Captivated Love

There was no telling how long he might be, so Safire sat on the retaining wall that skirted the fountain and took her phone out of her purse to call one of her girlfriends and talk about her latest dish—the one she wanted to be her dish, anyway. Camilla picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, girl,” Safire said. “I might not have long, but I have a date for happy hour tonight. He’s as good-looking as all get-out and seems sweet on top of that, not full of himself like the usual hottie....You may get to meet him. I have to meet him first for myself—really meet him. I’ll let you know how it turns out and whether he tastes as good as he looks.”

Safire moved the phone from her ear as Camilla squealed. She glanced up, however, and there was Darien James getting off the elevator. She moved the phone back to her ear.

“Here he is, girl. I gotta go.”

She clicked the phone shut, put it back in her bag and got up to make her way toward Darien.

As she neared him, he slowed and blinked twice.

“I hope you’re not surprised to see me,” Safire said.

“Well, yes. I didn’t think you were serious. And your hair is different.”

“Serious as an accident on I-95. You going?”

“Uh...” He seemed to think about it a moment.

Safire watched him closely in those few seconds. She saw the shift in his face as his reluctance began to drain away, and then he turned and looked into her face, clearly intrigued by the woman standing in front of him. Finally, he gave her a little smile.

“Yes. Happy hour. Why not?”

“Good. We get to really meet. Are you open to that?”

“Sure,” he said. “I just hadn’t planned on going out tonight. But you’ve convinced me. I’d like to get to know you better, and a few hours in the company of a beautiful woman can soothe a work-worn spirit.” He held out his arm to her. “Let’s go.”

Safire took the arm Darien offered, and the two ministepped through the revolving door together. They came out on the other side laughing, and Safire directed them down the street to Jake’s.

Jake’s was a sports bar on the corner, and it was always packed with downtown types at happy hour. It had huge television screens and a large bar in the center of the room. Booths were stationed along the walls, but these were filled by now. High tables with tall stools occupied the rest of the space. Safire and Darien took seats at one of these, and Safire signaled a waiter.

“Can I get you drinks?”

“Make mine a virgin strawberry daiquiri,” Safire said, rolling her neck, “or I might end up on the floor.”

“Make mine the same,” Darien said.

His voice was smooth and resonant, and Safire loved the thrill it sent up her spine.

“You don’t have to forgo the alcohol because of me,” Safire said. “Go ahead. Unwind.”

“I don’t really drink.”

That was a little odd to Safire, but she didn’t mind. Cute as he was, he really did seem to be rather unassuming, as well. Safire liked that.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t raised around alcohol. And I have a very hectic schedule, so I don’t actually get out much.” He shrugged.

“I shouldn’t have a virgin daiquiri myself. It must be four hundred calories even without the alcohol,” Safire complained. “But in for a penny, in for a pound—in this case an American pound.” She chuckled. “What do you want to eat?” she asked, turning to the menu. “We can order real food if you’re hungry. I’m fine with wings.”

“I’m— I actually don’t eat meat.”

Aw. Worrisome as it was—she’d never gone out with a vegetarian or vegan—Safire was glad to be sitting across from someone with convictions. This one wasn’t all play. That could be a good thing.

“Oh, they must have other stuff on the menu. If not, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’ll have some potato skins,” he said and closed the menu. “I’ll be fine.”

In the momentary silence that followed, Darien smiled at her, and his smile opened up his whole face, letting her peek at the boy she hadn’t known and the inside of the man he was now. She loved that smile.

“So how long have you worked for the Law Offices of Benson and Hines?” he asked.

“I’ve been with them almost two years now. Good pay. Interesting work.”

“Are you an attorney? You seem kind of young...”

“No, I’m a paralegal, and I’m twenty-three. I couldn’t have finished law school already unless I was a child genius.”

Safire laughed, and Darien joined her.

“What about you? Will you be joining the firm?”

Darien laughed at that. “No, no. I’m twenty-six, but I’m not a lawyer.”

Safire pursed her lips into a pout.

“What is it?” he asked. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No, I was just hoping for a brother or sister in the upper ranks. We need some color up in there, if you know what I mean.”

Darien chuckled, but then he nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry that I don’t fit the bill. I hope you don’t mind having us as a client, though.”

His apology was so sincere that it touched Safire. He was a sweetie.

“Who’s us?” she asked.

“I work at the Heritage Community Arts, Education and Resource Center of Miami. Benson and Hines has agreed to start doing some pro bono work for our needy, and I’m helping to handle some of the arrangements.”

“Why did you need Janice?”

“That was a personal aside. I needed some advice about copyrighting my art. I’m an artist—primarily wood but also metal and clay.”

Their drinks and food arrived, and the two began nibbling.

“I’m also a full-time MFA student at Florida International University,” Darien said, “but I’ve worked at the Heritage Center forever. I do some administrative work and teach art.”