Welling inside her were the tears she had craftfully learned to control over the last few years, but here they were again.
Take control, Deandra! she commanded herself.
"Associates? Although impressed, I am not really surprised. I figured you'd return to law eventually." She smiled her slow southern charm into each word, casting her eyes downward to the hem of her skirt and back at him. Her hand trailed up her leg and she stretched her manicured and blood red nails outward before resting her hand on her lap.
She knew he saw every movement. His perceptions had always been keen.
Her flirtations are as intoxicating as ever, he mused, completely aware of her avoidance of his questions and the way she lightly skimmed her leg. His own memories of their time in Austin flashed into his mind. A rush of heat overtook him, and in agitation, he pressed his hand to the cool glass as he glanced at the passing buildings. Too quickly, he remembered Deandra's innocent laughter as they walked this very street years earlier........a time when she was still playful, before he broke her heart.
"Museum expansion?"
Straightening her skirt hem slowly, she uttered "uh um" from deep inside her throat, a slow almost catlike sound meant to entice and allude. Deandra reached into her bag and was fumbling for a brochure about the expansion when she felt his hand on hers.
"I don't need a presentation, Deandra. Talk to me!" His dark brown eyes demanded, holding her gaze too long for her comfort. She pulled her hand free from his again and pretended look at the time on her watch. She didn't like the sweat in her hands nor the way her heart pounded so violently.
Breathe, damnit! she willed herself to remain calm. Why hadn't I refused to share this cab?
"Oh, Jay," she drawled, summoning her best West Texas honey drip voice. "It's not a presentation, just a way to show you what I've been adoing."
Reaching out to slide her finger up his arm, she smiled.
"The expansion and classification as historic property of some of the surrounding infrastructure of the neighborhood has been quite an undertaking."
Deandra loved the confused look in his face. She loved even more that by avoiding his direct questioning she removed all control from him and placed it with her. If only I had learned this a long time ago, she thought.
Not amused, Jay stiffened in the back seat and fought the urge to scream at her. Why her, why now? he raged. His thoughts often drifted to her, and even more so lately as he contemplated proposing to his current girlfriend. He knew no one before or since Deandra ignited the emotions inside him that he struggled always to contain.
As the taxi turned South onto Sixth Street, Deandra glanced at Independence Hall and laughed.
"Last year, I made a presentation to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania about preservation of cobblestones."
"What?" Jay's anger began to build. Still waiting for an answer to his question, now Deandra was talking about cobblestones.
"Yea, last year, I attended a conference on preservation of historic sights and gave a presentation about the need to preserve cobblestones. Many people don't understand that the use of cobblestones and the evolution of paving materials document the progression of an urban environment. The use of cobblestones alone can date a structure or remains found at a dig."
"Deandra Shelby! What do cobblestones have to do with anything?"
Throwing her head back and tossing her blonde hair away from her face, she laughed a deep and almost sinister laugh.
"Now you want to hear about cobblestones," she laughed.
He remembered. Her first trip to Philadelphia when she fumbled along in complete wonder of the historical district. He couldn't help it; he began to laugh, too. For a few brief rain soaked blocks, the two old friends eased into a peace and shared a rare moment.
"Almost there, folks. I'll pull to the side to let you out under the covering," announced the driver.
Deandra reached for her bag, but Jarvis stopped her.
"I got it, De," he said softly and her heart collapsed. Here was the man she longed for, cried for, begged for every night.
As the taxi pulled into a line of vehicles waiting to drop of lunch guests, Deandra gathered her bags and fumbled with her hair. She wanted to say so many things; she felt the need to clarify for him why she avoided the question still lingering between them, but she remained silent.
Quickly, she pulled her things close to her and exited the vehile while Jarvis paid the driver. Deandra ducked into the crowd, disappearing down the hallway quickly to end the torture of sitting so close to this man whom her heart still loved passionately.
Jarvis watched helplessly as she disappeared. He wanted to run after her, to soak up her precense and smell her perfume longer, but when he finally stepped foot into the church, Deandra was no where to be found. A young receptionist ushered him down the hall toward the luncheon area. He knew he would have to wait to continue the hypnotic conversation with Deandra.
