Joe followed close on his heels. “Bert broke it down. I don’t think it’s anything he can’t fix, but I agree we need to make sure.”
Rafi’s concentration on Bert’s analysis was shot. What in hell would he tell BD and how much?
* * *
Shari called right when BD expected Rafi to pick her up.
“I have to come to California. I’m so furious with Mother and Judd.”
“What did you find out?” BD took a last look at herself in the full-length mirror at the end of the hallway. She had been suspicious Judd and Norah had plans to torpedo their proposal, so she wasn’t surprised Shari was coming to LA to confront them.
The doorbell rang and Chase streaked past her on a dead run for the front door. He collided with the screen hard enough to leave a dimple in it and fell on his diapered bottom with a thump.
“Hey there, soldier. Do you ever slow down?” Rafi sat on his heels and grinned through the screen.
Bubbles of laughter surrounded the little boy. He grabbed the door handle and yanked. “Wafi here!” Chase pulled and tugged the handle, hopping up and down with excitement. Kelly had pushed the slide lock in the top of the screen door, where he couldn’t reach it, so short of going through the screen, he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Open!” he wailed.
BD shook her head. “Hold on, Shari.”
Kelly reached the door before BD, picked up Chase, unlocked it, and invited Rafi inside. “Sorry, Rafi. This house is like a maximum security prison. This little guy is a regular Houdini.”
Rafi acknowledged BD with a wave and grabbed the little boy from Kelly’s arms. “You want to be an airplane?” He held him overhead, made engine noises, and thrust him up and down like a swooping stunt plane. Shrieks and giggles of delight filled the narrow hallway.
BD pointed to her phone and walked back to the bedroom. “Sorry, Shari, it’s like a circus in this house. If I don’t get my own place soon I’ll go nuts.”
“You’re about to get your wish. I want you to come back here and take over for me. I’ve got a battle on my hands and I can’t win it from across the continent.”
“How long do you want me there?”
“A couple of months, I guess. I’ve called my lawyers, and I’m going to force a board meeting. Either I’ll get my way or I’m leaving the company.”
This sounded serious. “Wow. Is it really that bad?”
“Pick me up at the airport tomorrow. I’ll text my arrival information. You won’t believe what Judd and Mother have done. I barely believe it myself.”
“When do you need me back there?” Great timing, just as she was getting back with Rafi, Shari needed her to relocate to New York for an indefinite time.
“As soon as you can get here. Peggy Marotta is down with the flu. I don’t dare leave Enzo in charge for too long. It’s not fair to him. We can discuss the arrangements tomorrow.”
“OK.” BD sighed and shook her head. “Rafi got here a few minutes ago. We’re having dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“So the mystery man is back on the scene? He seems to like doing the disappearing act. So, where’s he been this time, other than the evening news?”
“I intend to find out tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Rafi turned as the screen door opened again. BD’s brother, Jack, entered carrying a briefcase, his suit jacket over his arm with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up.
Chase kicked his legs and waved his outstretched arms. “Daddy!”
Rafi held him aloft as he wiggled and giggled. He smiled at Jack over his shoulder. “This little gangster yours?”
Jack stood back, hands on hips. He tilted his head. “Must be. He called me Daddy.”
“That’s no proof. He called me Daddy a while back.” He bounced Chase up and down. “Is this your daddy, Chase?” Rafi lowered the boy so he and the child were nose to nose. “Is that your daddy?” He tucked Chase under one arm in a football carry, extended his hand to Jack, and said, “Rafael Cruz.”
“Jonathan James.”
Rafi recognized BD’s smile on her brother’s face. Jack had a strong handshake. Dressed in a business suit, his muscular forearms and broad shoulders were those of an athlete.
He handed off the lively boy, who placed his dimpled hands on his father’s cheeks and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips.
Jack turned as BD joined them. “Hi, sis. This the guy?” He placed an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her face.
BD grinned and gave Rafi a sidewise glance. “Yes, he’s the bad penny who turns up now and then. He flies airplanes and gives surfing lessons.”
Maybe he was not in as much trouble as he’d thought. He reached for her hand. “You look great, Bravo Delta. Hungry?” He winked at his double meaning. A blush bloomed on her cheeks as he gently squeezed her fingers.
