Misunderstood: In Love with the Nerd (The Miss Series Book 2) (6 page)

She pressed the cancel button with more force than was necessary then scrolled through her contacts and dialed Audrey’s number instead.  The girl was sympathetic to Sonya’s dilemma and, bless her heart, was an expert on hair care.  She promised to be at Sonya’s within an hour with an over-the-counter straightening solution from a nearby pharmacy.

As assured, she arrived at Sonya’s within an hour, reset the girl’s frenzy style then sat down with coffee and magazine to await the results.  Sonya glanced at her friend.  She took a liking to Audrey from the moment they met.  There was something about her that was familiar.  It was almost like she didn’t belong in a waitress job at some bar where pickup lines flowed as freely as the beer on tap.  She was more of a reserved girl.  A little on the shy side where men were concerned.  She seemed more comfortable talking to other people about themselves rather than herself.  As a matter-of-fact, Sonya realized, she really didn’t know much about Audrey’s personal life.

“How long have you been a waitress down at the bar?”

Audrey glanced up, surprised by the question.  “Oh, um, about a year now.”

“What did you do before that?”

“Waitress.”  Audrey confirmed what she apparently felt was the obvious then provided the name of another local bar in town.  “I worked there for five years.”

Surprised, Sonya declared, “No kidding!  Why so long?”

“Why not?”  She frowned back at the question.  “It’s a job.  The tips are good.”

“It just seems like you don’t belong in the business.”

“Oh?”  Sonya realized Audrey was becoming agitated with her questions.  “Because I don’t flaunt myself like you?”

“I don’t flaunt myself.” Sonya was quick on the defense, though a tiny voice begged to differ.  “Well, maybe a little.  But I wasn’t trying to insult you.  You just seem like you belong in an office or as a nurse, or a teacher . . .”

Audrey didn’t notice Sonya’s suddenly distracted gaze and deepening frown.  “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Audrey’s chin snapped up, her eyes growing in horror.  “Who?”

“Daniel.”

Her shoulder’s sagged as she appeared to visibly relax.  Then picking up her magazine again, she said, “I thought we went over this already.  Daniel’s out of reach.”

Sonya became defensive.  “I never said that.”

Leaning forward, Audrey gave Sonya’s knee a reassuring pet.  “Don’t worry.  I’m not interested in Daniel.  You were right, he’s not my type.”

“I wasn’t worried.”  The solution in her hair was beginning to itch.  She wanted nothing more than to scratch her head vigorously.  “Why isn’t he your type?”

“I don’t know.”  She shrugged.  “He’s the computer-techy-type of guy that I have nothing whatsoever in common with.”

Using the palm of her hand she rubbed a towel over an itchy spot on her head.  “He’s really awfully smart.  He just won an award for a computer development he designed.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s actually quite the mathematical genius.  At the age of ten he was already considered a prodigy.  Did you know he has an IQ of a hundred and seventy-three, a masters in computer science, and was class scholar for four years in a row?”

Audrey stared at her friend.  “No, I didn’t know any of that.  Now, I definitely know he isn’t my type.”

Sonya frowned.  An overwhelming sadness came over her.  Poor Daniel.  Audrey was right.  He was different and rare, and he wasn’t anybody’s type.

“I don’t get it.  Then why were you so upset when I throttled your attempts to date him?”

Audrey shrugged.  “A girl like me doesn’t meet too many nice guys.  I mean, let’s compare you to me.  I can’t even have a decent conversation with our boss.  You flirt openly with him.”

This piqued her interest.  “Do you have something against Tristan?”

“Of course not.  Why would you think that?”

“The other night, you were so formal with him.  Has he ever, you know, made unwanted advances on you?”

The blonde’s quick but short laugh came fast.  “Hardly.  He only ever utters a few choice sentences to me.  Like, ‘how was business’, ‘close up shop’, and ‘good night’.  The latter only if we cross paths while leaving at the same time.”

Sonya took note of the girl’s words.  It was true.  Even in her short time at the bar, Tristan locked himself in his office and rarely made an appearance.  He had utter faith in his staff to run the complete show without him.  Her few encounters with him were on her instigation.  They were so few that he constantly forgot her name.

She glanced at Audrey.  He didn’t seem to have difficulty with her name.  Granted, she had worked for him for the past year.  One would hope he would eventually get the name right.  Chuckling, she asked, “So how long did it take him to get your name straight?”

Audrey’s brows dipped.  “What do you mean?”

“Your name.  How long did he call you everything but Audrey?”

Her friend chuckled with the frown between her brows dipping further. “Never.”

Sonya’s smile wavered, then she ventured to say, “And you refer to him as Mr. Manning?”

“As I said, we’re hardly on friendly terms.”  Her smile too disappeared.

She stared at her friend for the longest time before the smell of straightening solution began to sting her eyes and her head began to burn of the solution.  “I think it’s time, Audrey.”

“For what?”  She looked alarmed, then visibly relaxed when Sonya pointed to the towel covering the frizz ball on her head.  “Right, your hair.  Of course, let’s get it out and see how it worked.”

Sonya watched as her friend went to the back room to prepare the cleansing solution.  She was in the process of getting up and following her when she heard some voices coming from the hall corridor.

Intrigued, she went over to investigate.  One of them would obviously belong to Daniel, since his apartment was the only one on the opposite side.  She figured the other voice would probably belong to Mrs. Sterling making yet another complaint against Sonya.  She listened in with interest and amusement.  This would create a bout of small fun.

However, she was surprised when the other voice actually belonged to an unknown source.  It wasn’t Mrs. Sterling after all.  Curious, she stood up on tiptoe and peered through the peephole.  She could see Daniel standing in his apartment entrance and a redheaded woman was standing directly in front of him.  He looked slightly grave and the woman’s voice sounded excited.  Sonya pressed her ear closer to the wooden door.

