Another evening in Solstice. Daniel went there straight after work. When he arrived, he sat at the bar and Maia brought him his usual shot of vodka before he'd even ordered. She leaned down toward him as she set it in front of him and whispered, "Sorry about Mike yesterday."
Daniel shrugged. "Nothing to apologize for."
"Watch out for him," she said, voice still very low. "He doesn't like you. He was not too thrilled that Karen invited you home."
Daniel looked at Maia, puzzled. "Why?"
Maia stifled a laugh, though she didn't look happy or amused. "Karen didn't tell you he was her husband?"
Daniel was silent, sitting back stunned.
"Ex-husband, I should say, but the divorce isn't final yet. They've been separated for two years, though." Maia stood up again. She whispered one last thing then went to wait on another customer down the bar. "Don't tell him -- or her -- that I said anything."
That explained why Karen had asked him over in a tone meant to carry -- didn't it? She'd wanted Michael to hear. Daniel tried not to picture Michael's face, but it kept coming back to his mind. He'd never felt such hostility from anyone before, not directed at him, at least. Maybe it was because Daniel was making friends with his ex-wife. Guys like him could be very possessive about things like that. He probably wasn't too happy that Daniel got along with Maia so well, either.
He actually saw Michael's face and startled. No, he wasn't seeing things, Michael had come into the bar and sat down in the same seat as the night before. Daniel carefully looked away. He determined not to look at Michael at all for the rest of the evening. Karen wasn't here, and wasn't going to come in tonight, unless her plans had changed.
"I do believe I'm in luck." A smoky feminine voice made Daniel spin in his seat. Though it had sounded as though the speaker were right next to him, she was just coming down the stairs. They led up to the second floor where he thought the bar management offices probably were. Long black hair, curling like the smoke he heard in her voice around a perfect heart-shaped face. Eyes glittering, liquid dark brown and deep, rich tanned skin and attractive crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Though she was probably past 40, she was the sexiest woman Daniel had ever seen in his life. He had never before felt a wave of desire that threatened to overpower his senses and made him dizzy, not on first glimpse of a woman. He felt it now.
"Manon," Michael said, standing from his bar stool and reaching both hands to this apparition of lust. "How good of you to join us plebes, we are honored." Though his voice was sarcastic, to match his words, Michael's eyes and body language were as worshipful as Daniel felt. Maia scowled, ignored, behind them.
Manon took the seat between Daniel and Michael. "I saw the two of you sitting with a seat saved for me between you, and I could not resist." Her accent was faint, yet enticingly foreign. French, Daniel thought. "Michael, introduce me to your handsome friend." Could she possibly mean him? Daniel found that hard to believe.
"I don't know him from Adam," Michael said, his tone still sarcastic.
"I had thought you did," Manon said calmly. She turned to Daniel. "Welcome to my bar, I am Manon." She held out a hand languidly to him, leaving him unsure whether she would like him to shake it or kiss it.
He shook it, the touch electrifyingly sensual. "Daniel Ashe. It is a pleasure to meet you, Manon." He had never meant that pleasantry so intensely.
"It is for everyone," she told him mischievously, turning a wicked smile on him that raised the heat another ten degrees under his collar. He was starting to sweat. "And yet, your acquaintance promises great pleasure to me as well, Daniel Ashe." Manon turned to Michael, who looked back at her, his sardonic expression back in place. "My dear Michael, allow me to introduce to you, not Adam, but Daniel. And Daniel," she continued to Daniel, "this is my old friend, Michael Dare."
Daniel felt a connection trying to make itself in his mind, but he was too distracted by Manon's aura of sensuality to think it through. As if she realized this, though he knew it was for reasons of her own, she stood and placed a hand on Michael's knee. "I will leave you two to get better acquainted, I think," she told Michael, who returned a stony gaze. Manon let her hand trail off Michael's knee and up Daniel's arm from fingertips to shoulder and then, cupping his cheek in her palm, she said softly, "Promise will ripen till another night, cheri." She left as swiftly as she had arrived, disappearing up the stairs to her office.
Maia was at the other end of the bar, fixing a complex iced drink for a customer Daniel didn't recognize. Michael looked at her, but she didn't seem to notice. Daniel thought she was being careful not to look at Michael, and he had no trouble imagining why. He wondered how Ellen would have reacted had she been present, seen how he responded to Manon. Of course, Manon wasn't Ellen's employer, that had to make a difference. He felt a surge of sympathy for Maia, it had to be hard on her, seeing her boss flirt with her boyfriend like that. Michael Dare, he thought, he hadn't known the man's surname before... it was a familiar one.
