The Favour. Cara Summers
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prepared is my motto. Picked it up in the Boy Scouts. You want to hear it?”
Amused in spite of herself, Sierra said, “I’m not sure.”
“Be a shame to waste it. I geared it to suit my audience. You being a scientist, I figure you’re going to be curious about whether or not what we both felt last night was some kind of fluke—a one-time flash in the pan—or whether it might happen again. And again. From a scientific viewpoint, the only way to find out would be to run the experiment again, right?”
Sierra’s smile widened. “Nicely done. But it seems to me if I answer your question, I’m issuing an invitation.”
“Yep. That’s the way I see it too. How about it?”
“I don’t think so.” She bit back a sigh of regret.
“I didn’t take you for a coward, Doc.”
His comment hit the bull’s eye and had Sierra straightening her shoulders. “I’m not.”
“Then how about meeting me for a drink at the Blue Pepper later this evening?”
Panic and regret warred inside her as she took a deep breath. “I can’t. I have plans. In fact, I’m on the way to the Blue Pepper to meet someone now.”
“Your sisters?” he asked.
“No.” She paused, frowning. “How did you know I have sisters?”
“I was curious so I asked the bartender about the women you were in such a rush to join last night. Look, how about if I offer you an incentive to meet with me? I’ve got something—a blue card that fell out of your bag last night.”
Sierra felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
“Looks like a to-do list.”
“I…it’s…” What must he think? She placed a hand against her heart to keep it from hammering right out of her chest as the steps she’d written down scrolled through her mind. Speed date, analyze data, select a lover, select the proper sex techniques… She could pretty much guess what he might be thinking.
“I figured you might want it back.”
“No.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “It’s nothing. You can just throw it away.”
“Sure thing. So…if you’re not meeting your sisters, I assume you’ve got a date tonight?”
“Yes.” Relief streamed through her. He wasn’t going to press her about the list.
“You’ve already selected a lover then?”
“No,” she said as a knock sounded at the door and Zoë McNamara, her research assistant, peeked in.
“I was hoping I would catch you,” Zoë said.
“Can you hold for a minute?” Sierra said into the phone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” her assistant said.
“You haven’t.” As she gestured her into the office, Sierra studied the small brunette in front of her. In terms of looks, she and Zoë were polar opposites. Her assistant was a short, slender woman with brown hair that she wore pulled back into a braid. But Sierra could see herself in Zoë’s total dedication to her studies and to the project they were working on. Zoë wore reading glasses with large dark-framed lenses that made her look like a total, academic nerd—exactly what Sierra had been for the last eight years.
She was determined to change that.
“What is it, Zoë?”
“I came for the reports you wanted me to look over.”
“I haven’t gotten to them yet,” Sierra said. They were somewhere in the pile of work on her desk.
Zoë reached into one of the pockets in her baggy sweater. “You left this on my desk.”
Sierra stared down at the blue note card that contained the questions she needed for her speed dates. How could she have possibly left it on Zoë’s desk? If she’d gone to the Blue Pepper without them, the evening would have been a complete waste.
“Thank you.” Sierra reached for the cards.
Zoë hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Is anything wrong? I mean…you never forget things. And I’ve never known you to fall behind on your work.”
“Maybe I’ve been working too hard,” Sierra said. But she was pretty sure that the reason for her distraction was right now on the other end of her cell phone. The thought made her frown.
“Well, then…” Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Zoë backed toward the door and then turned and scurried through it.
Sierra sighed. Looking at Zoë was too much like looking into a mirror, and she was tired of the image.
As she lifted the phone to her ear, she took a quick glance at her watch. “Hi. Look, I have to go. I’m late. And I hate to be late.” She grabbed her canvas bag and slipped the blue note card into it.
“You’d better take your umbrella. I’d say it’s going to start to rain in DC within the next twenty minutes or so.”
As if to confirm his prediction, a roll of thunder sounded. Sierra glanced out the window and saw the sky was growing steadily darker. Where had she put her umbrella? Not in her bottom drawer where it should be. Not on her bookshelves. Turning, in a complete circle, she spotted it leaning in the corner next to the door. Tucking her cell phone under her ear, she scooped the umbrella up and stuffed it under her arm.
“So who’s the ‘sort of’ date with?”
“I don’t know.” After stepping into the hallway, she set the canvas bag and umbrella down so she could lock her door. “It’s sort of a blind date.”
“Why in hell does a woman who looks like you have to go on a blind date?”
There was such astonishment in his voice that Sierra stopped at the head of the stairs. “Thank you. I think that’s a compliment.”
“You don’t have to thank me for speaking the truth. But blind dates can be dangerous. What do you know about this guy?”
Sierra smiled as she reached the first landing. “You sound like my sister Natalie. She’s a cop. And it isn’t just one guy I’m going to meet tonight. I’m going on a sort of group blind date. Have you ever heard of speed dating?”
“No.”
Sierra stepped out of the Whitman Building and cut across the quad in the direction of P Street. “It’s kind of like musical chairs. I’m going to meet and talk with a series of men. I get ten minutes with each one. Then someone blows a whistle and we each move on.”
“So you’ve got ten minutes to make your impression?”
“Yes.” Sierra gave the sky a wary glance.
“Sounds like you gotta judge a lot of books by their covers.”
“True. But this process eliminates much of the pressure of a regular blind date.”
“And you haven’t had to spend a whole evening with a dud as you might on a blind date.”
“Something like that.”
“Do you do this a lot?”
“This is my first time. I’ve observed the ritual as part of my research on a book I’m writing, and I’ve come up with a few questions to utilize the time efficiently. But I’m a little nervous.”
“Why don’t you practice on me?”
“What?” Sierra nearly stumbled as she turned onto P Street.
“You know. Give the questions