Lessons from the Heart. Dorothy Clark

them. Wait until you see me in my new dress. Byeeee.”

      Or maybe not. David lifted his hand and rubbed the muscles at the nape of his neck. Brandee might be using him to polish up her social image, but it didn’t do his prestige any harm to have a beautiful model draped on his arm either. And you never knew who would show up at Charlene’s parties. She definitely traveled with the high crowd. Saturday night was a must. So why didn’t he feel his usual enthusiasm? Was it because he couldn’t get a cloud of dark red hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes out of his mind? Let alone the power-packed smile that went with them.

      David frowned, leaped the two steps up into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. He hadn’t been able to get Erin Kelly out of his mind all week. She’d even cost him his Wednesday night handball game with Ted.

      David scowled and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He’d dated quite a few women, but none of them had attached themselves so firmly to his thoughts that he couldn’t concentrate. That had never happened before.

      When it’s right—it’s right.

      Ted’s words set his teeth on edge. “Buddy, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Erin Kelly is definitely not right for me. So you and Ms. Kelly can both get out of my head!”

      David guzzled the orange juice, rinsed the glass, then stuck it in the dishwasher and grabbed the handset from the kitchen phone. He was in a lousy mood tonight, but he knew the cure. He pushed a button with his thumb.

      “Hello?”

      That breathy thing she did with her voice suddenly seemed irritating. He scowled. “Hello, Brandee.”

      “David, darling! You got my message?”

      “Yes. That’s why I’m calling.” David put his odd mood down to the residue of emotion left over from the shooting and forced a light note into his voice. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in that dress Saturday night.”

      Chapter Three

      Erin frowned down at the paper she was correcting, glanced at the little boy in the third row and pursed her lips. There had to be a reason for the error, he was one of her brightest students. He never made a mistake when it came to choosing the correct vowel to make a word. “Michael, would you come here for a moment please?”

      The blond head lifted instantly. The five-year-old put down his pencil and hurried up to her desk. She motioned for him to come stand beside her. “Michael, this is your paper. Would you read the word with the vowel you’ve chosen please?”

      “Buke.”

      “And what would it be with the other vowel choice?”

      “Bike.”

      “That’s right. Now, which one do you want to choose?”

      “Buke.”

      Erin studied Michael’s face for a moment. He was dead serious. Why would he choose the u instead of the i? “Use buke in a sentence, Michael.”

      “When I’m bad, my daddy bukes me.”

      Ah! Erin fought back a grin. “That’s rebukes, Michael. When you’re bad, your daddy rebukes you.”

      “Oh.” Michael’s little blond eyebrows drew together and he pointed at the paper. “Then that’s wrong. Can I change it?”

      “May I change it?” Erin gave him a hug. “Yes, you may.” She handed him the paper. “Bring it back when you’ve corrected it.” She watched Michael scurry back to his desk, then rose and hurried from the room as her suppressed mirth threatened to break free.

      “Erin?”

      She glanced toward the office. Betty Fowler motioned her to come in. “You have a telephone call.”

      David slipped his cell phone into his suit coat pocket. That was that. Erin Kelly would meet him at the Oak Street Diner at four-thirty to answer the rest of his questions about Professor Stiles’s literacy program. Too bad all the people he had to interview for stories weren’t that polite, pleasant or accommodating. Or soft spoken. A smile curved his lips. Erin Kelly had a great voice. And fantastic looks. Those eyes of hers—

      Hold up, buddy! Don’t travel down that road. It doesn’t matter how attractive or nice Erin Kelly is—she’s not for you. Not with that religious baggage she’s carrying around!

      David shook his head, checked traffic and ran across Bartlett Street to Domingo’s. Given the strength of his attraction to Erin Kelly, it was a good thing he’d only asked her to meet him for coffee. Twenty minutes tops, and he’d be out of there. Then he’d never see Erin Kelly again. But that was later. Right now he had a few questions to ask Danny Arcano about that shooting the other night. Danny always knew the talk on the streets.

      David focused his attention on the job at hand, shoved open the door of the bar and stepped into the dark interior.

      No matter how Erin tried to calm herself, nerves flittered in her stomach. She knew she was being silly. This wasn’t personal. David Carlson only wanted to ask her some questions. Still…the flitters increased.

      Erin scowled, took a quick peek in the visor mirror and pushed her hair back behind her ears. It didn’t help much, but without a comb it would have to do. Why didn’t she carry a purse like other women! She stared at the pink her nervous tension brought to her cheeks and wrinkled her nose in distaste. At least she didn’t have to worry about being pale. She looked like a clown.

      Erin flipped the visor up in disgust, reached into the ashtray for the lip balm she used to keep her lips soft and moist and spread it on. Maybe she should use it on her tongue, too—her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow. Relax! You handled the first interview well.

      She gave an unladylike snort. Like that was the reason she was tense! It was the thought of David Carlson that made her nervous. She’d never reacted to a man the way she had to him. When their gazes had met that first time, and he’d taken hold of her hand—

      Okay. Enough of the foolishness! She was ready. Erin glanced down at her melon-colored jacket dress, sighed and climbed from the car. Why hadn’t she worn her new, flax-colored suit today, which made her look older, more professional? Because she didn’t know David Carlson would call and ask her to meet him for coffee after work.

      And there went those flitters again. Stop it! It’s only a business appointment. Erin frowned, crossed the parking lot and reached for the chrome bar on the diner’s blue-painted door as she stepped into the canopied entrance.

      “Allow me.”

      Erin jerked sideways and glanced up straight into David Carlson’s smiling face. He must have been waiting for her. Had he seen her primping in the car? She turned away as the telltale warmth of embarrassment crept into her cheeks. So much for presenting a professional demeanor.

      “A dollar for your thoughts.” David reached around in front of her and pulled the door open.

      “A dollar?” Erin stepped into the diner. “That’s generous of you.” She slanted a look at him. “Last I knew, thoughts were only worth a penny.”

      “Inflation.” David followed her inside. “Besides, you looked so serious, your thoughts are probably worth more than a dollar.” He ushered her to a booth by a window. “Did you have a hard day at work?”

      Erin shook her head and slid onto the red vinyl bench seat. “I never have a hard day. I love my job. The children are wonderful.” She looked over at him, feeling more at ease with the width of the aluminum-edged table between them. “How about you?”

      “Well, I can’t say I never have a hard day.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Not everyone appreciates the job I do. In fact some of them get downright nasty when I’m investigating a story they’re involved in. But, like you, I love my work—in spite of the rough situations I occasionally encounter.”

      “Are