Dust Motes Dancing 2 |
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He was transfixed, and didn't hear her. "What?" "Oh. No. It was -. Wine. We were going to get some wine." He was fumbling like a teenager, trying not to stare. They spent the whole night sitting on a couch, ignoring Joe and forgetting to even refill their wine glasses. When the party ended and they were forced out to the parking lot, they spent another hour talking at Suzanne's car until exhaustion drove them home. Jordan lay on his side of the bed, rigid with disbelief. How could he feel this way about her? He wasn't interested in another woman. His eyes stared into the darkness and his heart beat out a tattoo as his mind raced back and forth across the evening, from her dimpled smile to her frothy giggle. She was a designer. Suzanne. She was twenty-seven and had green eyes. From Quebec City. She rolled her r's. She hated golf. Her ex hit her once and she threw him out. Then he stalked her so she moved to Toronto. No kids. She loved tennis, but only to play, never to watch. Red wine, but no red meat. Dragon boat racing and biking country roads. No camping. He revisited every word, every nuance. It was all so new, so different. It had been so long since he'd been with anyone who excited him. Jordan was at his desk by 8:30 the next morning and he sat drumming his fingers for half an hour, worried that it was too early to call her. He opened files and flipped pages, but he didn't make sense of anything. His eyes kept flicking up to the clock, watching the sweep hand slowly make its way around. He was sweating and his hands were shaking. His mouth was dry. And he hadn't gotten like that, even when summing up a case to a jury, for
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