Page 6 of Serving the Maestro

I couldn't help but smile.

“Pardon my French,” he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You going to a play tonight or just hanging out at the Square?”

“A play.” I wasn’t always chatting with strangers, but I was nervous about the blind date, and this talkative cabbie made it a lot easier to focus on something else. Looking at my watch noticing the time, I heaved out a sigh. “Honestly, though, I’m beginning to think the whole thing is cursed. Maybe this weather is a bad omen.”

“Ahhh...you’re going on a date, aren’t ya?” He waved at the person in the Mini Cooper, letting them merge into our lane. “See, this guy has his signal on. You be nice...other drivers are nice to you. So, are you?”

Frowning, I thought back through his rambling. “Oh, a date? Yes.” With a huffy sigh, I added, “My best friend set it up. I hate blind dates.”

“Why didn’t you tell her that?”

“She knows.” The cars on either side were moving easier now. Damn it. So much for the weather holding us up. Guess there's no excuse now for canceling.

We chatted easily for another ten minutes, although the tension in my neck and shoulder muscles grew ever tighter as we got closer to Times Square and the theater district.

“Look at that,” my driver said, sounding pleased with himself as he pulled to a stop at the corner. “Practically right at the door.”

“Yes.” I swiped my card and added a tip. As I climbed out, my phone chirped with a message alert. A cold wind sliced through my coat like it was made of thin paper, and I hurried inside. The message could wait that long.

The coat check line was heinous, so I skipped it, found a quiet spot in the lobby area, and checked my phone.

We’re running behind, Jazz! This crazy weather has everybody driving like idiots. Burton’s already there. He’s in the bar. He’s good-looking, wearing a red scarf. You’ll find him. XXOO

“Well, that’s helpful,” I muttered. Good-looking and a red scarf?

Resigned, I shoved my phone into my pocket and began my search. Navigating the clusters of people, I made it to the bar, where I found even more people. Man, I hoped she meant he was sitting at the actual bar. Otherwise, I would still be walking around looking for this guy at intermission.

It was a relief when I made it to the long stretch of polished wood and saw a couple of open seats—including one that held a coat and a long, fire-engine red scarf draped over it, sitting right next to a guy with broad shoulders that nicely stretched the fit of his shirt.

I approached after a quick look to make sure there weren’t any other bearers of red scarves.

“Hi.”

He turned his head and looked at me.

I was too logical to believe in romantic ideas like love at first sight. But lust at first sight? That could totally be a thing, even if I’d never experienced it.

His pale green eyes met mine, and it was like falling into a pool of sweet, delicious sin.

He blinked, thick lashes briefly hiding those lovely eyes while a warm smile curved his lips. “Hello.”

The smile was just as beautiful as his eyes. Closing my hands over the back of the chair that held the red scarf, I decided maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Lame conversation starter, but this weather sucks, doesn’t it? Especially for April.” This was the part of dating I really hated, that “getting to know a person” part. Cam should be here, so this would be a little less awkward.

“I’m used to warmer weather.” He paused, then added, “I’m from California.” He grimaced and glanced toward the windows that marched down the front façade of the building. “I’m not much for cold weather, so yeah, I’m not loving the April snowstorm.”

He shifted on the barstool, facing me fully, and giving me a better view at him.

It was a nice view, too.

Those pale green eyes made me think of spring. His hair was a rich, warm brown that looked overdue for a cut, but it suited him anyway. The glint in his pale eyes made warmth curl in my belly, and that heat only intensified as I recognized that spark for the interest it was.

As far as my personal life went, it had been a long time since I’d felt a kind of reaction to a guy other than annoyance.

Maybe this date wouldn’t turn out to be so bad.

Too many years of horrible experiences with men kept me from settling in the seat next to him, but I did ease closer. Resting a hand on the chair holding his coat and scarf, I returned his smile. “What’s California like?”

---