THE GAME OF FATE
I don't want to be found. Nope. I should have hidden underneath the bed this morning, Kayla thought crazily as she moved swiftly down the busy city street. She had no idea why the thought suddenly attacked her, today of all days. She was running very late, and tardiness tended to make her think about the most ridiculous things. Sighing heavily, she shifted her stack of papers and files to her other arm. They absolutely weighed a ton and she was more than ready to get rid of them. But it would be a while before she saw any real relief. Today of all days. She had no true idea that her life was about to take a skid.
Kayla's eyes were focused elsewhere and she didn't see the man approaching her from the other end of the sidewalk. He wasn't exactly coming toward her, he had another destination in mind, but he was distracted today. Perhaps he should have hidden underneath his bed as well. His cell phone had been ringing almost ceaselessly since he woke up at four thirty this morning. For the moment, it was silent, but he figured it was only a brief respite. The man moving toward Kayla was Frank Donovan, head of a special task force of FBI agents, and he had his hands full. He and the team were ordered to infiltrate an elusive gang of bank robbers. How in the hell can we infiltrate anything if we don't know who we're looking for? It was the most frustrating case he had ever been a part of since he took the UC assignment. There were no true suspects, only grainy photographs extracted from a videotape of two members of the supposed gang. Hideous carnival masks covered their faces. One of them was a woman. Outside that, little else was known about them. On the tape [and Donovan had had Cody play it dozens of times], he and the team had heard the woman calling the man "Falcon." It was almost too precious to be a real name. Of course, it would also be naïve of him to believe they would use their real names anyway. Donovan brooded about these facts as he continued down the sidewalk, moving swiftly toward fate. Like Kayla, he had no idea his life was about to change abruptly.
Almost violently, Donovan collided with another pedestrian on the sidewalk. Caught completely off guard, her body went one way, and her armload of files went another. The collision barely joggled him at all, but she landed flat on her backside. Bewildered, she leaned up on her hands and glared at him with a set of the clearest blue-green eyes he had ever seen. At that moment, what he saw in them was extreme anger. She was one pissed off female. If she wasn't so enraged, he might have laughed, lightened the moment.
"You stupid jerk, what the hell do you think you're doing," came her indignant voice. She was already running late, and now she was delayed even more. What made it worse was that it appeared the guy was about to laugh. Oh. He just better not. Not if he knows what's good for him.
Sobering immediately, Donovan went to her and offered his hand. For a moment, he wasn't sure she was going to take it. The enraged look never left her eyes as she tucked a lock of honey blonde hair behind her ear and reached out to take his hand. Inside his large paw, her hand was small and fine-boned, almost delicate. But he was certain that description wouldn't fit her personality, especially considering the way she was glaring at him. He noticed that her heart-shaped face held a clear and smooth complexion, marred by a crescent shaped scar near her left eye. She wore little make-up and what she had on accentuated her natural gifts. Her lips were full and red, absolutely luscious. She was young, but had taken great pains to appear older. He had no idea why he stood assessing her like he was. Sighing inwardly, he helped her up to her feet, and didn't hesitate to retrieve her strewn files.
Kayla stood by and stewed as he picked up her things. She was still pissed as hell, but she was allowing some of it to slip away. After all, the jerk was picking up her files. As he diligently worked to help clean up the mess, Kayla caught herself eyeing the decidedly handsome jerk. He was tall and lean with dark hair that was smattered with gray at the temples. By looking at him, she sensed he was younger than he appeared. However, his demeanor put years on him. If he was thirty-five, she would eat his shorts. For no reason at all, that thought suddenly brought color to her cheeks. She fervently hoped he couldn't see it. She shook it off as she took in his other features. His eyes were chocolate brown, his nose slender, and his face adorned with almost severe cheekbones. He wore a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache that framed his face perfectly. His lips were beautiful, with the lower fuller than the upper.
He held her files stacked neatly in his large hands. What seemed like an overwhelming burden to her was nothing more than a few paltry pieces of paper to him. She hated to think how long it would take to reorganize all the paperwork in them. She could hear the bitching now. Not only was she late, but she was going to be buried up to her elbows in paperwork as well. She could forget getting home early tonight. For a brief moment, her rage kicked in again and she was tempted to start screaming at him. But it wasn't right. It wasn't his fault her life was so topsy-turvy. She wasn't truly mad at the decidedly handsome jerk. Yes, Kayla, let's practice our daily psychoanalysis. She felt very awkward, very unsure of herself, unsure as to what she wanted to say and do. As it turned out, she didn't have to worry about that.