Rafi saw the small smirk on Jack’s lips when he called BD Bravo Delta. One of these days he’d find out what the BD stood for. She wasn’t telling, and from Jack’s expression Rafi knew he wouldn’t be getting the story from him. He’d imagined every possible name that would explain those initials, but none of them fit the little fireball at his side.
Kelly joined them in the crowded foyer. “Where’re you going?” She took one of Jack’s arms and poked a finger in Chase’s tummy.
Rafi put his arm around BD’s shoulders. “I know a great old greasy spoon over by Santa Monica Airport. It’s pricey, but this little gal’s worth it.”
BD tilted her head up. “Such a nice compliment. Thank you so much.”
* * *
The attractive hostess greeted Rafi by name, her friendly smile familiar. She escorted them to their reserved window table facing an active runway at Santa Monica Airport. BD had heard of Typhoon Restaurant, but she’d never been there.
The curvy blonde handed menus to them, flashed another smile, touched Rafi’s shoulder, and left.
BD gave Rafi a round-eyed glance, her lips pursed with annoyance. “Friend of yours?”
“Who?” He stared at the menu.
BD reached across the table and pushed his menu down. “Who? The hostess. And you knew who I meant.”
“Oh, Jill? Yeah I know her. I’ll introduce you to her when we leave.” He winked.
“That won’t be necessary.” BD held up her own menu. “Oh, God! They have bugs on the menu. What is this place?”
“Like the menu says, sunshine, they specialize in Asian Fusion dishes. The Taiwanese sautéed crickets are very tasty. You should try them.”
She put a hand to her throat and grimaced. “I don’t think so.” She turned as a small plane taxied on the runway in front of them. “My gosh, he’s so close you could almost reach out and touch the wing.”
A warm mellowness cloaked BD as she gazed at Rafi’s profile. He’d turned to watch the runway when she gasped with delight. He formed his lips into a small smile of pleasure at her reaction.
How romantic it was with all the twinkling lights from the planes, and runways, and him, especially him.
A waiter arrived at their table and set two tall, frosty glasses before them. Raspberry-colored cocktails garnished with a chunk of pineapple on the rim. “Compliments of Jill. I’ll be back to take your dinner order.”
Rafi raised his glass and smiled across the room. He tilted his head at Jill and took a sip. “Long time since I had one of these. Try it.”
Not wanting to display the unexpected rush of jealousy roiling in her chest, BD composed her face and raised her glass to taste the cocktail. “Mmm, this
is
good. What is it?”
“Singapore Sling. This drink’s been around a lot longer than we have. Do you like it?”
She took another sip. “Yes, it’s delicious. I’ve never tasted one before.” She tilted her head, eyebrows drawn together. “Weren’t they first made at Raffles Singapore Hotel in the early nineteen-hundreds?”
Rafi raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Very good, Bravo Delta. They were. Typhoon makes them fresh, without pre-mix or canned juice. I can see why it’s been around for so long.”
BD made a determined effort to relax. Of course Rafi knew the hostess. He probably knew the hostess in every bar, in every airport, in every country in the world. The man had to be in his mid-thirties. From what she knew about him so far, he’d been everywhere, and frequently at that. How pointless it was that the hair on the back of her neck tingled with insecurity every time a woman smiled at him. What did she expect? No commitment had been made between them.
“How about letting me order dinner, sweet cheeks? I’ve got my favorites, and I think you’d like them too. I won’t order any insects.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You promise?”
He held up his hand and displayed the Boy Scout’s three-finger salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a Boy Scout?”
“Eagle rank.”
She grinned and took a sip. “I’m impressed.”
Rafi signaled the waiter. BD watched his lips as he ordered Honey Walnut Shrimp, Garlic Fried Rice, and Mongolian Lamb with Sesame Bread Pockets. Just watching his mouth form the words so easily and the tone of his voice set her toes tingling. When he glanced her way his black eyes danced. He could have been murmuring sexy bedroom phrases, instead of ordering food.
Did this man speak to her libido or what?
Why should she care where he’d been and how many women he knew? She thought of the way he made love, his entire body restrained power. The fact that he could break her in half if he had a mind to merely enhanced his allure. She had to admit it. She was mad for this guy.
