiguous as
to which party in question was innocent. “So were you named for Alexander the
Great or Alexander Graham Bell?”
He gave her a curious look, as if he were mildly
startled at her nosy questions. But before she could start to feel
self-conscious about what might be inappropriate behavior on her part for
meetings such as these, he said, “The Great. My father would never have named a
child after someone as innocuous as an inventor, however brilliant the inventor
happened to be.”
“Ah,” she replied, “So your father liked the warriors.”
“Exactly.” Idly, Ander put a hand on her back to guide
her over to an empty bench in the city park.
Lori sat on the bench and looked up at him, noting that
he was ridiculously handsome in the sunlight, with a breeze blowing against his
dark clothes. “I suppose your father must be especially proud of you then,” she
said wryly.
Even she knew—as soon as she spoke the words—that the
comment was far too presumptuous for first acquaintance. She bit her lip and
felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment.
To her relief, Ander didn’t look offended. He just
looked off in the distance and murmured, “Oh, he’s proud all right.”
The note of bitterness told Lori something about this
man’s feelings for his father. There was a whole story there , a mystery to
unravel.
But it was none of Lori’s business and wasn’t at all
what she was here for. Pulling herself back to the purpose of this meeting, she
felt a new wave of self-consciousness.
What the hell was she doing here?
Ander sat down next to her on the bench and sipped his
coffee, his expression
the one with whom she had this particular appointment left her speechless and
completely discombobulated.
Ander’s elegant eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ander
Lourdes. We were scheduled to meet, right?”
She had to assume the name was a professional
appellation. Surely no loving father would have saddled a little boy with a
name like that. The boy would have no choice but to go into the profession
Ander had obviously chosen.
“Yes,” she said at last, belatedly pulling herself
together. She stood up and shook his hand. His grip was warmer than she’d
expected. He looked so cool and polished that she’d thought his hand would be a
cooler temperature. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you.”
He nodded politely and smiled again. “Do you want to
talk here?”
Lori glanced nervously at the other seat at her table.
She definitely wanted to meet with him where there were plenty of people
around, but the kind of conversation they’d be having wasn’t one you wanted to
carry on with dozens of ears within range.
“We could walk over to the park,” he suggested with easy
courtesy. “Still a public place, but not so crowded.”
She agreed and grabbed her purse and mocha. She’d made a
point of not dressing up for this meeting, so she was wearing her favorite pair
of jeans and a dark green vintage jacket of crushed velvet that matched her
eyes. She’d pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back in a low ponytail and
wore no make-up except mascara and lip-gloss. She’d instinctively known that
dressing up would make her even more nervous.
As they crossed the street, Lori asked her companion,
“So what kind of name is Ander?” She wanted to make casual conversation and
she’d genuinely wanted to know the answer since Sabrina first put this man’s
name in front of her as a suitable candidate.
Ander’s mouth tilted up on one side. “It’s short for
Alexander.”
“So it’s your real name?” It might be too personal a
question for this context, but she’d always been overly curious.
“Ander is. My last name has been changed.” He gave a
huff of dry laughter that she found remarkably appealing. “To protect the
innocent.”
She snickered a little, instinctively drawn to wit in
any form. His answer had been particularly clever—as it remained ambiguous as
to which party in question was innocent. “So were you named for Alexander the
Great or Alexander Graham Bell?”
He gave her a curious look, as if he were mildly
startled at her nosy questions. But before she could start to feel
self-conscious about what might be inappropriate behavior on her part for
meetings such as these, he said, “The Great. My father would never have named a
child after someone as innocuous as an inventor, however brilliant the inventor
happened to be.”
“Ah,” she replied, “So your father liked the warriors.”
“Exactly.” Idly, Ander put a hand on her back to guide
her over to an empty bench in the city park.
Lori sat on the bench and looked up at him, noting that
he was ridiculously handsome in the sunlight, with a breeze blowing against his
dark clothes. “I suppose your father must be especially proud of you then,” she
said wryly.
Even she knew—as soon as she spoke the words—that the
comment was far too presumptuous for first acquaintance. She bit her lip and
felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment.
To her relief, Ander didn’t look offended. He just
looked off in the distance and murmured, “Oh, he’s proud all right.”
The note of bitterness told Lori something about this
man’s feelings for his father. There was a whole story there , a mystery to
unravel.
But it was none of Lori’s business and wasn’t at all
what she was here for. Pulling herself back to the purpose of this meeting, she
felt a new wave of self-consciousness.
What the hell was she doing here?
Ander sat down next to her on the bench and sipped his
coffee, his expression
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