Though their voices were still not very audible, she was able to snatch a few clear words.  She heard Daniel say and in the process catching her attention; “I missed you tonight.”

“Oh Daniel, I feel just horrible,” the redheaded woman said.  “You know how much I wanted to be with you.”

Sonya’s brow rose in intrigue and squinted her eye to get a better image of the woman.  Daniel said something but she wasn’t terribly sure what it was because the woman moved and blocked him from Sonya’s view.  When she stepped back again, she noticed something in Daniel’s hand.

“I’ve got to get going before Jonathan notices me missing.  I just couldn’t bear to let you think I didn’t care.”

“I know.”  He grinned.

Then the woman unexpectedly reached up and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  She said something else but Sonya wasn’t able to catch it.

His response was muffled in the mass of red curls and Sonya found herself wanting to give anything to hear their words.  The dramatic scene lit her fascination.

“I’ve got to go.”  The woman backed up further and nearly blocked Sonya’s entire view. 

Annoyed, Sonya waved her hand as if to shove the woman out of the way.  “We’ll get together soon.”

Though she couldn’t see him, she heard Daniel reply.  “Promise?”

“Yes.”  Giving him another parting kiss, she ran down the corridor.  Daniel watched her go. 

Then without warning he looked up and directly at Sonya’s door.  She immediately leaped away from the peephole as if she were caught spying; even knowing full well he couldn’t see her.

“Sonya, are you coming?”  Audrey’s voice drew her attention away from the closed apartment door and the little soap opera on the opposite side.

Turning to head down to the bathroom, her mind replayed the little scene over again in her mind.  Who was this redhead?  Though it was obvious the woman hadn’t been at his apartment for long, the passionate disclosure of their conversation would imply they shared an intimate relationship, possibly even secretive. 

Sonya had a sudden urge to find out just who this redheaded woman was, and why Daniel was keeping her a secret.

* * *

After knocking on Sonya’s apartment door, Daniel ran a hand through his tousled hair.  His eyes were beginning to ache after staring at the computer screen for so long.  He hadn’t minded the interruption when she called and begged him to rush over.  Another one of her female crisis, he was sure.  It gave him the break he needed but wouldn’t have given himself.  Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes then stretched his arms behind his head and flexed his shoulder blades.  What he wouldn’t give for a massage.

“It’s not locked, Daniel, come on in.”

The first thing that always struck him when he first entered her apartment was the color.  She used so much of it.  It had an uncanny way of matching the owner.  The next thing he always noticed was the smell.  She was constantly burning incense candles.  Either she believed they improved her skin texture or her mood swings, he couldn’t recall which.

From the back bedroom she emerged wearing a new dress.  Being a man, he would refer to it only as a dress.  However, the garment deserved a finer name.  It was a light material that flowed softly along her body and over her slender hips and came to stop mid-thigh.  Those magnificent legs of hers looked long and absolutely spectacular in it.

“Daniel?”  She said his name, drawing his attention back up.  But it was her hair that had him speechless.  It hung long and glistening down to her waist.  Not a curl in site.

A grin began to slowly appear on her face, obviously mocking him at his very evident male appraisal of her looks.  He had to clear his throat before answering.  “Yes?”

“I wanted your opinion.”  She eyed him closely.  “Do you think you can give me an unbiased one?”

His face grew hard.  Conceited wench.  “I think so.”

Giving him a broad grin, she came closer and scooped up her hair.  “Up or down?”

The lump in his throat returned.  Lord, she was far too close.  She smelled so good.  “Um, down, it looks good down.”

She raised a brow.  “No commentary?  No spew of useless information?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet as he took a swift step back.  “Did you know a strand of hair consists of keratin protein containing an amino acid that produces a disulphide bridge—”

“Daniel.”

“—which links protein chains in the hair—”

“Daniel.”

He halted mid-sentence when his legs hit the back of her sofa and she took a step closer.  “Y-yes?”

“How do I look without curls?”

“Nice.”  That cursed lump was beginning to choke him slowly.

“Nice?”  She rolled her eyes.  “Anyone ever tell you, Daniel Keller, you need to work on your words of flattery?”

He simply shook his head, the uncomfortable bulge in his throat was beginning to have a similar reaction in his chest and he feared would begin a downward descent.

Leaning closer, she frowned at him.  “Are you all right?  I mean, you don’t look so good.”

He couldn’t have stopped his hand if he wanted.  As if belonging to another man, he watched as it lifted and gently ran through her long tresses.  It was obvious she was taken aback, but she only turned her head slightly in the direction of his hand and gave him a curious look.

“Uh, it, um—”  He swallowed the thick mucus forming in the back of his throat.  Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe, dammit.  “It looks better.”

She grinned all at once, yet still did not step away from his hand where it remained drowning in her hair.  “You didn’t like the afro?”

“I like it straight.”

Her smile faltered.  “Really?”

“It suits you.  It’s more natural.”

She stared up at him speechless.  Their eyes locked then all at once something foreign shot across her face before she took a swift step away from his hand.  “It is.”

“Pardon?”  He blinked, dropping his abandoned hand to his side.

“Naturally straight.”  She pointed to her head.  “My hair.”

He nodded in understanding, then sighed heavily, trying to collect himself.  Hell, she always made him feel like a horny adolescent teenager.  “Was that all you wanted?  Because I have, um, I’m working on something and I’ve got to go—um, I have to meet my intern down at the Institute in, uh, well—soon.”

“Yes.”  She gave him the same smile she had always bestowed him over the past year.  No sexual innuendo, no enticement, no temptation.  Just a simple, friendly and cordial smile.  “Thank you, Daniel.  What would I do without you?”