Model Perfect Passion. Melanie Schuster

I’m in construction now, I’d like to learn more about real estate, and if you can spare the time, I’d really appreciate an opportunity to talk with you about the market here in Chicago,” she said. She thought she’d done a perfect job of expressing just what she wanted in a concise and professional manner, so when he pulled out a business card, she was pleased.

      “If you’re going to be in town, how about we have lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

      “Well, I hadn’t planned on leaving town anytime soon, so lunch would be very nice. What time looks good for you?” she asked.

      Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re living in Chicago now?”

      Billie nodded as she wrote her cell phone number on the back of his card. “I moved here in December. Here’s my cell number. Why don’t you call me tomorrow morning and tell me where you’d like to meet? I really appreciate your time, Mr. Wainwright. This is very kind of you. It was nice meeting you,” she added. “I hate to meet and run, but I see my sister over there and she has that time-to-leave look on her face,” she said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” She shook his hand again and turned to leave, completely missing the look on his face. If she’d seen it, she would have been much better prepared for the next day.

      The ride back to Nick and Dakota’s house was much livelier than the ride to the gala. It started when Dakota asked her about Jason.

      “So you met Jason Wainwright,” she said. “I saw the two of you talking. What did you think of him?” She turned around in the front seat so she could look at her sister.

      Billie shrugged. “He’s okay. He comes across as being a little overconfident, but if I had his résumé, I would too, I guess. He’s supposed to call me tomorrow for a working lunch.” She looked at the lights of the city as the big car glided silently through the streets. “How well do you know him, Nick? What’s your take on him?”

      Nick glanced at her in the rearview mirror as he answered her questions. “I basically only know him through business. I know he’s got a real good reputation for being honest and reliable. He seems to have real good instincts about the business. We’re not like drinkin’ buddies or anything, so like I said, I really don’t know him. But I do know that he likes beautiful women and he has a big rep as a player, so watch yourself. I don’t want to have to deal with him.”

      Billie knew that he meant every word he said, too. Nick was undoubtedly the most protective man she’d ever met outside of her brother and her father. She thought she’d better reassure Nick before he decided to make a preemptive strike of some kind against Jason Wainwright. “Look, this is strictly business, Nick. I’m just trying to get the inside scoop on Chicago’s residential real estate picture. I’m not trying to get with him and he already has a lady. But that’s not an issue because I’m not looking for a man. He’s nice-looking, but I know plenty of handsome guys. It’s not like I just fell off a turnip truck. I can handle myself,” she said.

      It was Dakota’s turn to look in the backseat at her sister. “Nice-looking? Were we looking at the same man? He’s a little more than nice-looking, Billie. He’s handsome, honey. Almost as handsome as my husband, but not quite,” she said with a sultry laugh. “Nobody’s that fine but my Nick.”

      “Ooh, you newlyweds need to quit,” Billie groaned. “You forget I’ve worked with some of the best-looking creatures on the face of the earth and some of them were just that, creatures. Most of them were genuinely nice guys, but some of them, whoo-wee! Some of them were dumber than a box of rocks, honey. And some were stuck up and evil, too. Just because somebody looks good doesn’t mean they have a good personality or morals,” she said, yawning slightly. “Mr. Wainwright is handsome, I guess, but trust me, he could look like a cartoon and I wouldn’t care as long as he shares some knowledge with me.”

      They had reached the house and Nick told her to stay put while he warmed up her car. “I’m going to follow you home to make sure you get there okay.” Billie leaned into the headrest and watched as Nick put his arm protectively around her sister and walked her to the door. It took him a few minutes to get back to the car because he was walking through the house to make sure it was secure before leaving Dakota, even for the short time it would take him to trail Billie home and return. She felt a tiny pang in the region of her heart as she wondered if she would ever have what Dakota had, a man who loved her beyond measure and would do anything for her, would protect her, would cherish her always.

      Nick’s hand on the door jarred her out of her daydream. “Come on, little sister, I got your whip warmed up so let’s hit it. I don’t like to leave my bride alone too long.”

      She smiled up at him as he helped her out of the car and led her to her own vehicle. They hugged briefly and she slid behind the wheel. The smile stayed on her face as she drove to her town house. There was something really nice about having Nick worry about her, even for a few minutes. One of these years I’m gonna have to think about getting one of those for my very own, she thought. But first, I’m getting a good night’s sleep.

      Chapter 3

      The next day, Billie rose early, as she always did, and as soon as she brushed her teeth she went in search of food. Breakfast was always the first thing on her mind when she woke up. The rumbling of her stomach usually woke her from a dream about food before the alarm clock went off. Today was no exception to that routine. After making an inspection of the refrigerator’s contents, she assembled a bowl of granola with strawberries, a carton of yogurt, a slice of seven-grain bread, toasted, with peanut butter and a glass of pineapple juice. That was actually a light breakfast for Billie. She worked hard and played hard and she liked food. She didn’t miss a meal if she could help it. While she was drinking the pineapple juice, she looked at her kitchen clock while contemplating making another piece of toast.

      “I’d better not,” she said aloud. “I have too much to do.” She got up from the work island that doubled as a breakfast bar and quickly washed the few dishes she’d used. She swept the floor and made sure everything was in place in the kitchen before tackling the dining and living rooms. All she really had to do in those rooms was dust, and she could have actually skipped that step. Billie was a very tidy person and preferred that everything around her stay that way. This was partly because it was her nature to crave order, and partly because she was practical down to her bones. If she kept her abode spotless it allowed for more spontaneity in her life. She could entertain drop-in guests without running frantically from room to room trying to push things under beds and into closets, which was the practice of some of her friends. And she was too frugal to pay someone to clean up after her; that was money she could put into her IRA or her investment fund or her savings. Billie had a plan for her life and frivolous spending wasn’t a part of it.

      Once she was satisfied that the living and dining rooms were perfect, she went to the bedroom and changed the sheets before making the bed. After the bedroom was tidied to her satisfaction, it was time to think about her own beautification. She lay across the bed and thought about what she should wear for her lunch meeting. She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling while she mentally assessed her wardrobe. “Hmm. Jason Wainwright is brilliant, educated and sophisticated,” she said while she ticked off these points on her fingers. “He dresses like a million bucks.” To underscore this point she turned over on her stomach and reached for the magazines that were stacked neatly on the bedside table. Each one had a story about Jason Wainwright and there were some very nice shots of him in business attire, as well as casual dress. “Business or casual? It’s Saturday, so it should be not so dressy. But this is business, so it should be kinda upscale,” she murmured.

      She looked down at her long legs in her favorite plaid flannel pajama pants and then pulled out the hem of her pajama top, which was an old football jersey. “I’ve got to get some new sleepwear,” she said. “And I’ve got to get a dog or a cat or a bird or something. I obviously need someone to talk to because if I keep talking to myself someone is going to have me committed.” She put the magazines back and went into the bathroom to shower. A nice hot shower with her favorite bath gel would get her head together and probably solve her wardrobe dilemma, too. Sure enough,