"Please forgive my inattentiveness," he said suddenly.
His words were spoken with an accent that she couldn't quite decipher. It was obvious he wasn't a native of Chicago. She noticed that he was holding out her stack of files as if they were a gift of attrition. She stared down at them almost stupidly before taking them into her arms. "Only if you'll forgive my outburst. You're not a jerk," she said meekly.
He smiled a little, it immediately reached his eyes, lighting them up. "Just so you know, I have been called worse," he told her, not understanding why he delved into that subject at all.
Right then and there, their contact should have ended. As normal every day strangers, they should have parted ways and continued on toward their separate destinations, but neither of them moved one step. Kayla was terribly late for work and would receive a serious ass chewing once she did arrive. At the nest, there were a few federal agents awaiting their fearless leader and further instructions on their latest greatest feat. Both of them knew they were needed elsewhere, but neither of them were in a great hurry to get where they were going.
She found herself glancing shamelessly at his left hand. Oh God. Am I that desperate? Please tell me he isn't married. At least let me have that. She didn't know why she was concerned with that. He probably wasn't interested in her. His hesitation didn't have a thing to do with attraction. It was simple courteous concern. Nothing else. "Thank you for helping me with this ton of paper. By the way, I'm Kayla Armstrong." She would have presented her hand for him to shake, but she was afraid her files would go south again. They were wrecked enough at it was.
He touched her arm in greeting and she felt an amazing score of chill bumps erupting all over her. She praised the Gods for her long sleeves. If he saw her arms, he would think her a freak. "Frank Donovan."
"Thank you again, Frank," she said. She noticed that he hadn't released her arm. "I'm really running late."
He couldn't let her go. Not yet. Not until he did something to keep her around for just a bit longer. He actually couldn't believe he was about to do this. "Would you allow a jerk to make amends by taking you to dinner," he asked suddenly, unexpectedly.
Her heart was beating hard in her chest. "I would," she answered after considering it for half a second.
"Tonight," he asked hopefully. Somehow, he sensed it was too soon.
She wanted to scream out a loud and hardy YES, but she shook her head. "I can't tonight. I'm probably going to be tied up at work until late. Tomorrow might work better for me if that's okay."
He nodded. Eager. He was entirely too eager. Somehow, he felt something should be wrong with this, but he didn't feel the need to second-guess it. He found himself second-guessing almost everything in his life lately and he was sick of it. "It's more than okay." He might have waited two weeks.
"Great," she said with a smile. He watched, bemused, as she kneeled down to set aside her files. She dug out a piece of notepaper and a pen out of her handbag. She scribbled something onto the paper. After gathering her things again, she handed the slip of paper to him. "That's the address of my favorite restaurant. You can meet me there at seven sharp. Don't be late, Frank." Without another word, she turned around and walked away.
Don't be late. Cute.
--
"You're late."
Kayla sighed and dropped her handbag onto the kitchen table. She muttered 'no shit' under her breath. She was in no mood for Carson's bullshit tonight, and she felt he was ready to lay it on thick. His 'you're late' comment was just the beginning. He had no earthly idea about the kind of day she had. When she had finally made it to work, she had gotten chewed out nine ways to hell and back again. Then she had spent the better part of her time reorganizing her files. How many paper cuts did she get? Twenty? Thirty? Her freaking blood had christened nearly every sheet of paper in those damn files. They were probably biohazards by now. Maybe she should have labeled them with one of those funky shields. Oh well. Too late now. The only good thing about it was smacking into Frank. For now, she ignored Carson, and slipped into her small bedroom. If she didn't get into something more comfortable, she thought she would lose her mind.
When she emerged from her bedroom, Carson was still sitting on the couch with his laptop computer perched precariously on his knees. He was chewing on an ink pen and every now and then, ran a hand through his unruly 'rock star' shoulder length hair. When she was in a better mood, she teased him endlessly about his hair, but tonight wasn't one of those nights. She knew he was planning a job, and when he was doing that, it was best to leave him alone. He normally wanted her there for her input, but he rarely appreciated an outburst. Still, she didn't think she should have to tiptoe around in her own damn house. She ignored him and entered the kitchen. He could tap the computer keys all night if he wanted. She needed food. Food and then bed, in that order. Tomorrow was another day.
