Free The Lives Between Us by Theresa Rizzo Page A

be sure Skye’s blue Prius was still behind him. He had to admit he was impressed. Skye moved fast. He hadn’t anticipated a visit at work—he’d thought maybe a phone call, at the most, to thank him for dinner. Then he’d almost blown it by overreacting when he turned over the photo of him and Ed. That had to have made her suspicious, but Mark wasn’t ready for her to find out about his friendship with the senator—at least not before he got a chance to know her and find out why she was so pissed at Ed.
    Thinking about those deep brown eyes and full, juicy lips, his stomach clenched. Soft. They’d be smoother than satin, he’d bet. He could kiss those lips all night. That was just one of the things he was looking forward to finding out about Ms. Kendall.
    Not that Mark hadn’t dated beautiful women before. He had, and he had an appropriate appreciation for them—except for deceitful or overly needy women—those he couldn’t stand, but Skye seemed genuine and smart. What started out as a whim might turn into something far more interesting.
    The Grille was an unpretentious place with good food and a comfortable atmosphere. Ordinarily, he’d have run home for a quick shower, shave, and change, before taking his date to a little more upscale restaurant, like The Hill. The Village Grille wasn’t his typical first date type of place, but then Skye wasn’t his typical date either.
    Their first meeting wasn’t typical, her restraint around him wasn’t typical, and her who-cares attitude about his money and connections definitely wasn’t typical. In fact, his relationship with Ed was a definite liability. Skylar Kendall intrigued him.
    After Skye ordered a BLT with avocado, fries—extra crispy—and a glass of cabernet sauvignon, and he ordered a salad, a roast beef sandwich smothered in mushrooms, and a cold Heineken, she folded her hands primly and cast him a curious look. “So. How’d a guy like you get into this kind of business?”
    He cocked his head and raised one eyebrow. “A guy like me?”
    “You know, handsome, smart, socially adept, not some reclusive scientist out to cure the world of disease with some woman’s reproductive leftovers.”
    Was there a compliment buried in there? It sounded like she was flirting with him, albeit, poorly with that reproductive leftovers comment, but her question seemed motivated more by genuine curiosity than any romantic overture.
    “My dad is the doctor/scientist guy and CEO. He started the company. Our head researcher, Eileen, is the one who cures the world of disease with women’s reproductive leftovers. I take care of the fundraising and making this a profitable enterprise so that Dad can lecture and teach.”
    “And have you?” Skye swirled the red wine in the large bowl glass.
    “We’re getting there. I’d consider it a major victory if I could persuade insurance companies to cover the expense of collecting and storing cord blood for those insightful enough to want it stored. We’ve made enough headway so that Dad was able to semi-retire last year.”
    “Well, that’s something. Congratulations.” Skye raised her wineglass in a toast, then tilted the glass and sniffed it before taking a sip.
    Mark forced his gaze away from her full lips, moistened with heady rich wine, back to her eyes and the conversation. “I’ve still got a whole laundry list of things to achieve with this company.”
    “But still, it must be nice to have accomplished your goal and know where you’re going.”
    He heard the wistfulness in her tone—almost envy. “It is satisfying,” he admitted. He took a long drink of his beer, then moved it aside to make room for the meal the waitress brought. “How about you? What do you do?”
    Skye wrinkled her nose and sighed. “I work for the Detroit Chronicle . Right now... I’ve been assigned an advice column, but one day soon I hope to be able to write articles that mean something.”
    “How long have you been a