Fine Print

Kara strained to hear the conversation between the two men seated at the table across the outdoor patio. The café wasn’t too busy, but she had the additional background noise of the Atlanta suburb’s pedestrians and traffic.

“I don’t know if I can. Five years down the shitter, all because of one pretty boy.” The first man’s voice broke, and Kara thought he might start crying outright.

She knew the man with his back to her as Derek Martinez, though they’d never met. She had been watching him for the past two weeks. Stalking him, her sister Krista said.

Maybe she had gone a bit overboard. Especially that morning she caught him walking out of a parking lot. She’d followed him to his office building, and onto a crowded elevator. She’d stood right behind him, and got a good look at his physique, even hidden as it was through the tailored suit. Even now she could smell the clean scent of his cologne. She remembered freezing in place when he turned and made eye contact before he disappeared into his office. A good-looking Hispanic man, eyes the perfect shade of brown. At that moment she knew he would be the one. If she could convince him, that is. She got his name from the gold lettering on his office window, and spent that night on Google.

She found out that he owned the Brilliance Advertising Agency, he lived alone, and he went to lunch every day at eleven-thirty. Often he went to elegant restaurants downtown with what Kara assumed were clients of his advertising firm. She didn’t follow him inside those places, though she desperately wanted to bump into him and introduce herself.

She didn’t realize he was gay until yesterday, when she’d followed him to a lunch meeting. That was the first time she’d been able to sit herself anywhere near Derek Martinez. Although she wasn’t able to see him from her seat on the other side of the half wall, she heard enough of the conversation to know that it couldn’t be called a meeting. His companion spent the first half of the meal openly flirting with their waiter, until Derek asked him to “tone it down”.

Now, here he was on today’s lunch date, with yet another man. It made Kara wonder how many of the lunch meetings she’d witnessed over the past two weeks were dates for this promiscuous man.

Kara shook her head to clear it. His indiscretions would only cause a problem if Derek Martinez was carrying an STD. Otherwise it didn’t matter. She put yesterday’s lunch out of her mind, and again focused on the couple today, just as Derek’s date’s voice rose above the white noise around them.

“What would you do? I mean really, Derek. Try to see it from my point of view. I just feel so ... used, and cheap. Like I’m not good enough...” Here he did start crying. Derek reached across the table and laid a comforting hand on his lover’s shoulder.

Derek’s voice was quieter, and he wasn’t facing her, so she couldn’t hear every word, but she heard “sorry”, and “chance”.

Obviously they were breaking up, and it was due to Derek’s infidelity. Kara thought back to his lunch date yesterday. Had she unwittingly witnessed his cheating in action? Don’t get too close, Kara. His personal life is none of your business.

She studied this date-du-jour, just in case Derek didn’t work out. The man with his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably now, was the right complexion, the caramel-coffee-colored skin and his slight accent told her that he was Hispanic also. Good genes, she noted. Tall, muscular in a lanky sort of way, and good looking in the boy-next-door way. His dark hair fell over his brow in that messy boyish cut that made a woman want to run her fingers through it to give it some order. Or a man, in his case.

She would have to see his eyes to be sure, but chances were that they would be dark brown in keeping with his heritage. She turned in her chair, waiting for him to pull himself together, yet trying not to look like she was eavesdropping. Or stalking.

“I need some time to think.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked around the patio before taking a few bills from his pocket and tossing them onto the table. “I just need time, that’s all.”

Derek stood and pulled his lover into an embrace. He said something, but it only caused more tears. Finally, the thinner man rushed out of the patio back into the restaurant, and probably out the front door.

Derek sat back down, and hunched over his coffee cup for only a moment, then he sighed loud enough for her to hear, leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms, and pulled out his cell phone to type into it.

This is it. Kara checked her watch. She had to be back to work in twenty minutes, but she had been looking for the perfect candidate for months, and had anticipated the meeting with Mr. Martinez for weeks.

He didn’t look humiliated, or sorry that he’d hurt his boyfriend so badly. Kara chided herself. She couldn’t even see his face. For all she knew he was just as distraught as his lover.

Do it. Now. He’s perfect.

Kara signed the credit card receipt of her bill, and laid her napkin on the table before she could talk herself out of it. She approached the man, who’d set aside the phone that looked more like a small computer.

“Excuse me, could I speak to you for a moment?”

He lifted his eyes to hers, and her heart did a happy dance. The first look at him close up. Yes his eyes were the perfect brown, set in a face that was handsome enough to cover magazines.

He straightened his long legs until he towered over her. His movement startled her, and she took half a step backward to give his imposing body some room. He looked her up and down, in a gesture that reminded her of the construction workers on her block who catcalled every single morning, despite the fact that she didn’t give them any encouragement. That was silly though, this man was gay, and wouldn’t be looking at her with anything less than curiosity. He was taller than she thought. Taller than the others she’d been scouting. That was good.