Of course, he thought, it's Karen's last name. Though he realized it must be so, he could not even imagine Karen and Michael together.
Michael's dry voice interrupted his thoughts. "I will never understand women." This sort of thing was usually said in the spirit of evoking a camaraderie between men, but Daniel could not sense any of that in Michael's tone or body language. Michael seemed to be saying it, instead, as a sort of general insult to Daniel.
The accountant was puzzled how it could be but that was what he thought Michael had intended. "Do you think I do?" he retorted.
Michael didn't answer. Instead, he looked into his drink, sighed, and drank half in a swallow, then alternated looks at Maia -- who pointedly did not look back -- and at his now almost empty glass.
Michael's looks to the bartender could have been interpreted as merely wanting a refill, but Daniel thought not. He watched Michael, feeling almost sympathetic, though he recalled Maia's warning. Michael looked sad, he thought. Not an open sort of sadness, but the kind that he was trying his hardest to hide, but couldn't. Sad beyond any feeling of the sort that Daniel could ever remember feeling. He tried to remember where he'd seen that look before, and when he remembered, his mouth twisted in a near smile. There'd been the owner of a company he'd helped audit, they'd found so much unreported loss that it was forced into bankruptcy, and the owner, who'd inherited the company from his father, had committed suicide no more than a month later.
Daniel knew any expression of sympathy would be unwelcome. The silence stretched out and became uncomfortable. "So, what do you do for a living?" he asked finally, stung into trying to get to know Michael better, by the silence and the memory of Manon's request, and the unwilling sympathy he felt. "I'm an accountant," he offered.
"Stockbroker," Michael answered, his tone cool, with undercurrents of the depression Daniel could still sense, though the sadness had receded a tiny bit. "I could really use another drink." Though he said it in the exact same tone, Maia responded, exchanging Michael's glass for a full one as she walked by them down the bar, at a pace so quick Daniel imagined he felt the breeze of her passage.
Another long silence, as Michael took small sips from his drink, and said nothing more. Before he could stop himself, Daniel blurted something he knew he should not have said. "I really can't imagine you and Karen together, even though I know --"
Looking up, Michael revealed such intense anger in his eyes that Daniel stopped speaking. He felt something inside him twist -- it was the feeling he had when he skied, standing at the top of an expert slope, wondering if he'd make it down in one piece. A feeling that always drew him back to danger, a feeling Daniel reveled in, especially when it accompanied fear. He knew it was not a good idea to pursue a person who made him feel like that -- but he also knew he'd probably do it anyway. For now, though, this was enough. He picked up his things, left the cash to cover his last drink plus a tip for Maia, and left the bar.
When he got home, it was still early. He called Ellen, got her answering machine, and left a message asking if she'd be interested in joining him for dinner. Usually they spent Wednesday evening together, but one of Ellen's friends had a women only wedding shower planned this week, so they'd made tentative plans for getting together either tonight or Thursday. He called their favorite Chinese restaurant that delivered in his area and ordered enough food for himself and Ellen -- if she didn't come over, Daniel could eat the leftovers the next night when he was on his own, he thought.
While he waited for the delivery and for her to call back, Daniel thought about Ellen. His mind lingered over her attractive qualities, the enjoyment he felt in her company, the good times they'd had together. Fantasies flitted through his mind as to what they might do if she came over for dinner, once the food was gone, or maybe even before that. She wanted to get married, and though he felt some anxiety at the thought, he also felt a sense of letting go. He loved her, she wanted to get married, why not? Daniel knew he could do a lot worse. And it would be -- protection, in some sense. Too much had happened since he'd seen her, too many temptations, too many women he knew would not be nearly as good a match for him as she was. This sense he felt now of heightened arousal was almost frightening. Manon was most definitely not for him, no matter how sexy, and Alison was even worse, he couldn't believe he had even been attracted to her -- and he was not even going to think about any other possibilities. If he asked Ellen to marry him, he could quit worrying about all that, he'd be committed to her, and that would be that.
The phone rang. He glanced at the caller's number on the telephone's readout, then answered it. "Ellen?" he asked eagerly. She would be right over, she said.