“Sure.”

Dan led the way into the kitchen, where he pulled the beans out of the fridge to begin the process. “So, what’s up?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Dan stopped short. “Oh?”

Glen laughed. “Not that kind of proposition. This one should be more to your liking.”

Smiling, and a touch relieved, Dan continued with the coffee making. “Intriguing. Do go on.”

Glen leaned against the kitchen door, crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “I have this friend. Her name is Jessica Howell and she’s got a problem.”

Dan worked on the coffee while Glen filled him in on the situation. His first instinct was to say no and be done with it, but the more he heard about Jessica, the more an idea began to germinate. “So she’s brilliant, huh?”

“Top two percent of her class at Harvard. She’s razor-sharp, and too damn articulate for that foolish job she’s got.”

“Workaholic?”

“Beyond belief. I don’t think she’s been on a date since she moved to New York six years ago.”

“And I’d be with her. In her room for the whole week?”

“Yeah. Well, wait. I’m not sure about the ‘in her room’ part. But you’d have to stick pretty damn close.”

“Hmm.”

“Who knows? Things could go that way, if you play your cards right.”

“And what did you say she looked like?”

Glen smiled. “I didn’t. But now that you ask, she’s a babe. A little thing, but a powerhouse, if you know what I mean. Auburn hair, blue eyes. Really striking. She could have the men lining up, but-”

Dan nodded, pleased, but not all that concerned. Her looks were incidental. Her mind was what interested him. She was willing to pay to have an escort. He didn’t need the money, but he did have something he wanted to bargain for. “Tell you what. Set up a meeting. Whenever it’s convenient for her. We’ll talk.”

“She’ll be thrilled.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Glen pushed himself off the wall. “What are you plotting?”

“Quid pro quo, Glen. With some very exciting potential.”

Women…

If you praise her, she thinks you’re lying

If you don’t, you’re good for nothing

If you talk, she wants you to listen

If you listen, she wants you to talk

If you visit her often, she thinks you’re boring

If you don’t, she thinks you’re cheating

If you’re jealous, she says it’s bad

If you’re not, she thinks you don’t love her

If you stare at other women, she accuses you of flirting

If other men stare at her, she’s flattered

If you want sex, she says you don’t respect her

If you don’t, she thinks you’re gay.

Source: Thomas, Megan “Men are Marvelous Creatures.”

http://www.cs.berkeley.edu/~mct/funny/woandmen.html

GLEN STARED AT HIM for a long moment, clearly trying to figure out whether or not he would move forward. “I’ll call her tonight,” Dan finally said with a slow grin.

“Great.”

The coffee aroma filled the kitchen, and Dan got down two mugs. “Can I ask how come you’re not the one who’s stepping up to the plate?”

“Hey, I’d do it in a minute, but I have to be in L.A. Besides, I think this will work out better.”

“Oh?” He got out the cream from the fridge, took it and the mugs to the butcher-block table. He nodded for Glen to take a seat, and made a pass at his pantry. He brought out a couple of boxes of cookies. By then the coffee was ready, so he carried the pot over and poured.

“Jessica and I go back to college, and I’d say I know her pretty well. Inside that ambition is one hell of a good woman. She just has to take off the blinders. See something of the world around her. From what I’ve heard, that seems to be your specialty.”

Dan sat down. “Curious perspective, and I suppose reasonably accurate.”

“Yeah. You two will be…interesting.”

“I wonder why she hasn’t just put the kibosh on the boss. Doesn’t he know there are laws?”

“According to Jessica, she doesn’t want the hassle. She’s planning a move upward after her campaign is a raging success.”

“Got it. Always looking at the next step, eh?”

“Never misses the details on a spreadsheet.”

“But almost gets hit by the bus?”

Glen grinned, and lifted his coffee mug. “To new adventures.”

Dan clicked his mug but, instead of taking a sip, he said, “Hey, why don’t you give Jessica a call now? See if she can meet me for a drink tonight.”

Glen pulled out his cell phone and dialed. By the time he hung up, the arrangements were made, and Dan had two hours to put together his counterproposal.

If it worked, it was going to be one hell of a lot more exciting than any race.

JESSICA CHECKED OUT her appearance in the window of the bistro. The weather had been kind to her hair, she’d reapplied lipstick in the cab, and her Donna Karan suit looked as if she’d put it on a half hour ago. Not that it mattered. She was the one doing the hiring, but still. The situation was just awkward enough to have a built-in nervousness factor of ten, minimum.

Dan Crawford. She’d done an Internet search on him, and what she’d seen had taken her utterly by surprise. The man was a very highly paid computer consultant and had worked for some of the biggest financial institutions in the world. His prices must be astronomical, causing her to call Glen back and make sure he hadn’t promised she’d pay the man her entire yearly wage. Glen had assured her that if Dan Crawford did this, it wasn’t going to be for the money. Which begged the question…

Why? Why would he give her odd little proposal a moment’s thought? What could he possibly get out of it, if not money?

She was about to find out. If she could get her legs working and walk inside. After a deep breath and a little pep talk, she yanked on the hem of her jacket, pushed her handbag strap up on her shoulder and walked inside.

Dorian’s was an upscale Wall Street bar. Martinis of all flavors dotted the tall tables in the bar, hoisted by the young and the restless go-getters in their Prada and Emporio Armani. Not much laughter, but a lot of chatter, caromed off walls decorated with three-dimensional art, mostly in shiny metals or rusted copper. It worked, especially with the oak bar and tables.

She walked a little farther, until she was midway between the door and the bar itself, then did a quick perusal. No one looked like Dan Crawford, although one young man to her right bore a marked resemblance to Colin Firth. She kept scouting.

Her reward came seconds later. At the far right edge of the bar, a man, alone, saving a seat, looked up expectantly. He was pretty damn close to Glen’s description. Around thirty-five. She couldn’t tell if he was six foot three, but he had that tall, lanky look about him. Dark hair, smooth, shiny, thick, parted on the right. Wide eyes, generous mouth, and a nose just a wee bit big for his face. Altogether a striking combination. A little too striking.

Glen hadn’t said anything about him being gorgeous. The word hadn’t come into play once. And she knew from experience that Glen knew gorgeous. So maybe it wasn’t Dan.

The man in question waved, quashing her doubts. He stood. Yep. Six-three at least. Smiling, too. A great smile. A smile that multiplied the gorgeous by a factor of six.

She pasted her own smile on her face and made her way through the crowd. He manfully held on to the two bar stools, chasing away a blonde with boobs the size of grapefruits.

“I really hope you’re Jessica Howell,” he said as soon as she was in earshot.

“I am.”

“Good because this is the only empty seat in the place. Guess I should have suggested somewhere quieter.”

“There isn’t anyplace quieter. Not around here at least.”

He held out his hand. Long, supple fingers, strong grip. Warm, but not at all damp. She felt her cheeks heat just from the touch, which wasn’t like her. Not at all.