“I’m sorry to bother you.”

He gestured toward the vacated chair. “No bother. Have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

She hadn’t expected that. Manners were good, smile was good. White teeth, strong jaw. No other man could be anywhere near this perfect.

“No, thank you. I don’t have a lot of time.” She took a seat, and tugged her white skirt over her knees. It was a good thing she was dressed for work, her business attire might give the upcoming proposition a little more merit.

“Derek Martinez.” He offered his hand.

She took his hand, and was pleased with its size and grip. “Kara Bianchi. Again, I apologize but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation just now.”

“It’s not like we were very discreet. He was pretty upset.” Rather than the embarrassed contrite look she expected after being caught cheating, and exposed to a handful of strangers, he only grinned. To his credit, it was a little wry.

“I’ll cut right to the chase, Mr. Martinez. I’m hoping you would be willing to assist me. I’ve been looking for a man with your attributes for some time.”

Not exactly the words she had planned on using. His eyes brightened, and his smile widened.

“Assist you?” With one eyebrow arched into his forehead, he looked cocky and arrogant. He seemed to get over his boyfriend pretty easily. Okay, so he was a jerk. Maybe conceited and a player, but that didn’t really matter for her end result.

Kara’s heart was pounding. She had been planning this discussion for months, but now that it was actually time, she forgot her speech. She took a calming breath, and looked around the patio. Luckily, now there was only one other table occupied, and the couple was too focused on each other to even care about the rest of the world. She faced this all too gorgeous man, who silently waited for her to continue, and swallowed her trepidation.

“Yes. I have a rather important project...”

The man’s eyes never wavered. He stared at her, pinning her to her chair, daring her to look away. Never before had she been so intimidated by speaking to a veritable stranger. Sure, she knew a lot about him, but...

“Go on.” He folded his arms across his chest.

She glanced at the other table, then back at him. “The project is personal, I’d rather not discuss it here.” As if on cue, the hostess led another couple onto the patio.

“I see.” Derek picked up his Blackberry, and pressed a few buttons.

Had she just been dismissed? She organized her thoughts. She couldn’t let him get away from her before she even had a chance to proposition him.

“Are you free at four?”

Her relief had to show in her body language. To cover it, she pulled out her own smartphone and checked her calendar. It was unnecessary, she knew her schedule, but the move allowed her to look somewhere other than at his piercing gaze. “Yes, four o’clock is good. Would you like to meet in my office or yours?”

“Do you know where my office is?”

Heat burned her cheeks. Sure she knew where his office was. She even knew where he lived, and what he drove. She knew he preferred beef to chicken, and she knew that the picture on his Facebook account was taken on a recent ski trip to Utah.

She gripped her smartphone until she thought it might crack. “I assume you work nearby. I’ve seen you in the neighborhood.” There. Innocent enough.

Maybe.

His eyebrow quirked, but only for a second. He didn’t bother hiding the interest in his eyes. Maybe he’s bisexual?

“I thought you looked familiar. I think I saw you in the Warner building recently.”

“There is a good chance. I’m in sales. I feel like I know every office in a three mile radius.” He didn’t need to know that she wasn’t on a sales call that day in the elevator. She chalked her accelerated heartbeat to the threat of discovery. What kind of prison time did stalkers do anyway?

“I’m on the seventeenth floor of the Warner.” He handed her a business card. “I’ll see if I can help you with your...” He lifted that eyebrow. Again. “...project.”

Kara gave him her best professional smile, gathered her clutch, and stood. He earned another point when he stood as well. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Martinez,” she offered her hand, “I’ll see you at four.”

He took her hand, then glanced down at it. He even turned it over to look at her fingers. She followed his gaze, and saw what had fascinated him. Her fingers looked so delicate and pale against the dark skin of his. As a sales woman, out meeting people every day, experiencing handshakes from wilting to painful, this one was a first for her. It was a none-too-subtle verification of her femininity, and even though it was unprofessional and a bit odd, Kara couldn’t help but notice the little hiccup in her heartbeat.

“Yes, I’ll see you then.” He released her hand, and she snatched it back as though it had misbehaved.

“Have a good day.”

She could tell his eyes followed her out of the restaurant, but the heat from his hand stayed with her much longer than that.

She walked the three blocks back into the hotel, and swiped her ID to get into her office. She threw her purse beneath her desk, and herself into her chair.

She found him. After months of searching for the perfect man to father her child. God, how exciting. She guessed him to be around her age, maybe a bit younger. From the girth of his neck, she imagined him to be strong, but she couldn’t really tell since he wore the suit jacket. He exuded health and vitality, but there were tests to confirm what she suspected.