Take control, Deandra! she commanded herself.
"Associates? Although impressed, I am not really surprised. I figured you'd return to law eventually." She smiled her slow southern charm into each word, casting her eyes downward to the hem of her skirt and back at him. Her hand trailed up her leg and she stretched her manicured and blood red nails outward before resting her hand on her lap.
She knew he saw every movement. His perceptions had always been keen.
Her flirtations are as intoxicating as ever, he mused, completely aware of her avoidance of his questions and the way she lightly skimmed her leg. His own memories of their time in Austin flashed into his mind. A rush of heat overtook him, and in agitation, he pressed his hand to the cool glass as he glanced at the passing buildings. Too quickly, he remembered Deandra's innocent laughter as they walked this very street years earlier........a time when she was still playful, before he broke her heart.
"Museum expansion?"
Straightening her skirt hem slowly, she uttered "uh um" from deep inside her throat, a slow almost catlike sound meant to entice and allude. Deandra reached into her bag and was fumbling for a brochure about the expansion when she felt his hand on hers.
"I don't need a presentation, Deandra. Talk to me!" His dark brown eyes demanded, holding her gaze too long for her comfort. She pulled her hand free from his again and pretended look at the time on her watch. She didn't like the sweat in her hands nor the way her heart pounded so violently.
Breathe, damnit! she willed herself to remain calm. Why hadn't I refused to share this cab?
"Oh, Jay," she drawled, summoning her best West Texas honey drip voice. "It's not a presentation, just a way to show you what I've been adoing."
Reaching out to slide her finger up his arm, she smiled.
Deandra loved the confused look in his face. She loved even more that by avoiding his direct questioning she removed all control from him and placed it with her. If only I had learned this a long time ago, she thought.
Not amused, Jay stiffened in the back seat and fought the urge to scream at her. Why her, why now? he raged. His thoughts often drifted to her, and even more so lately as he contemplated proposing to his current girlfriend. He knew no one before or since Deandra ignited the emotions inside him that he struggled always to contain.
As the taxi turned South onto Sixth Street, Deandra glanced at Independence Hall and laughed.
"Last year, I made a presentation to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania about preservation of cobblestones."
"What?" Jay's anger began to build. Still waiting for an answer to his question, now Deandra was talking about cobblestones.
"Yea, last year, I attended a conference on preservation of historic sights and gave a presentation about the need to preserve cobblestones. Many people don't understand that the use of cobblestones and the evolution of paving materials document the progression of an urban environment. The use of cobblestones alone can date a structure or remains found at a dig."
"Deandra Shelby! What do cobblestones have to do with anything?"
Throwing her head back and tossing her blonde hair away from her face, she laughed a deep and almost sinister laugh.
"Now you want to hear about cobblestones," she laughed.
He remembered. Her first trip to Philadelphia when she fumbled along in complete wonder of the historical district. He couldn't help it; he began to laugh, too. For a few brief rain soaked blocks, the two old friends eased into a peace and shared a rare moment.
"Almost there, folks. I'll pull to the side to let you out under the covering," announced the driver.
Deandra reached for her bag, but Jarvis stopped her.
"I got it, De," he said softly and her heart collapsed. Here was the man she longed for, cried for, begged for every night.
As the taxi pulled into a line of vehicles waiting to drop of lunch guests, Deandra gathered her bags and fumbled with her hair. She wanted to say so many things; she felt the need to clarify for him why she avoided the question still lingering between them, but she remained silent.
Quickly, she pulled her things close to her and exited the vehile while Jarvis paid the driver. Deandra ducked into the crowd, disappearing down the hallway quickly to end the torture of sitting so close to this man whom her heart still loved passionately.
Jarvis watched helplessly as she disappeared. He wanted to run after her, to soak up her precense and smell her perfume longer, but when he finally stepped foot into the church, Deandra was no where to be found. A young receptionist ushered him down the hall toward the luncheon area. He knew he would have to wait to continue the hypnotic conversation with Deandra.
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