“Yes, and in newspapers. The position is Events Director. Totally in charge of all festivities.” Anxiety tripped down my spine. I ignored it.
“Wow, Sweets.” His brows knitted. “That’s … Uh. Wow.”
I grimaced. “Translation: ‘way the hell over my head’?”
“I didn’t say that,” he was quick to assure me. “It’s just that … I’ve heard enough about the hotel to know they’ll host events several levels above small weddings in Sedona.”
“Numerous levels,” I corrected. And the anxiety mounted. “He seems pretty convinced I can handle it.”
“He?” My dad’s voice hitched to that uh-oh octave.
I was so there with him.
“Dane Bax.” That was all I planned to say about the man I couldn’t get off my mind. The one I’d lain in bed last night obsessing over, fantasizing about. I’d never been fixated on a man’s hands, on his lips, on his entire being, so that no sensible thoughts formed in my head the way they should when I entered risky territory.
Then again … I’d never met anyone like Dane Bax.
To diffuse whatever might next come out of my father’s mouth, I added, “The grand opening is New Year’s Eve. I’d get to plan it. Since there are pre-launch events, I’ll be decking the halls with boughs of holly.”
“You’re not really the holiday type,” he reminded me. We hadn’t been particularly festive around the DeMille household when I was growing up.
“It could actually be fun. Something different. Fa la la la la, la la la la.”
“Cute,” my dad said. “The owner has already made you an offer?”
I nodded, knowing it’d be best not to mention the astounding salary that came with the outrageous yearly budget. I really didn’t want to get into a discussion over that. I was still reeling from those figures.
“Anyway, I’m seriously considering it.” How could I not? It was a castle in the sky job with the sort of office I’d longed for and knew I’d never be able to afford on my own.
Plus, there was a certain thrill that came with being a part of Dane’s world. Being a part of something that meant so much to him. My dream meshing with his dream.
The only thing keeping me from accepting was Dane himself. I was tempted, too tempted, by him. How involved would I be in something that didn’t just bump my boundaries but barreled right through them?
And then there was that not so tiny insecurity that I might fall flat on my face and ruin his launch. Lots of responsibility to shoulder there.
I went back to hitting balls and my father let me maintain the silence until our buckets were empty. No more discussion of 10,000 Lux or Dane Bax. I certainly didn’t mention my other source of consternation—my mother’s sudden communications. No need to stress my father out more, especially where she was concerned.
When we were done, we returned the drivers we’d demoed to the golf shop.
“So, let me know how this pans out,” he said as we stood in the entryway, removing our gloves. His office was upstairs and he was on duty in half an hour.
“I will. I think it’d be pretty incredible. It’s just extremely overwhelming at the moment.”
“I’d sure enjoy the links out there.” He winked.
I laughed and said, “Had a feeling that would get your attention. We’ll see.” I kissed him on the cheek and then left to run errands.
* * *
That night, I prowled my townhome, restless and torn. I knew what I wanted. It was the price to be paid that worried me. Given what was truly on the line for someone like me, it honestly did feel as though I’d be handing over my soul for a gorgeous office—and to an even more gorgeous man.
The latter was of great concern because, honestly, I couldn’t begin to fathom what Dane saw in me. Why he wanted me. My fear was that his attraction was wrapped around the challenge I presented—my obvious need for physical distance and my low tolerance for romance. Though I wasn’t even sure he wanted to romance me. Or if he’d just gotten into the thrill of the chase and was now ready for the kill.
What would happen if he broke through and I became one more notch on his bedpost?
Another huge red flag. I had no doubt sex with Dane would be like nothing I’d ever experienced, read, or fantasized about. And I wasn’t exactly worldly in the bedroom, so how fast would it be before I bored him to tears? What sort of work environment would that create?
I shook my head as I paced the living room. As long as I didn’t fall in love, I could accept when he was done with me and let it lie. Right?