If he agreed.

And if he did, she could be pregnant within the next few months. She tried to imagine what a child sharing this stranger’s genes would look like. Max’s image danced through her mind. Yes, this Mr. Martinez could very well be Max’s brother. Well, cousin maybe. They shared the same coloring, but Max’s soft features were nothing like the potential donor’s, and Max was at least six inches shorter.

Derek Martinez was gorgeous. He looked like a marine recruitment poster in the flesh. Although his sexual orientation wasn’t an issue, Kara couldn’t help but imagine him in her doctor’s office with a specimen cup and his distraught boyfriend.

Not that it was any of her business how the sample was collected. She’d leave that up to Mr. Martinez and his lover. Or ex-lover. Or Playgirl magazine ... whatever it took. It didn’t matter.

Head not heart. Emotions not allowed.

She repeated the mantra as she typed up a quote for the Georgia Teacher’s Association. She was an expert at separating feelings from business. If she took every “no” personally, she wouldn’t be the saleswoman that she was. There was nothing personal about this upcoming meeting either.

Other than the end result. Her future child.

She took a deep breath. Four o’clock. Her heart pounded in excitement.

Excitement? Get a grip, Kara. Admit it. You’re nervous about springing this on him.

Head not heart.

It didn’t matter how sexy he looked. Or that he smelled amazing. Or even that just sitting beside him today reminded her what it felt like to be a real live woman. Emotions just were not allowed. Not with him. Not for this project. She could do it.

With that little pep talk, she switched back into sales mode. She had three important clients waiting for her phone call. Conference season was upon them, and although she normally handed off the events to the banquet manager, the Georgian Audubon Society’s annual conference was a big one for the hotel. She promised Casey, the general manager, that she would continue to give them her personal attention.

Head not heart.

????????

Derek watched Jane, his administrative assistant, lead his four o’clock appointment into his office, and he stopped in his tracks. From his vantage point at the end of the hall, he could even make out her shapely form beneath that stiff skirt.

He made the correct responses to Dan, the WKLA representative on the phone. At least he thought he did. The man had been droning on for fifteen minutes already about the same damn thing. “...and those types of commercials really would work better in a different time slot.”

Through the plate-glass wall of his office, he watched Kara lower herself into the leather chair in front of his desk, looking prim and ... noble. She smiled up at Jane, who was probably offering her a cup of coffee.

“Yeah. I agree.” Derek straightened his tie, and made sure his shirt was tucked in properly. “Why don’t you let me talk to the agent responsible, and I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

Dan’s goodbyes were just as lengthy as his hellos. Derek switched the phone to his other ear.

Personal project. All afternoon Derek had hoped it had something to do with her and him, and maybe involving dinner and a movie. He’d tried to imagine what it could be. From what she’d overheard at lunch, one possibility was that she wanted him to talk to one of her gay friends who was having trouble. Maybe she liked the way he handled it. Maybe she’d be so grateful that she’d invite him over for a drink.

Dan detailed his morning schedule, and Derek paced the hall trying to make the required responses at the proper times.

Maybe she wanted him to put together an advertising campaign for her independent lingerie line. Commercials starring her. He dreamed up scenario after scenario, and each one ended with her in his bed.

“All right then. Thanks for the call, Dan.”

“You bet. I’ll talk to you in the morning. We’ll figure this out when you call. I’ll make sure to be in the office around ... maybe ... oh, I don’t know ... nine ... better make it nine thirty to be safe...”

Derek rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Sounds good...”

“I should give you my cell number, just in case. Have a pen handy?”

If WKLA wasn’t one of the top three television stations, Derek would have hung up on the man. “Yeah. Shoot,” he lied.

Dan rattled it off, and Derek watched Kara discreetly check her watch. “Great. Talk to you tomorrow.”

He snapped his phone shut before Dan could respond, and walked into the room amid feminine laughter. He couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry about that. The phone call that never ends.”

Kara’s genuine smile faded into a professional one, and she stood to face him. “I understand. I appreciate your time on such short notice.”

Jane slipped out, closing the door behind her. Derek gestured toward her chair, and took his behind his desk as she sat back down. “Did Jane offer you some coffee?”

“She did, and I’m fine thank you.”

She certainly was fine. Even sitting on the edge of that chair, with her hands folded properly in her lap, he found his deepest base desires churning to life. The skin on her neck intrigued him. Such a beautiful shade of peachy white, and it looked so smooth and warm ... he curled his fingers into a fist, and pressed it into his thigh.

“Mr. Martinez?”

Her voice shook him out of his fantasy. He blinked, and she came into focus. “Call me Derek.”

She nodded. “Derek, thanks again for your time. I’ll try to be brief.”

Take all the time that you need. “You said you had a personal project?”

