Eye of the Tiger

  Eye of the Tiger

  Roll of the Dice, Book 3

  Melanie Greene

  Contents

  About this Book

  Roll of the Dice Game

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Acknowledgments

  Excerpt from Let the Good Times Roll

  About the Author

  Also by Melanie Greene

  A limerick about this romance:

  Their matchmaker folks think it’d be great

  If Natalie and Evan would date

  Watch them say, “No thanks,”

  But plow into the banks

  Of the slippery slope where they skate

  Roll of the Dice Game

  This novel is dedicated to

  The best sons a mom ever knew

  Kind, witty, and smart

  They fill up my heart

  D and K, this book is for you

  Chapter One

  He wasn't tall.

  Natalie East was eye-to-collar with the smooth expanse of Evan Lee’s dove grey fresco suit as they waited with all the other caffeine-deprived business types to order their mid-morning drinks.

  He was dark and handsome, as she knew before walking through Black Gold Coffee's door. His mother's comprehensive family photos prepared her for the open and expectant face he turned every time the door swung wide. His smile was charming. If he were taller, the way his gaze moved straight past her might seem like oversight instead of something worse. But it was impossible for him to turn without regarding her, which was evidence Evan was not the prince his parents claimed.

  He scanned the people who entered with the swirl of muggy, early summer air. When none of them met whatever low standard of beauty he seemed to expect from the pictures his mother provided, his expression blanked and he turned back to the extensive menu board. His hand tightened on his cell phone. Again.

  Natalie sighed. Again.

  She could leave without her macchiato freddo. She should leave. Her debate about leaving started the first time he looked through her, as she was about to offer her hand. The way he dismissed her and looked to the trio who came in behind her left her skimming her fingers across the top of her head, checking her chignon was secure. The lure of her favorite downtown coffee shop was less tantalizing every time he glanced her way without a hint of recognition.

  Introducing herself now would be awkward. The smart choice was for her to leave.

  In May, Natalie and her mom Elaine traveled with a group to Turkey. Evan's parents were on the same tour. Natalie's luggage was not. It got stuck in a Parisian baggage handlers' strike, and they were yachting along the Turquoise Coast before she was back in her own clothes. For a week she alternated touristy t-shirts, her mother's too-tight leggings, and a pair of traditional harem-style pants which failed to flatter her waistline. And no pharmacy or bazaar in either European or Asian Turkey carried the product required to stop her giant frizzy mess of hair from becoming her only noticeable feature.

  Koray and Marisa Lee saw past the hair. Possibly because the trip to Turkey, ostensibly a birthday treat, morphed into two weeks of matchmaking the moment Elaine heard Marisa and Koray's youngest was moving to Houston at the end of the month. Every communal breakfast and bus tour was punctuated by Marisa and Elaine discussing the merits of their offspring. Koray was quieter, but he contributed the occasional random fact about Evan. His baseball trophies. His eight college acceptances. His reputation among his nieces and nephews for picking the perfect birthday presents.

  A key part of Nat's job involved describing properties in their best light. Overgrown yards became natural landscaping. Holes in the walls were prime remodeling opportunities. Tight hallways leading to weirdly shaped rooms made up the unique aspects of a quaint family home. So the Lees' advocacy of their son sounded to her like the worst stereotype of the baby of the family: indulged, narcissistic, irresponsible.

  Marisa introduced Natalie and Evan via email. Natalie wrote a generic 'welcome to town' message. He didn't reply. She was relieved, and put him as much out of her mind as her mother's questions allowed, until a couple of weeks later when her cell rang with an unfamiliar number.

  "Natalie East speaking." Her pals harassed her about her full-name greeting regardless of who was calling, but it was ingrained.

  "Natalie, hi. It's Evan. Evan Lee. Marisa and Koray's son?"

  Well, who knew his voice would be full of smoke and chimes? "Evan. Nice to hear from you." Which may as well be true. It wasn't not nice, but she'd marked his not contacting her as a good thing, despite Elaine asking every other day if they'd gotten together.

  "Yeah. You, too. I mean, to put a voice to the name and all."

  "And photos," she said.

  "Photos. Right. I guess I've got you at a disadvantage, since now I've seen you and talked to you."

  "I don't know how to break this to you, but your mom has your whole life on her phone."

  He groaned too theatrically to take his dismay at face value; clearly he knew those photos showed him at his best. If he even had a worst, as opposed to his naturally being adorable and hot and having the playful grin exhibited in his parents' parade of pictures. "Sorry about them."

  "I like them a lot." She paused a moment. "Your parents, I mean. Not the photos."

  His laugh was one of those deep bells, the kind that ring sonorously over entire mountain ranges. "Consider me humbled. Well, this is promising. I'd better start by saying you can absolutely say no to me."

  "No."

  "I haven't even asked yet."

  She dumped her laundry on the bed and started folding. "Just testing the truth of your statement. You said I could, and as soon as I did, you tried to talk me out of it. Whatever it is. Doesn't bode well."

