Conflicting Hearts by J. D. Burrows Read Free Book Online

flutter. My
usual physical reactions raise their ugly head, because my mind can’t handle an
ounce of stress. I hate myself , I complain, and walk back to my desk.
    I keep checking the time as it slips by, wondering why he
hasn’t called. Perhaps he’s with a client, in a meeting, or didn’t come into
work because his neck is out of whack. It’s possible. Four o’clock arrives,
then four-thirty. Maybe he’s changed his mind—that’s more probable. He’s
thought about his invitation and wants to back out. I wouldn’t be surprised.
    My cell phone starts to vibrate on my desk top. I jolt and
glance at the caller ID that reads Anderson & Wyatt Law Firm. It’s him. I
pick the phone up, rise from my seat, and answer it as I’m walking toward the
employee lounge.
    “Hello?”
    “Rachel, it’s Ian.”
    “Hi, Ian,” I answer unemotionally. I try not to sound too
anxious.
    “I’m glad you called. I was getting worried there that you
wouldn’t.” He definitely sounds anxious.
    “Oh, it’s just been a busy week.”
    “Yeah, me too. Put in a couple of long hours the past few
evenings.”
    “Sorry,” I say, feeling genuinely bad this guy has to work
so much.
    “Have you decided about Saturday?”
    “Yes.”
    “So?”
    “Okay, I’ll go under certain conditions.”
    “Name them.”
    “Can we hike at Multnomah Falls? You know, to the top?
Haven’t done that in years, and I think it would be fun.”
    “Yeah, sure. You up for the steep climb?”
    I hadn’t thought about that. It’s a killer walk, that’s for
sure. “If we go slow, and you promise not to laugh at me when I need to stop
and catch my breath.”
    “Deal. What time you want me to pick you up?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Nine o’clock sound okay to you? We should
get there about ten.”
    “Sounds fantastic. Want to do breakfast beforehand?”
    “Uh, no,” I say emphatically. The rascal chuckles.
    “Okay, I get it. I’ll pack some snacks in my backpack just
in case.”
    “Okay.” I already know I’m going to refuse them.
    “Well, thanks for calling, Rachel, and I look forward to our
hike. See you Saturday morning.”
    “Okay.”
    My nose wrinkles in embarrassment over the same word I’ve
said three sentences in a row. He’s going to think I’m pretty dumb if all I can
articulate is okay…okay…okay.
    “Bye,” he says, sounding pleased with himself.
    “Bye.” The call ends. I lean against the wall and catch my
breath. This whole thing is pure torture.
    I walk back to my desk and think about him for a few more
minutes. It dawns on me that I haven’t done an Internet search on this guy.
Quickly, I glance around the office, and everybody is busy. My boss has left
for the day, so I click on the web explorer. It pops up, and I head straight
for the search box and type in “Ian Richards Attorney at Law.” A few seconds
later, a massive laundry list of information fills the page. My hand clutches
the mouse, and I inhale a surprised breath.
    His law firm comes up first, along with other search results
such as professional organizations, Oregon State Bar Association, a former law
firm he worked at, and a page on the same social media site that I use
    It’s impossible not to giggle with glee over that discovery.
I click on that first and groan in disappointment. He’s got all his information
locked down—his wall, his pictures. Damn . I click on “About” and there’s
not much there either, but I do see his relationship status. It says “Divorced . ”
    I lean back in my chair. “You sly dog, you,” I mumble under
my breath. “Left that little tidbit out.” My own guilt pokes me. You didn’t
tell him that you were married before either. Y eah, yeah, I know. I’ll cross
that bridge when I come to it , I rag on my conscience.
    My eyes go back up the search results, and I click on his
law firm information. A picture of him pops up. He’s dressed in a pinstriped,
dark-gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with diagonal gray