Working Man by Melanie Schuster Page B

anything I haven’t earned. You don’t owe me anything, baby. Except maybe a walk to the door.”
    Dakota found herself clinging to Nick’s big comforting hand and once again they were facing each other in the foyer. He looked down at her to see what she was going to do, and was immensely pleased when she put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes for a kiss.
    â€œSee? You like this as much as I do. We have a long time to get to know each other, but there’s no reason we can’t enjoy this here while we’re doing it,” he said in a deep, teasing voice.
    Her mouth was against his and she murmured, “You talk too much,” before giving him a good-night kiss he’d remember for a long time.
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    The next day was a busy and productive one, due in no small part to Nick. Dakota was able to get all of her personal things moved to her new office thanks to his foresight in making sure that her car was being repaired and she had a rental to drive. Since she didn’t have the tedium of a regular deadline to adhere to, she was free to leave the Herald for a few hours to go with Nick to look at paint and stain samples. She insisted on meeting him at the home-improvement store but he was equally firm about insisting he pick her up.
    â€œYou’ll get lost, trust me. This place isn’t that easy to find, even for somebody who’s been around here for years. I’ll come get you and show you how to get there,” he said reasonably.
    Dakota agreed to let him chauffeur her around, and she was glad she did because the place he took her to was way off the beaten path. It was fascinating, full of unique fixtures and fittings of all types. They spent a long time looking not only at paint and stains, but at cabinetry and wallpaper. By the time they left, Nick knew exactly what Dakota wanted and he’d made some excellent suggestions that she agreed to with no hesitation. She insisted on taking him to lunch and they went to a small seafood restaurant that Nick assured her was one of the best in town. It wasn’t fancy, but the appetizing aromas that floated around in the small space made her believe him. After they were seated and the server had taken their orders, she gave him a dazzling smile, one of the first real ones he’d seen on her face.
    â€œWhat’s that smile for?” he asked, giving her one in return.
    â€œI just wish I’d met you before I got involved with that crook Bernard Jackson,” she said candidly. “If you’d been in charge of the construction it would have turned out beautifully and I’d be all moved in and happy as a skunk in a pea patch.”
    Nick burst into laughter. “So what does a big-time city girl like you know about a skunk in a pea patch? Where’d you hear that one?”
    â€œMy granny and my daddy say it all the time. For your information, my daddy is from Edgewater, Alabama. He grew up on a teeny little farm, the same farm where I spent most of my summers until we convinced his mother, my Meemaw, to move up to Pittsburgh with us. So I’m not just a big-city girl,” she told him. “You don’t know anything about me, why don’t you just admit it?”
    â€œYou’re right, Dakota. We don’t know much about each other at all. So why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Nick’s voice was warm and persuasive, and so were his eyes. Looking at her with unmistakable interest, he suddenly asked, “Did you know there was a singer named Dakota?”
    â€œI certainly do,” Dakota replied. “I was named after her. My daddy loves music, jazz and blues in particular, and he named my brother after Johnny Hartman, my sister after Billie Holiday and I was named after Dakota Staton.”
    â€œSo what did your mama have to say about that? I hope she likes music as much as your daddy does.”
    â€œShe loves it. She was a singer for a while when she