  "Damn. Sorry."

  "I'm telling your parents." Why was she teasing him? Something in his voice must have resonated with her funny bone, because she was throwing silliness at him without having any idea how he'd react.

  Playfully, as it turned out. "If you tell my mom on me, I'm telling your mom on you. Or, I suppose, letting my mom tell your mom."

  Just what she needed--an irate Elaine asking about Nat's evasion of what she deemed the perfect match. "You can't tattle on me. I didn't curse."

  "I can, too. Here I called to ask you out, and I can tell my parents you shot me down before I even finished my very polite and respectful request for your company."

  Oh, crap. "Evan. It's very kind of you, and I know we should meet..."

  "Hang on. Don't stop me yet."

  "And I do want to meet you," she went on, because he was trying to convince her even though he pretended he would accept her answer.

  "It's not a date. I mean, not a real date."

  "And I'm sure you're a fine person, everything Marisa says about you, it's nothing personal. I would rather not go out with you when it's clear we aren't compatible, so--"

  "It's not a real date, and why aren't we compatible? Who said we're not compatible?"

  "So like I said, it's kind of you to ask, but I
am going to decline. And, I'm going to hold you to your word. I am absolutely saying no, but thank you." She was a little surprised he wasn't still trying to interrupt her. Or to respond to her speech, now it was over.

  Maybe he was thinking of his parents. Maybe they pressured him, too. Natalie added, "It's fine if you need to let your parents know you asked. I've told them I wasn't on the market, but if saying you tried to take me out and I refused, if it keeps them off your back, tell them about it. Or I'll tell my mom, and she can let them know."

  Evan blew out a breath, which was hell on her ear thanks to the reverb it set up. "It's not that. I told them a dozen times I don't want to date you."

  Well, ouch. "Ouch."

  "You seem like a lovely person. But they know I'm not into serious relationships, and Elaine told them about your whole settling down situation, so it's clear--"

  "My whole what?" Didn't bother Natalie at all to be the one interrupting, and expecting him to answer her questions, unlike how she'd treated his interjections.

  Evan paused. "Your whole settling down situation. With the pilot and your five-year plan and all. I know it's personal, but they did tell me, so there's no point pretending I don't know."

  She was going to have words with her mother. Again. Elaine was still reeling from the abrupt disappearance of Natalie's long-term boyfriend the month before her thirtieth birthday. Nat wanted to know what made Chris go underground with no warning, but her mom acted like the world may as well have stopped. With effort, Natalie unclenched her jaw and spoke. "I do not have a five-year plan. At least, not one related to dating. And the pilot--Chris--is history. It's been over for months. I'm not looking for a replacement."

  "Oh. Sure. Okay." He sounded like he was humoring her.

  Natalie hated when people humored her. "Look, Elaine has this thing. This problem. It doesn't make sense, since she raised me almost entirely solo and I turned out, I have to say, pretty damn spectacular."

  "Now I get to tell my mom you curse."

  "Damn straight I curse. It's part of my being spectacular. But even though Elaine did a spectacular job raising me, she still has this thing, like I was saying. And her thing is that a woman needs a man. I could dress it up a little, but that's the essence. A man to mow my lawn and escort me to parties and buy me pretty things and generally complete me in a whole rom-com way. And it's old-fashioned and it's wrong and it doesn't even make sense given our lives, but it's still what she thinks must be my goal, even if I never advertise it. So I don't know what kind of plan or situation or whatever you were told about me--I'm not sure I want to know--but I am not looking for a new pilot to take care of me, okay?"

  "Okay."

  "I mean it."

  "Right. Yes, okay." The humoring tone was gone. Good thing his opinion of her didn't matter, because Natalie had let every shred of polite professional fall right off during her tirade. Clearly she and Elaine needed to have another conversation about independence.

  She nudged the empty basket back into her closet and put a stack of shirts in the drawer. "So, that's me. I don't know if your parents need to hear all that. I doubt you needed to hear all that. But you were misled about me, and now we're clear, right?"

  "Right."

  "So we won't be going out."

  "Right." Damn him, he sounded like he was holding back one of those ringing laughs of his.

  "And look, I'll talk to my mom. She doesn't need to be adding pressure in this situation. I'll make sure she backs off on the idea of us becoming a couple."

  Evan cleared his throat. "Sure. Good idea. I'll do the same with mine. For the record, I wasn't going to tell them I was asking you out."

  Ouch, again. This guy was ridiculously bad for Natalie's ego. She'd almost forgotten the whole thing about him not wanting to date her. "Well, you can, if you want."

  "No. I won't. That was part of what I was going to tell you, back before I foolishly told you you could say no."

  "My choice to refuse doesn't require your permission, Evan."

