Diane hoped she looked pretty in the flickering candlelight. She also hoped he couldn't see that occasionally her attention wandered, pulling her eyes to somewhere over his shoulder.
She didn't know why that would be - with beautiful, glittering blue eyes like his so near to hers, she should be lost in them.
"They were definitively soul mates," Derek said. "But they also were each other's doom."
"Yes," Diane said. "Isn't that always the way?"
She laughed at her dry little joke and Derek just looked at her blankly.
Sam would have laughed.
They were on their third date. On the first, he'd flown her to Martha's Vineyard on his Lear jet - and been a perfect gentleman the entire evening. At the time, she'd been practically hypnotized by his looks, his accomplishments, his damn private plane.
She kept dismissing the voice that thrummed in the back of her brain - telling her she was being a real jerk for dating Sam's brother - the very man he had confessed to her that he felt so inferior to.
Then let Sam step up and ask me on a date! she snapped back to her inner voice.
He hadn't done that and, frankly, she was tired of his childish games.
"Cathy felt Heathcliff was not just her soul mate - but HER. That meant he had all of her more brutish qualities as well … but she accepted them as she accepted her own."
"It was a little incestuous, though, don't you think?" Diane asked. "I mean they did grow up together."
"Sometimes you can grow up with someone and not feel that kind of familial closeness," Derek said.
Diane's mind zinged to Sam. Was he talking about him? She didn't want to ask.
So far, she had miraculously refrained from probing Derek for information about his brother - despite being desperately interested to know how Sam grew up. She also thought it was odd that Derek never mentioned him - not once.
Still, she had to admit that this was the kind of conversation that Sam would have fallen asleep over. She enjoyed being able to talk to Derek about a myriad of topics - art, literature, music. Good lord, the man had gotten drunk with Anais Nin. Anais Nin!
So why did she have the nagging sensation she wanted to return to the bar and continue her months-long banter with Sam?
Derek paid the bill and they left the restaurant. It was a pleasant evening and they decided to walk to her apartment. So far, they hadn't kissed. She wondered if tonight would be the night - and she determined that if he tried it, she would let him.
She knew he was the kind of man she wanted to have - but she as yet wasn't sure if there was any sexual chemistry. Only a kiss would help determine that.
But you haven't kissed Sam - the thought raced through her mind before she could stop it - and you feel it.
Once again, she admonished herself to stop thinking of Sam. He doesn't want you!
Then why at the bar did he keep saying under his breath he wanted her to stay and not go to Martha's Vineyard? She knew damn well she'd heard him murmur, "If you go, I'll die." She didn't know if he was kidding - playing one of his brainless, asinine games. She was so tired of his games.
Why would he keep denying what he was saying? What kind of crazy person does that? Was he just trying to make HER crazy?
Derek suddenly took her hand as they walked. She hoped something would thrill through her - but it didn't. She was disappointed with herself. What was wrong with her?
Her purse fell slightly off her shoulder and she unraveled her fingers from his to adjust it. She never brought them back.
Derek went into one of his stories about living part-time in Paris - how he had a pied a terre there, and how the aroma of freshly baked baguettes wafted to his window each morning from the quaint little cafe downstairs.
Diane pictured herself living there - working on a novel. What a life that would be! The very life she'd always imagined for herself.
Only, that life strangely didn't seem to hold the charm for her that it once did. She didn't quite know why.
They got to her apartment door and she stopped and looked at Derek – into his stunning, bright blue eyes. She couldn't figure out why she wasn't enthusiastic about inviting him upstairs - why she could look at those perfectly formed lips and not be hungry to taste them.
But, oh god, she did know why. Damn, damn, damn, damn.
Derek cocked a brow at her expectantly, perhaps waiting for her to make the first move. Why couldn't he just take charge? Sam would have.
"Derek, thank you so much, this week has been so lovely."
Derek took her hand and again she felt the urge to pull away, but she didn't.
"Diane, I have enjoyed this week immensely too, but I have to tell you that I have business in Paris this weekend."
His gaze deepened and Diane suddenly realized that he was into her - truly into her. She hadn't quite known it until now.
"If you'd like to come with me, I think we'd have a lot of fun."
"With you?" she almost gasped, and this gave her an opportunity to untwist her hand from his. She placed it on her chest. "Derek, you want me to fly to Paris with you?"
"Well, yes," he grinned. "That's what I'm asking."
Flying to Paris with Derek - Sam's brother. Boy, that would show him! That would teach him a lesson for not claiming her when he had the chance!
She knew these shouldn't be her first thoughts about flying to Paris with Derek.
"When do you leave?" she asked, hoping to stall for time.
"Tomorrow night. I could come pick you up around seven."
"Well… it does sound divine. Can I think about it tonight?"
"Of course. You have my number. Just call me by tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay," she smiled. "I will."
Then he leaned in and kissed her. She closed her eyes and tried to melt into it. But she could only wonder what kissing Sam would be like - what everything with him would be like.
Instinctively, she knew the two of them would be explosive on that level. She had never been so certain of anything in her life.
Derek pulled away and seemed satisfied. Then he kissed her on the cheek and hopped down her steps.
"Talk to you tomorrow!" he said. "Goodnight, Cathy!"
"Goodnight, Heathcliff!" she responded, smiling.
She fled into her apartment, relieved that he had not tried to get upstairs.
She now knew more than ever what she had to do - she HAD to find out how Sam was feeling. Could he really just want nothing from her but some adolescent flirtation?
And even if he did want more - what then? Was she supposed to enter into something with a man she had absolutely nothing in common with - who seemed to find her musings boring and irritating?
He had slept with so many women since she'd been working the bar, she'd lost track of them. It truly revolted her sometimes. She figured he was out with one of the floozies tonight - and not even remotely thinking about her. For what was probably the first time, jealousy ate away at her gut like acid.
Why was this happening to her?
Why did she enjoy their time together equally as much as it annoyed her?
Why was she even considering giving up a brilliant, successful, incredibly handsome man who wanted to fly her to Paris for a man whose finest attempts at seduction involved trying to jump her in the pool room and who probably thought Wuthering Heights was a downtown apartment complex?
And why oh why wouldn't he just ask her out?
Maybe he had. Maybe that's what all of that sexual innuendo had been about. Maybe it was the only way he could communicate.
She thought of how he'd inadvertently set her up with a murderer - thinking the two of them would be going out on a date – and that they were actually the perfect date for each other.
She thought about how she had gotten him to admit he was carrying a torch for her - and she then denied she was carrying one for him. She figured he would understand that she was just joking around - and that maybe the feeling was mutual.
But perhaps she was asking too much of a man like Sam.
Diane entered her apartment, took off her coat, and flung her purse to the couch.
She'd have to make a decision by tomorrow - only she already knew exactly what she had to do. It would be up to her - the entire thing.
Her heart pounded in her chest - she and Sam had already set up a dynamic of teasing and trying to outmaneuver one another. If she was finally vulnerable with him, there was every chance he could laugh at her - and gloat over the risk she took. She imagined him saying something like, "Ha, I knew you carried a torch, Diane, you little liar. Anyway, I have a date tonight. Have fun with Derek."
She knew he was capable of saying something like that even if he DID want to be with her - because his ego would demand it.
She flopped on the couch and exhaled heavily.
The rational part of her brain told her to forget this whole thing - she had an unwavering sixth sense that it would only lead to heartbreak.
But deep down she already knew she had no choice in the matter - something beyond her rational mind was in charge now.
She went into her room and picked up Mr. Jammers, cuddling him.
One way or another, her entire life was going to change tomorrow.
She wasn't sure if she was ready for it.