The fact that he was engaged in reading gave Bailey the opportunity to analyze him without being detected. His age was difficult to judge, but she guessed him to be in his mid-thirties. Perfect! Michael was thirty-four.
The man in the pin-striped suit was handsome, too. But it wasn’t his classic features—the sculpted cheekbones, straight nose or high forehead—that seized her attention.
It was his jaw.
Bailey had never seen a more determined jaw in her life. Exactly the type that illustrated a touch of arrogance and a hint of audacity, both attributes Jo Ann had mentioned in her critique.
His rich chestnut-colored hair was short and neatly trimmed, his skin lightly tanned. His eyes were dark. As dark as her own were blue.
His very presence seemed to fill the subway car. Bailey was convinced everyone else sensed it, too. She couldn’t understand why the other women weren’t all staring at him just as raptly. The more she studied him, the better he looked. He was, without a doubt, the most masculine male Bailey had ever seen—exactly the way she’d always pictured her hero. Unfortunately she hadn’t succeeded in transferring him from her imagination to the page.
Bailey was so excited she could barely contain herself. After months of writing and rewriting Forever Yours, shaping and reshaping the characters, she’d finally stumbled upon a real-life Michael. She could hardly believe her luck. Hadn’t Jo Ann just mentioned this great new book that suggested learning through observing?
“Do you see the man in the gray pin-striped suit?” Bailey whispered, elbowing Jo Ann. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
Jo Ann’s eyes narrowed as she identified Bailey’s hero and studied him for several seconds. She shook her head. “Isn’t he the guy who clobbered you on the head with his umbrella a few minutes ago?”
“He is?”
“Who did you think he was?”
“You mean you don’t know?” Bailey had been confident Jo Ann would recognize him as quickly as she had.
“Should I know him?”
“Of course you should.” Jo Ann had read Forever Yours. Surely she’d recognize Michael in the flesh.
“Who do you think he is?” Jo Ann asked, growing impatient.
“That’s Michael—my Michael,” she added when Jo Ann frowned.
“Michael?” Jo Ann echoed without conviction.
“The way he was meant to be. The way Janice, my heroine, and I want him to be.” Bailey had been trying to create him in her mind for weeks, and now here he was! “Can’t you feel the sexual magnetism radiating from him?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“Frankly, no.”
Bailey decided to ignore that. “He’s absolutely perfect. Can’t you sense his proud determination? That commanding presence that makes him larger than life?”
Jo Ann’s eyes narrowed again, the way they usually did when she was doing some serious contemplating.
“Do you see it now?” Bailey pressed.
Jo Ann’s shoulders lifted in a regretful shrug. “I’m honestly trying, but I just don’t. Give me a couple of minutes to work on it.”
Bailey ignored her fellow writer’s lack of insight. It didn’t matter if Jo Ann agreed with her or not. The man in the gray suit was Michael. Her Michael. Naturally she’d be willing to step aside and give him to Janice, who’d been waiting all these weeks for Michael to straighten himself out.
“It hit me all of a sudden—what you were saying about observing in order to learn. I need a model for Michael, someone who can help me gain perspective,” Bailey explained, her gaze momentarily leaving her hero.
“Ah...” Jo Ann sounded uncertain.
“If I’m ever going to sell Forever Yours I’ve got to employ those kinds of techniques.” Bailey’s eyes automatically returned to the man. Hmm, a little over six feet tall, she estimated. He really was a perfect specimen. All this time she’d been feeling melancholy, wondering how she could ever create an authentic hero, then, almost by magic, this one appeared in living color....
“Go on,” Jo Ann prodded, urging Bailey to finish her thought.
“The way I figure it, I may never get this characterization down right if I don’t have someone to pattern Michael after.”
Bailey half expected Jo Ann to argue with her. She was pleasantly surprised when her friend agreed with a quick nod. “I think you’re right. It’s an excellent idea.”
Grinning sheepishly, Bailey gave herself a mental pat on the back. “I thought so myself.”
“What are you planning to do? Study this guy—research his life history, learn what you can about his family and upbringing? That sort of thing? I hope you understand that this may not be as easy as it seems.”
“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” Bailey intoned solemnly. Actually, how she was going to do any of this research was a mystery to her, as well. Eventually she’d come up with some way of learning what she needed to know without being obvious about it. The sooner the better, of course. “I should probably start by finding out his name.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Jo Ann said as though she wasn’t entirely sure this plan was such a brilliant one, after all.
The train came to a vibrating halt, and a group of people moved toward the doors. Even while they disembarked, more were crowding onto the train. Bailey kept her gaze on the man in the pin-striped suit for fear he’d step off the subway without her realizing it. When she was certain he wasn’t leaving, she relaxed.
“You know,” Jo Ann said thoughtfully once the train had started again. “My Logan’s modeled after Dan, but in this case, I’m beginning to have—”
“Did you see that?” Bailey interrupted, grabbing her friend’s arm in her enthusiasm. The longer she studied the stranger, the more impressed she became.
“What?” Jo Ann demanded, glancing around her.