  "Of course it doesn't," he said, the chimes back in his tone. "I wanted to explain. First of all, I would like to meet you. You were super to my parents in Turkey, and helped make their anniversary special. I'd like to buy you a coffee and thank you. From all of us--my siblings and me, I mean. We appreciated it. And I'd like to pick your brain about Houston a little. But, like I said, I'm, well, I'm not on the market, either, as you put it. Unless the market is just dating. Dating, I do. Relationships, not so much. I move around a lot, and work a ton of hours, and I like it. I like how I've set up my life. Being in a couple would screw with my situation in all kinds of ways."

  "Okay." The word was beginning to sound stupid, no matter which of them said it. Natalie walked to her balcony, looked down on the fountain in her back yard. Dusk was settling in across the treetops, and the glare of the day had faded from her brick walkways. It was peaceful, despite the omnipresent heat. She admonished herself. Evan hadn't done anything rotten enough to deserve a riot act that was really aimed at Elaine. Forcing a smile so her tone would friendly up, she said, "I'd love to grab a coffee sometime. Now we know how we each look and sound, we should see how we each move."

  She didn't intend to sound suggestive. She didn't try to rip the words back, though, because long experience with sales and marketing had taught her rephrasing only highlighted a gaffe.

  Evan cleared his throat again. "Right. Sure. Coffee."

  "Coffee." She put her businesslike efficiency to work. "I'm free tomorrow at ten, or Tuesday or Wednesday next week in the afternoons. Any of those suit you?"

  "I suppose. Hang on." His long exhalation was more of a sigh this time, which spared her eardrum. "Tomorrow, sure. Can you meet me downtown, or should I come to you?"

  "You're on the Metrorail line, right? Take it to the stop at Bell, there's a place called Black Gold Coffee. They have superb espressos and all the flavor shots in existence. I'll see you there."

  "Ten?"

  Natalie was decisive, and made it clear the conversation was over. "Ten."

  If that didn't put Evan Lee in his place, she didn't know what would.

  So she got to Black Gold right on time, planning to have coffee, drop some local knowledge Evan's way, and get out before their parents turned it into some sort of date with destiny moment. She sold houses across the city, so whatever his questions, she would dispense with them. Natalie knew every market in Houston's Inner Loop, from the multi-million dollar mansions in River Oaks to the new construction bungalows in Norhill.

  But since he couldn't be bothered to realize the woman ten inches from his shoulder was the same one in the Turkish vacation photos, she changed her plan. She still wanted the coffee. Black Gold had divine coffee, and Natalie was due at a tricky closing in an hour. She wasn't leaving without her macchiato freddo. She was leaving without introducing herself to Evan.

  She slipped her phone out of her handbag and started answering email, determined to not look up the next time Evan Lee failed to notice her standing there.

  Chapter Two

  Evan walked into Black Gold a couple of minutes before ten, feeling more lamb to the slaughter than man on a mission. He touched the center of his half-Windsor, ensuring the knot lay neatly, and scanned the crowd. It ought to be easy to spot Natalie's bushy mass of hair, despite the crowd. It smelled like coffee heaven. Or just plain heaven, presuming heaven smelled like fresh-ground coffee, and why wouldn't it? The menu board was a wonderland, and he gave himself up to it. She'd seen photos of him--Evan owed his parents a little chat about that--and could phone if she didn't spot him when she showed up.

  The thought made him smile a little. She'd done a real number on him the day before. He'd been caught off guard by her humor and how quickly and easily she sparred with him. Until he went and flipped one of her triggers, leaving him scatter-shot with her mommy issues. She was quick to pull herself back together, and he'd been the one to bring it up. So if he suffered a little collateral damage, it was o
nly fair. And Evan figured it was wise of him to take her firm refusal and stay clear of Natalie's land mines, even though it meant leaving his friend Luke without a wingman.

  Back in their analyst days, he and Luke were too buried with work to hang much, but they exchanged commiserating looks over the files stacked on their desks, and brought each other coffee refills. Now they'd both moved up the ladder, Evan had been pleased to find Luke down the hall at his new job.

  He took Evan to lunch his first week; Evan already relished the range of cuisines available in downtown Houston. They were eating Korean barbecue and swapping tidbits about a potential oil and gas merger in Argentina when Luke asked if he was seeing anyone.

  "I've only lived here four days."

  "You didn't leave someone back in Tampa?"

  Evan stretched his arms wide. "Free and easy, that's me. Why?"

  "Oh, it's nothing. Well, it is, but it's convoluted and doesn't apply. I'll keep looking." Luke was too pale to hide his embarrassment.

  "Come on, what is it? Let's see if I can help."

  He shook his head, looking more dejected than resigned. "My sister set me up with a friend of hers. Blind date. I'm not--well, I get flustered. Especially when I don't know the woman. So I like to double date when it's my first date, it just, you know, makes things go more smoothly. I'm kind of crap at dating. Obviously."

  Well, hell. Evan didn't want to leave the guy in the lurch, not when he was the main contact he had in Houston and they'd always gotten along. "I'm sure you're not as bad as you think. Everyone has those feelings."