ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
.
Читать онлайн.
“Spoken like a true attorney,” she teased.
“Are you a model?”
“No, I’m an executive secretary at Pinnacle Microsystems.”
Impressed, he nodded. “Great company. I have several friends at Pinnacle. Do you know anyone in the marketing department?”
“No, it’s a huge company, and I like to keep to myself. I’m super busy with school right now, so I don’t have time to socialize with my colleagues outside of work.”
“What are you studying?”
“I’d love to work in the non-profit field as a program director or manager, so I decided to get my business degree,” she explained. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Are you traveling to Tampa for work or pleasure?”
“Hopefully, both. Are you free tonight?”
“No. We’re going to the R&B Summer Jam at Applause Nightclub, but you’re more than welcome to join us. Divas are performing, and I can’t wait to see them perform live!”
“Who?”
A puzzled expression wrinkled her features. “The female rap group?”
“Sorry. Never heard of them.”
“Are you kidding me? Were you living under a rock in the nineties?”
“No, in Italy,” he explained, warding off bitter memories. “My parents separated, and my brothers and I went to live with my grandparents until the divorce was finalized.”
“That must have been a very difficult for you. I grew up without a father, so unfortunately I know what it’s like to experience hard times. It’s tough.” Her expression was sympathetic. “But don’t worry. I’ll buy you their greatest hits album for Christmas!”
Markos laughed out loud. He liked her. What wasn’t to like? A ball of energy, she was able to capture his attention despite everything he had on his mind. As expected, Tatiyana was far more interesting than his paperwork. She regaled him with stories about her childhood, her love of pop culture and her small, close-knit family.
“Where are you staying this weekend?” he asked. “With your friend, or at a hotel?”
“Dalton lives in Orlando, so we’re staying at the Oasis Spa and Resort. It’s the Rashawn Bishop Charity Golf tournament, and I’m going to win it all. Just watch me.”
Markos admired her confidence. Tatiyana was as witty as she was beautiful, and he had to see her again. “Small world. I’m staying at the same resort, and I’m also attending the tournament.”
“Then we’ll be seeing each other a lot this weekend. Should be fun.”
“Let’s exchange numbers. Maybe we can have a drink one night.”
“I’d like that. You seem like a cool guy, and I have a feeling Dalton’s sister is going to love you. She loves Italian men, especially handsome ones.”
Markos groaned, hanging his head as if overcome with despair. And he was. Sick of people hooking him up. He wished they’d quit sending needy, marriage-crazed females his way, and leave him alone. “I have the worst luck. I can’t go anywhere without someone trying to set me up.”
“Trust me, I’m an expert at reading people, and Genevieve is exactly your type.”
Amused, a grin tugged at his lips. “What’s my type?”
“Smart, independent and successful, right?”
“You certainly fit the bill.”
“I’m looking for Mr. Right—”
“Look no further. I’m right here.”
Tatiyana scoffed, with a loud, sarcastic laugh. “That’s what they all say until someone younger and prettier with bigger boobs comes along.”
“I’m not a player. Never have been. I’m an honest, upstanding guy who enjoys long walks in the park, shopping on Rodeo Drive, dining at five-star restaurants and Jill Scott.”
“Good God,” she said, her tone filled with awe. “You are my dream guy!”
Her girly, high-pitched giggles filled the air. Markos sensed her interest in him and knew he was saying and doing all the right things to impress her. He’d score her cell phone number by the time they landed in Tampa, and a date, no doubt about it.
They talked nonstop during the in-flight movie, laughing and cracking jokes. They had a lot in common, but what shocked Markos most were her insightful comments about the business world, her knowledge of Wall Street and politics.
“To be honest, I don’t put much faith in politicians,” Tatiyana confessed. “They’ll say and do anything to get elected, but once they’re in office, they forget about the promises they made to their loyal constituents. We need leaders who’ll stand with the American people, and unite the country, not divide it.”
“That’s a tall order, don’t you think?”
“No. If the government invests in education and health care, and provides better training to police departments, I think things would drastically improve. Especially for lower-income families and impoverished communities.”
“Well said, Tatiyana. I wholeheartedly agree.” Markos raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re an executive secretary? If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a community activist.”
Tatiyana smiled, and Markos did, too.
“It’s hard to believe we just met. I feel like we’ve known each other forever. It’s so easy to talk to you.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he confessed, echoing her thoughts.
“It feels like we’re old friends catching up at our high-school reunion.”
“That’s because you’re an exceptional conversationalist. You’re articulate, well-read, and you have an opinion about everything.”
Tatiyana frowned, arching an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I talk a lot?”
“No, that’s my way of saying I’d like to see you again.”
The flight attendant appeared. “Can I interest either of you in a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”
“Absolutely.” Tatiyana helped herself to a flute from the flight attendant’s tray, two bowls of nuts and a warm hand towel. “Thanks, Miss, I’ll buzz you if I need something else.”
“And you, Mr. Morretti?”
“I shouldn’t. It’s too early in the day to be drinking.”
“Get one,” Tatiyana urged. “You only live once, right?”
“It does smell good,” he conceded, licking his lips, his mouth wet with anticipation.
“It tastes even better...”
Markos swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her, and wondered if her lips tasted as good as they looked.
“It’s not going to kill you to have one drink,” she said, popping a cashew into her mouth. “Everything in moderation. That’s my personal philosophy, and it governs everything I do.”
“Good point.” Markos grabbed a flute off the tray and raised it in the air. “To Tampa.”
They clinked wineglasses. Time stopped, and everything around them ceased to exist. They stared at each other, as if they were long-lost lovers reuniting after years apart, and instinctively Markos took her hand in his. She was a vibrant, young woman with a wicked sense of humor and a terrific pair of legs—and Markos couldn’t wait to feel them around his waist. And he would, once they arrived at the Oasis Spa and