“The elegant way he turned the page.” Bailey was thinking of her own miserable attempts to read while standing in a moving train. Any endeavor to turn the unwieldy newspaper page resulted in frustration to her and anyone unfortunate enough to be standing nearby. Yet he did it as gracefully and easily as if he were sitting at his own desk, in his own office.
“You’re really hung up on this guy, aren’t you?”
“You still don’t see it, do you?” Bailey couldn’t help being disappointed. She would’ve expected Jo Ann, of all her friends, to understand that this stranger was everything she’d ever wanted in Michael, from the top of his perfect hair to the tip of his (probably) size-eleven shoe.
“I’m still trying,” Jo Ann said squinting as she stared at Bailey’s hero, “but I don’t quite see it.”
“That’s what I thought.” But Bailey felt convinced she was right. This tall, handsome man was Michael, and it didn’t matter if Jo Ann saw it or not. She did, and that was all that mattered.
The subway train slowed as it neared the next stop. Once again, passengers immediately crowded the doorway. Her hero slipped the newspaper into his briefcase, removed the umbrella hooked around his forearm and stood back, politely waiting his turn.
“Oh, my,” Bailey said, panic in her voice. This could get complicated. Her heart was already thundering like a Midwest storm gone berserk. She reached for her purse and vaulted to her feet.
Jo Ann looked at her as though she suspected Bailey had lost her wits. She tugged the sleeve of Bailey’s coat. “This isn’t our stop.”
“Yes, I know,” Bailey said, pulling an unwilling Jo Ann to her feet.
“Then what are you doing getting off here?”
Bailey frowned. “We’re following him, what else?”
“We? But what about our jobs?”
“You don’t expect me to do this alone, do you?”
Two
“You don’t mean we’re actually going to follow him?”
“Of course we
are.” They couldn’t stand there arguing. “Are you coming or not?”
For the first time in recent history, Jo Ann seemed at a complete loss for words. Just when Bailey figured she’d have to do this on her own, Jo Ann nodded. The two dashed off the car just in time.
“I’ve never done anything so crazy in all my life,” Jo Ann muttered.
Bailey ignored her. “He went that way,” she said, pointing toward the escalator. Grabbing Jo Ann by the arm, she hurried after the man in the pin-striped suit, maintaining a safe distance.
“Listen, Bailey,” Jo Ann said, jogging in order to keep up, but still two steps behind her. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this.”
“Why? Not five minutes ago you agreed that modeling Michael on a real man was an excellent approach to characterization.”
“I didn’t know you planned to stalk the guy! Don’t you think we should stay back a little farther?”
“No.” Bailey was adamant. As it was, her hero’s long, powerful strides were much faster than Bailey’s normal walking pace. Jo Ann’s short-legged stride was even slower.
By the time they reached the corner, Jo Ann was panting. She leaned against the street lamp and placed her hand over her heart, inhaling deeply. “Give me a minute, would you?”
“We might lose him.” The look Jo Ann gave her suggested that might not be so bad. “Think of this as research,” Bailey added, looping her arm through Jo Ann’s again and dragging her forward.
Staying in the shadow of the buildings, the two trailed Bailey’s hero for three more blocks. Fortunately he was walking in the direction of the area where Bailey and Jo Ann both worked.
When he paused for a red light, Bailey stayed several feet behind him, wandering aimlessly toward a widow display while glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. She didn’t want to give him an opportunity to notice her.
“Do you think he’s married?” Bailey demanded of her friend.
“How would I know?” Jo Ann snapped.
“Intuition.”
The light changed and Bailey rushed forward. A reluctant Jo Ann followed on her heels. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You already said that.”
“What am I going to tell my boss when I’m late?” Jo Ann groaned.
Bailey had to wait when Jo Ann came to a sudden halt, leaned against a display window and removed her high heel. She shook it out, then hurriedly put it back on.
“Jo Ann,” Bailey said in a heated whisper, urging her friend to hurry.
“There was something in my shoe,” she said from between clenched teeth. “I can’t race down the streets of San Francisco with a stone in my shoe.”
“I don’t want to lose him,” Bailey stopped abruptly, causing Jo Ann to collide with her. “Look, he went into the Cascade Building.”
“Oh, good,” Jo Ann muttered on the tail end of a sigh that proclaimed relief. “Does that mean we can go to work now?”
“Of course not.” It was clear to Bailey that Jo Ann knew next to nothing about detective work. She probably didn’t read mysteries. “I have to find out what his name is.”
“What?” Jo Ann sounded as though Bailey had suggested they climb to the top of Coit Tower and leap off. “How do you plan to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out later.” Clutching her friend’s arm, Bailey urged her forward. “Come on, we can’t give up now.”
“Sure we can,” Jo Ann muttered as they entered the Cascade Building.
“Hurry,” Bailey whispered, releasing Jo Ann’s elbow. “He’s getting into the elevator.” Bailey slipped past several people, mumbling. “Excuse me, excuse me” as she struggled to catch the same elevator, Jo Ann stumbling behind her.
They managed to make it a split second before the doors closed. There were four or five others on board, and Jo Ann cast Bailey a frown that doubted her intelligence.
