The Man Upstairs. Pamela Bauer
stick was a very popular item.”
“I’m glad.” He watched her, trying to gauge her reaction to learning his identity. He’d been a professional hockey player long enough to know that being Quinn Sterling could bring out the phoniness in a woman. So far, this woman didn’t appear to have a fake bone in her body. “How long have you lived here?”
“Not quite a month. Why?”
“I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now.”
“I’m not here much,” she told him, then quickly added, “because of my work—I’m a graphic designer.”
Leonie may have told him that but he didn’t remember. Come to think of it, he hadn’t paid much attention when she’d talked about the new tenant and her request for an autographed hockey stick. Now he wished he had.
Dena stifled a yawn, then said, “I’m sorry. You’re really going to have to excuse me. I have to be at work at seven tomorrow and it is late.”
So much for his concern that she might be a groupie eager to get to know him. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s all right.” She dismissed his apology with a flap of her hand, then started across the hall.
“Isn’t your apartment behind you?”
She paused. “Yes, but the bathroom isn’t,” she answered. “Krystal and I share.”
Bathroom. That was it. Now he knew where he’d seen her. The night of Maddie and Dylan’s wedding, she was the woman he’d seen in the men’s room at the hotel. “Were you at Dylan’s wedding?”
Briefly her eyes widened, then she narrowed them again in a slumberous pose. “Yes, I was. Were you?”
“You don’t remember seeing me there?”
She gave him a blank look. “Do you remember seeing me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he drawled, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face. “You are not a woman a man forgets, Dena Bailey.”
He could see the compliment made her uncomfortable. She didn’t say another word but padded across the carpeted hallway into the washroom. He was tempted to wait for her, but judging by the way she’d looked at him, he didn’t think she’d appreciate finding him still there.
So instead he went downstairs, picked up the mug and headed up to his own room, knowing there would be more opportunities to talk to her. She did, after all, live right below him. It was an intriguing thought.
YOU ARE NOT a woman a man forgets. Quinn Sterling’s words echoed in Dena’s head long after she’d returned to bed. Had he spoken them because he meant he wouldn’t forget her being in the men’s room at Dylan and Maddie’s wedding? Or had he been coming on to her?
She guessed it was a little of both. That sly grin had said, “We share a secret and I wouldn’t mind making a few more discoveries about you.” Even in her half-asleep state she hadn’t missed the gleam of interest in his eyes, although she wasn’t sure why he’d be curious about her.
Not many men would find bed head and flannel pajamas a turn-on. And she certainly had sent no vibes his way. There was no reason to, especially not after watching the videotape of him in action on the ice.
Big and bad. How many times had she seen that written about him? That black eye tonight certainly made him look bad. For all she knew he could have gotten it in a bar fight. And no one could say that it was his hockey gear that made him look big. Even out of uniform he was as wide as a football player and taller than most men.
Yes, she could definitely see why some women would find him attractive. With his physical attributes he could probably make any woman a little weak-kneed—especially one who’d been awakened from a deep sleep in the middle of the night.
Not that it mattered. If she were looking for romance—and she wasn’t—it wouldn’t be with a professional athlete. She could only imagine what it would be like to date someone who was constantly in the public eye and the object of groupies.
No, someone like Quinn Sterling would be more work than the average guy. And she’d discovered a long time ago that that was what men were—work. They demanded her attention and they wanted her passion. All she wanted to be passionate about was her job. It consumed her energy, her emotions, and that’s the way she wanted it, because the payoff was an indescribable feeling of accomplishment. There was no greater satisfaction than having something she had created on display in the marketplace for the world to see. Guys would come and go in her life, but her designs had staying power.
She looked again at the clock. In less than three hours she would have to get up and go into the office. She needed to stop thinking about her encounter with Quinn Sterling and go back to sleep, even if he was one of the most attractive men who’d ever flirted with her.
The woman hasn’t been born yet who can tempt him to hang up his blades. The quote from the women’s magazine echoed in her mind. As if she’d try to get him to do anything. She bunched up her pillow and rolled over.
She closed her eyes and forced her thoughts to the advertising campaign she’d been assigned to only yesterday. If she was going to lie awake in the middle of the night, she might as well think about something that would be of use to her for her work. Quinn Sterling was not in her future. Soy nuts were. If she could think of a clever package for the honey-roasted product, she’d be one step closer to reaching her goal of making art director.
As for the man who lived upstairs…it was unlikely that she’d run into him again. She’d lived at 14 Valentine Place for close to a month and had only seen him once. He was the kind of neighbor she wanted—out of sight and out of mind.
WHEN DENA ARRIVED at work later that morning, Greg Watkins told her that Jack Kramer wanted to see her. Her heart beat faster in anticipation of the reason she’d been summoned to the creative director’s office. Always the optimist, she expected it to be good news.
“Dena, come in and sit down,” he said when he saw her, gesturing to the Scandinavian-style chair next to his desk. “I wanted to tell you how pleased I am with your work so far. You’re doing a fine job here at Delaney.”
She relaxed and smiled. “Thank you. That’s good to hear.”
“I think you’re going to be a good fit for Delaney, and what I really like is that you’re a team player. That’s exactly what we need here. It’s the reason the Aaron Jorgenson benefit was a success.”
“I’m happy I was able to do my part.”
“As were so many generous people,” he said, obviously pleased. “That’s why we’ve decided to do another fund-raiser. Has Greg told you about our next project?”
She shook her head and he continued. “We’re going to put together a calendar featuring distinguished alumni from the state’s high schools…a sort of look at the stars of Minnesota. Each month will feature a different celebrity.” He went on to name several prominent public figures who’d already agreed to be featured on the calendar. Included were a senator, a comedienne and two film stars.
“It sounds like a wonderful idea for a fund-raiser,” Dena said. “Calendars are always popular.”
He nodded in agreement. “Delaney Design will be donating the graphic designs, and we have several vendors, including a printer, who have offered to donate their services and supplies at either a reduced fee or for no charge at all. That means we should be able to put the calendar together at a very low cost.”
She nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I’d be willing to volunteer my evenings.”
He held up his hand. “No need for you to do that. I’ve already had a couple of designers offer to do the layout. But I do have another way you can help me.”
Disappointment welled in her throat. So