Rafi reached across the table and linked his fingers with hers. The expression on his face softened. His eyes twinkled with reflected lights from the runway. “Are you my girl, Bravo Delta?”
She swallowed as a blush rose to heat her face and took a breath. She was shocked when she felt the burn of unshed tears threatening. “Yeah, Cruz, I’m your girl.”
For the moment at least, for as long as it lasted, she was Rafi’s girl.
He squeezed her fingers, brought her hand to his lips. “Good, that’s very good.”
Throughout dinner BD picked up Rafi’s sensual messages with every bite of food and every movement of his hands, mouth, and eyes. Her pulse tripped like a fawn that lost its mother.
Every now and then his knee would touch against hers or he’d caress her hand. Once he reached across the table and brushed a grain of rice from the corner of her mouth, his finger lingering on her bottom lip. She sat very still and returned his erotic gaze, breathless from the tension.
When he brushed his finger across her lip Rafi wanted to throw BD over his shoulder and carry her out of the place. He’d get her into his bed tonight one way or the other. When he answered her inevitable questions he’d tell her only the facts necessary to gain her trust. Once he was sure the depth of her feelings matched his own, he’d reveal more until she knew everything. Only then would he know if they had a future together.
Rafi put his American Express card on the table. Seeing it, the waiter returned quickly with the check. Once he’d settled the bill, Rafi rose and extended a hand to his girl. The words held magic. His girl. Only his girl. Always his girl. His girl to the end of his life. Yes, he wanted to marry BD. He surprised himself with how much he wanted that. The unanswered question—did she feel the same?
He told himself to take it easy. Don’t screw up. Take it slow. Give her time to come around to the idea on her own.
He took her arm. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Jill, my other girl.” He steered her toward the podium.
Her back stiffened under his hand, but he urged her forward. “Jill, I’d like you to meet the kissing flight attendant Joe told you about. This is BD James.”
Jill’s blue eyes sparkled. “So you’re the vamp who tried to lure my husband away? I never saw Joe so tickled. He told me all about the great in-flight service you provided on the Newark charter.”
BD’s eyebrows rose with sudden understanding. “You’re Joe Brosky’s wife?” She turned and glared at Rafi. “Why didn’t you tell me? All evening long I imagined her as one of your stable of women. Shame on you.”
Rafi shuffled his feet like a bashful boy. “Well, Jill and I were…years ago we…”
Jill smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop it. We weren’t anything.” She turned to BD. “My girlfriend, Lila, and I were vacationing in Hawaii. We got set up on a double blind date with two Marines, Rafi and Joe. I got paired with Rafi and Lila with Joe.
“For about an hour we drank beer, talked, laughed, and listened to the band. Then Joe stood and asked me to dance. That was the end of Rafi for me.” She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. “I love you, sweetie, but you never stood a chance once Joe put his arms around me. That was more than eight years ago.”
BD cocked her head in Rafi’s direction. “And Lila?”
He laughed. “I’ll never tell.” He gave Jill a kiss. “How’s Joe Junior?”
Jill placed her hand lightly on her still flat stomach. “Josephine is doing just fine, thank you.”
He laughed and took BD’s arm again. “Let’s roll, sugar.”
BD called over her shoulder as Rafi led her toward the doors. “Nice meeting you, Jill.” She turned to Rafi. “What’s your hurry?”
“What do you think? No, don’t tell me. I know what you’ve been thinking for the last hour.”
She pulled her arm from him. “You big-headed bozo. What makes you think you have a window into my mind?”
He stopped just past the doors, pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her, hot and long on passion. “Am I wrong?” He lifted her off her feet and she melted into him. His arousal struck like lightning. He pressed her firmly against his hips.
She dropped her head back and moved it slowly from side to side, her green eyes like flame throwers. “No,” she whispered and circled his ear with her fingertips. “You’re not wrong.”
Rafi drove to his apartment, his hand on the back of BD’s neck. He said little, and she was mostly silent during the half hour drive. He swore he could feel her skin vibrate like a tuning fork under his fingers. Gratified that her anticipation of the night ahead matched his own, he visualized every way he would make love to her. With her actually—she was an innovative and thoroughly willing participant. She seemed to care as much about his pleasure as her own.