"We're meeting with the gang tomorrow night," he suddenly announced as if noticing that she was in the room for the first time.
Kayla's head was buried in the refrigerator. She rose up and gazed at him curiously. Did he say what she thought he said? "Carson, I think you should have said something earlier. Oh, like this morning? I have plans tomorrow night."
He looked away from the computer and fixed his moss green eyes on her face. "I think you have forgotten how important this is, Kayla," he said.
She slammed the refrigerator door. How could he say that to her? How dare he say that to her? She had the greatest urge to take his precious laptop and slam it up against the wall. "I can't believe you would say that shit to me, Carson. I know how important it is. Believe me, I know. I think that once in a while, I deserve a little break from reality, you know? You do, too. It doesn't stop you, does it? I met a guy today and he's taking me to dinner and I'm going. If it makes me selfish, I'm selfish. Do you want to argue about it some more?"
"Who is he?"
"I don't know anything about him yet. I just met him today."
He shook his head. "Find out, Kayla. You can't associate with just anybody. You know that."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Carson. I know. You remind me everyday."
--
Donovan checked and rechecked the address Kayla had given him. The 'restaurant' she said was her favorite was more or less a dive in a seedy neighborhood. He wasn't a snob by the furthest stretch of the imagination, and had even visited places like this when he was in college, but for some reason, he didn't think this was a place a woman like Kayla would frequent. Of course, he didn't really know her either. Then again, perhaps she really did think him a jerk and maybe she had led him here on purpose. Shaking off his paranoia, he entered the building and noticed that it didn't look as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. Inside, it reminded him of a cozy street side diner. It was clean, well lit, and crowded with patrons. There were no tables, only booths, and none of them were vacant.
His worries were for naught when he spied Kayla almost immediately. She was seated in a booth almost perfectly in the middle of the room. She was beautifully dressed in a dark blue skirt and matching blouse. Her honey blonde hair rested against her shoulders and he could almost sense that she wanted to tuck it behind her ears. Perhaps it was a nervous habit. Her hands were crossed before her, but he could see that her thumbs were twiddling ever so slightly. He wondered vaguely if she realized he was slightly nervous as well.
Kayla looked up the instant she noticed Frank entering the room. He was absolutely gorgeous in charcoal gray slacks, a black button-down shirt, and a tan sports jacket. She had been sitting here for a good half hour, hoping that he would show up. For some reason, she thought he might not come. She knew this place wasn't ritzy, perhaps it wasn't exactly the type of joint he might like, but it served the best food in town. She couldn't begin to explain the emotions boiling inside her at the sight of him. Pace yourself. For God's sake, you know nothing about this man. Nothing, Kayla. You know nothing.
"Wow. You're on time. I'm impressed," she said as he stood by the booth.
His left eyebrow shot up and he grinned. "Well, you did tell me not to be late."
He slid into the booth in front of her and she was immediately enveloped by his entire essence. It was completely overwhelming. It was something hard to define and even harder to explain. She was tempted to touch his hand, but she hesitated.
"Yes," she said. "I did say that, didn't I? Glad the place didn't scare you off."
He shook his head. "I'm hard to scare," he said nonchalantly.
"Glad to hear that." She reached over and plucked two menus out from behind a napkin holder. She handed one to him and opened another before her. "I'm not sure what you like, and you might think I'm insane, but they make a mean plate of chicken and dumplings here."
He glanced down at the menu before looking at her. "Really? I actually love that dish."
She looked at him and smiled. "Are you serious? Or are you just trying to impress me again?"
He returned her smile. "I'm serious, but it doesn't hurt if I scored a few points."
She laughed. "Oh, funny. I was wrong about you. You are a jerk."
"Back to square one, I see. I may have to ask you out again to smooth things over a second time," he said.
She shook her head and laughed again. "You're very good at digging, Mr. Donovan. What are you, some kind of cop or something?"
"Not quite. You can say I'm just a very persistent negotiator who doesn't give up so easily."