Bailey had other concerns. She tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible, not wanting to call attention to herself or Jo Ann. Her hero seemed oblivious to them, which served her purposes nicely. All she intended to do was find out his name and what he did for a living, a task that shouldn’t require the FBI.
Jo Ann jerked Bailey’s sleeve and nodded toward the stranger’s left hand. It took Bailey a moment to realize her friend was pointing out the fact that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. The realization cheered Bailey and she made a circle with thumb and finger, grinning broadly.
As the elevator sped upward, Bailey saw Jo Ann anxiously check her watch. Then the elevator came to a smooth halt. A few seconds passed before the doors slid open and two passengers stepped out.
Her hero glanced over his shoulder, then moved to one side. For half a second, his gaze rested on Bailey and Jo Ann.
Half a second! Bailey straightened, offended at the casual way in which he’d dismissed her. She didn’t want him to notice her, but at the same time, she felt cheated that he hadn’t recognized the heroine in her—the same way she’d seen the hero in him. She was, after all, heroine material. She was attractive and... Well, attractive might be too strong a word. Cute and charming had a more comfortable feel. Her best feature was her thick dark hair that fell straight as a stick across her shoulders. The ends curved under just a little, giving it shape and bounce. She was taller than average, and slender, with clear blue eyes and a turned-up nose. As for her personality, she had spunk enough not to turn away from a good argument and spirit enough to follow a stranger around San Francisco.
Bailey noted that once again his presence seemed to fill the cramped quarters. His briefcase was tucked under his arm, while his hand gripped the curved handle of his umbrella. For all the notice he gave those around him, he might have been alone.
When Bailey turned to her friend, she saw that Jo Ann’s eyes were focused straight ahead, her teeth gritted as though she couldn’t wait to tell Bailey exactly what she thought of this crazy scheme. It was crazy, Bailey would be the first to admit, but these were desperate times in the life of a budding romance writer. She would stop at nothing to achieve her goal.
Bailey grinned. She had to agree that traipsing after her hero was a bit unconventional, but he didn’t need to know about it. He didn’t need to ever know how she intended to use him.
Her gaze moved from Jo Ann, then to the man with the umbrella. The amusement drained out of her as she found herself staring into the darkest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. Bailey was the first to look away, her pulse thundering in her ears.
The elevator stopped several times until, finally, only the three of them were left. Jo Ann had squeezed into the corner. Behind the stranger’s back she mouthed several words that Bailey couldn’t hope to decipher, then tapped one finger against the face of her watch.
Bailey nodded and raised her hand, fingers spread, to plead for five more minutes.
When the elevator stopped again, her hero stepped out, and Bailey followed, with Jo Ann trailing behind her. He walked briskly down the wide hallway, then entered a set of double doors marked with the name of a well-known architectural firm.
“Are you satisfied now?” Jo Ann burst out. “Honestly, Bailey, have you gone completely nuts?”
“You told me I need a hero who’s proud and determined and I’m going to find one.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Has it occurred to you yet that you’ve gone off the deep end?”
“Because I want to find out his name?”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“I don’t know yet,” Bailey admitted. “Why don’t I just ask?” Having said that, she straightened her shoulders and walked toward the same doors through which the man had disappeared.
The pleasant-looking middle-aged woman who sat at the reception desk greeted her with a warm smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Bail
ey returned, hoping her smile was as serene and trusting as the older woman’s. “This may seem a bit unusual, but I... I was on the subway this morning and I thought I recognized an old family friend. Naturally I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in case I was wrong. He arrived in your office a few minutes ago and I was wondering... I know it’s unusual, but would you mind telling me his name?”
“That would be Mr. Davidson. He’s been taking BART the last few months because of the freeway renovation project.”
“Mr. Davidson,” Bailey repeated slowly. “His first name wouldn’t be Michael, would it?”
“No.” The receptionist frowned slightly. “It’s Parker.”
“Parker,” Bailey repeated softly. “Parker Davidson.” She liked the way it sounded, and although it wasn’t a name she would’ve chosen for a hero, she could see that it fit him perfectly.
“Is Mr. Davidson the man you thought?”
It took Bailey a second or two to realize the woman was speaking to her. “Yes,” she answered with a bright smile. “I do believe he is.”
“Why, that’s wonderful.” The woman was obviously delighted. “Would you like me to buzz him? I’m sure he’d want to talk to you himself. Mr. Davidson is such a nice man.”
“Oh, no, please don’t do that.” Bailey hoped she was able to hide the panic she felt at the woman’s suggestion. “I wouldn’t want to disturb him and I really have to be getting to work. Thank you for your trouble.”
“It was no trouble whatsoever.” The receptionist glanced down at her appointment schedule and shook her head. “I was going to suggest you stop in at noon, but unfortunately Mr. Davidson’s got a lunch engagement.”
Bailey sighed as though with regret and turned away from the desk. “I’ll guess I’ll have to talk to him another time.”
“That’s really too bad. At least give me your name.” The woman’s soft brown eyes went from warm to sympathetic.
“Janice Hampton,” Bailey said, mentioning the name of her heroine. “Thank you again for your help. You’ve been most kind.”