“That’s right I...” Her jaw snapped shut, as she glanced toward the door. Was she embarrassed? He reached for his cup of coffee while he waited for her to finish, determined not to show his curiosity.

Finally, inhaling audibly, she continued. “I’m looking for someone to father my child.”

His gaze snapped back up, and he almost tipped over his coffee cup. He expected to see a teasing smile, or maybe a hidden-camera-show host pop out from behind her. Thank God his jaw didn’t drop open. Instead he kept any expression from his face. His libido, however, responded as if she stood up and stripped. So this could end with her in bed with him. He smothered a grin. “Go on.” He took a drink of his coffee.

She lifted her chin, all signs of that brief show of embarrassment gone. Her eyes were clear and unwavering. “What I need, to be blunt, is your sperm.”

He arched his eyebrow. “Sperm?” This woman had balls.

“Yes. I want to have a child, therefore I need sperm.”

“And you’d like me to inseminate you?” He let his gaze travel down her chest. He would have no problem with that.

“Not exactly.”

He tore his eyes away from her curves. Those alabaster cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

“The insemination will take place in a clinic. I would only need your sperm.”

Damn. “And you don’t want to go to a sperm bank because...”

“I did look into that. It’s just all very ... sterile. Yes, I need sperm, but for my child to have the same father as who knows how many others out there, it just felt ... unnatural.”

“So you want sperm from a donor who isn’t accustomed to donating.”

She nodded. “Precisely.” As if this subject came up over coffee every morning, Kara Sorrento looked at him with all the cool confidence of Margaret Thatcher.

“And I look like a good candidate for the job?”

“From what I’ve seen so far. I would be requiring some basic tests before we agree to anything, but you have the desired coloring and build.”

“Desirable to whom?” he teased. If she desired him, or any man for that matter, she hid it well.

Almost imperceptibly, her lips tightened before she answered. “Desirable to me.”

“So ... you’re looking for a six-foot-tall Hispanic brown-eyed man to get you pregnant?”

“Yes, but I’m not asking for anything further than that. I will raise the child as my own, on my own. I have papers drawn up to ensure your privacy and to clear you of all obligations.

He smiled. “I’m a little surprised. You’re a beautiful woman. Why would you look for a stranger to give you a child? Why not settle down with a nice young man and live the American dream?”

“I was married once. I don’t want to remarry; all I want is a child.”

“And a clinic is too ... clinical?”

“Exactly. I want my child to have a name and face to refer to, but I promise you, you won’t be contacted for money or support in any way. If you agree, after his or her eighteenth birthday, you would be able to contact each other. That will be completely up to you.”

He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. She was serious, and he had no response. Never did he imagine having this conversation with a complete stranger. Especially one that looked like she did.

“Of course I plan to compensate you,” she continued. “One thousand dollars to sign the contract, another thousand once I am pregnant, and a payment for each sample you donate. Most banks pay their donors fifty dollars per sample at most. I’m willing to pay two hundred.”

“Per sample.”

“Yes.”

“So I’m coming out of this with at least twenty-two hundred dollars?”

“Yes.”

“And when I knock you up, I’ll never see or hear from you again?” He was deliberately rude. He wanted to see that color rise to her cheeks again, proving that she wasn’t as unfeeling as she tried to look. He was disappointed though. Rather than softening, her face stiffened.

“That’s a rather crude way to put it, but yes. I know this is a lot to think about, and you should talk it over with anyone special in your life.” She glanced at the pictures of his siblings and their kids on his bookcase beside him, then pulled a business card from her suit jacket pocket. “All of my contact information is there. Call me anytime. I honestly want you to take some time before you make a decision, but I will need your response within fifteen days.”

“Is that when you ovulate?” He didn’t even look at her card before sliding it into his own jacket pocket. Still no blush, just a quick flash behind her eyes.

She jammed her card case back into her suit pocket and stood. “If you’d like further information about the deal, contact me. I would be happy to answer any question you may have, and I could email you a copy of the contract to look over.”

He took his time getting to his feet. He really wasn’t finished discussing this with her. Once upright, she wasted no time reaching over the desk for a very business-like handshake.

“Thank you again for seeing me. I await your call.”

Derek watched her leave, cursing himself for allowing her to. He had yet to get under her skin, let alone coax a date out of her, but he couldn’t find a reason to make her stay.

Christ, the woman came into his office and propositioned him. And not in a good way.

Stunned, he lowered himself into his chair, and sucked in a deep breath. She smells good. Like clean linens and sunshine. Her scent lingered, and he breathed it in greedily.

Although there were women in Iceland with more warmth than Kara Sorrento, that damn blush was purely feminine. It heated her skin, and even gave her eyes a spark of life. He wanted to see that again. More than that, he wanted to see her come out of that hard shell.