"Intriguing," she said. "Does that mean you don't take no for an answer?"
"Not very often."
"Oh wow." She closed her menu and focused her sole attention on him. "Now I'm really intrigued. What would you have done if I had said no to your dinner invitation?"
He grinned wickedly. "There are a few ways I could have handled that situation, Kayla. Maybe I would have hounded you endlessly until you finally caved in. Or I might have taunted you with one file at a time until you gave me the answer I wanted to hear. Of course, I also may have followed you to your place of employment and made a complete ass of myself until you realized that I wouldn't go away until you accepted."
His steady, lovely gaze unnerved her, but she couldn't look away. A person could drown in his eyes. "If I had known all that, I might have played hard to get. I do enjoy watching men making complete asses of themselves."
He couldn't believe the ease he felt with her. She was nervous, true, but also sweet and flirtatious. He found himself growing more and more attracted to her by the second. He was already planning many more future outings with her. "Why do you think I chose to turn on the charm instead?"
Kayla bit her lip. He was smooth, cocky, and a little arrogant. She liked that a lot and couldn't help but wonder what would happen after tonight. "So you had a game plan all mapped out. You think quite fast on your feet, don't you, Frank?" Before she gave him a chance to answer, she went back to her menu. "So how about those dumplings?"
"Sounds great. I'm famished."
They ate their dinner in relative silence. It was a span of time that should have been uncomfortable and awkward, but it wasn't. Time and time again, Kayla caught herself gazing at Frank when he wasn't looking at her. She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't keep her eyes off him. It wasn't that she was some desperate sex starved female. It hadn't been that long since she had had a relationship, but none of the men she had known were like this one. A few times, Frank met her gaze and she would quickly avert her eyes. She didn't realize he was doing the same thing.
When they finished eating, they began chatting casually, talking about almost every subject known to man. Somehow, the subjects of their personal lives and jobs didn't really come up. At the time, neither of them really thought about it. It wouldn't become a big deal until much, much later. Around eleven that night, the proprietor of the diner chased them out.
Once they were outside, Frank stood with Kayla on the darkened city street. "I'll walk you to your car."
"Actually, I walked here from my apartment. I live about two blocks west of here," she said.
There was no way he would allow her to walk that two blocks alone. No way at all. "So I'll walk you home."
For a moment, Kayla panicked. She didn't want him to come to her building. She didn't want him to know where she lived or take the risk of running into Carson. Not yet. She didn't know that much about him. However, temptation won out. "Okay."
They turned in the direction toward Kayla's apartment building and began their short journey. They continued to make small talk, and both hated to see the night end. Once they made it up to the lobby door of the small apartment building, Kayla stopped.
"This will be fine," she told him.
Damn it to hell, but he didn't want to say good night. He reached out and took her hand into his. "Thank you for not playing hard to get."
She smiled and tightened her grip on his hand. "The pleasure was all mine."
"No," he said. "I'm almost certain it was mine."
Suddenly, unexpectedly, he leaned toward her and pressed his full lips against hers. She was stunned at first and didn't quite know how to react. However, when the shock wore off, she relaxed and accepted his gentle kiss. His breath was warm and sweet, his lips incredibly soft against hers. She could have stood there all night long and kissed him. She actually never wanted to see it end, but unfortunately, after a few moments, it did. She stood back and gazed up at him as if he were a famous movie star and she a starstruck fan.
"I would like to see you again," he said after he ran his tongue thoughtfully over his lips, as if he were tasting her a final time.
She hadn't recovered from her sense of starstruck shock, but she was able to move. She dug an ink pen out of her handbag. He watched, amused, as she scribbled a phone number onto the palm of his hand. "Call me."
He gazed down at his hand with a grin. "I definitely will."
She turned to go inside, but she was still encased within her weird shock, and she ran smack into the door. Her nose collided painfully with the glass of the lobby door. Oh Lord, let me die right now. She felt Frank's hand on her forearm.
"Are you okay," he asked, concerned.
She turned toward him, her cheeks turning three shades of red. "Yes. Just unbearably clumsy."
She saw his face coming toward hers, and she thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Good night, Kayla. I'll call you tomorrow."
I so can't wait. "Good night."
This time, she managed to open the lobby door without breaking her nose. She slipped inside and floated up to her apartment.
To be continued…