What if I'm making a mistake? For all I know, he's a serial killer. What if he's a player? What am I doing here? Laila gazed out the hotel room window, as she tried to rationalize her recent actions. She wrung her hands, before glancing at her watch. "I have ten minutes until I need to leave this room."

She turned and stood before the closet's full-length mirror and inspected her reflection. Instinctively, she smoothed the front of the mid-thigh black dress. I wonder if this dress is right. I don't want to wear anything sexier. He might get the wrong idea.

"Pull yourself together. You have less than ten minutes," she mumbled, adjusting the single strand of pearls around her neck. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she recalled the painful memories of Mark, her college sweetheart. We were going to get married after graduation. Then I caught him in bed with Linda. How could he sleep with her? The bastard! The pain of catching them together plagued me for over a year. Then I started communicating with Jacob. He made me feel it was safe to fall in love again.

She slumped onto the bed as memories invaded her consciousness. "What did I ever see in Mark? Maybe Jacob's just like him. I could be making the biggest mistake of my life. I'm meeting a man eleven years older than me." She glanced at the small watch face. "What if he's a rapist? I met him on-line."

She chewed on her lower lip and paced the floor. I need to decide in less than five minutes if I'm going to walk out that door and meet a man I've fallen in love with over the Internet. She snatched her room key from beside the telephone and dropped it into her clutch.

Please God, help me through tonight. I'm not sure that I'm doing the right thing. The short prayer had the desired effect. Her breathing became less shallow.

The vibration of the cell phone caused her to twitch in surprise. She decided to let the voicemail take the call. Unable to quash her curiosity, she retrieved it, and stared at the display. "It's not Jacob. He called at least every morning and evening for five months, but do I really know him?"

She threw the phone in her purse and clutched a pillow in a desperate attempt to calm her racing pulse. He avoided answering a question, which only increased my frustration. 'Damn it, I'm falling in love with you. Would you answer the stupid question?'

She winced as she recalled her frustrated yell and his laughing response, 'Kitten, I love you, too.'

Why don't I believe him? Is it because of Mark? Now, Jacob's waiting downstairs in the restaurant.

She returned to the mirror and re-inspected her image. "These don't look right." She removed the pearls and laid them in the suitcase. What if I dressed all wrong? Does the V-neck go too low? I should have brought something with a higher neckline. Is my dress too short? Is this stretch satin showing too much of my curves. Will he think I'm trying to seduce him?

Her hand covered her mouth. "I've had thoughts about us making love. He's often invaded my dreams. We've flirted on the phone, but what if he thinks I'm trying to entice him?" Laila plopped on the bed. "Why did I tell him about those dreams?"

"I'm not leaving this room." Laila stomped her foot and stared at the door. "He promised if I chickened out he wouldn't search for me." She stood, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "He paid for the room and the flight. I should show up as a courtesy. At least, I owe him that."

She inspected her image again. "What if he thinks I'm ugly and wished he'd never met me? I can't lose him. I love him."

She adjusted the thin straps of her dress. He's knows I'm five-foot-six, have red hair, don't have a model's figure, just graduated from college, and haven't found a job, yet. He knows everything about me. He even knows I'm wearing a black bra because I told him my bras always match my clothes. Why did I tell him about the time my breast popped out of my purple bra while dancing?

She turned the doorknob, clutched her little black purse, and muttered, "No matter what happens tonight I'm coming back to this room, alone. I got myself into this mess. I can get myself out." With a new resolve and false determination, she closed the door.

*****
Laila shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she waited for the elevator. He said he was divorced and no children were involved. What if he's lying? What if he's married with three kids and he thinks of me as a weekend playmate? I'd better check his finger and make sure he didn't just remove a ring.

Inside the elevator, Laila repeated her calming routine. Deep breath. Check outfit in the mirror. She inspected her image. These three-inch heels are too immature. I should have worn lower ones. Jacob knows I'm only twenty-two. I've been completely honest, probably too honest. Why did I tell him about last Thursday's dream? Now he knows I'm hot for him. Maybe I should stop this elevator, turn around, pack, and leave.

As the elevator door opened, Laila froze. I can't do this. I've already made a fool of myself. I can't face this man. This is all wrong. He's a player and I'm his booty-call.

"Ma'am, are you all right?" an elderly man asked as he waited for her to exit.

"Sorry, I didn't realize the elevator had stopped." She took a deep breath and stepped through the door. I guess I'm going through with this. If I don't meet with him, I'll always wonder what might have been.

Laila hesitated at the entrance of the restaurant. He said he's a marine biologist, what if he's really an assassin for hire. I need to pull myself together! Who would want me dead? She stopped and stared at the front lobby. He's most likely just an older Mark.

The hostess coughed discreetly. "Ma'am, may I help you?"

She glanced past the hostess and scanned the dining area. "I was meeting someone, but I don't see him. I guess he hasn't arrived." She retreated from the door.

"Ma'am, if you'll tell me his name, I'll check our reservation list and see if he's been seated."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary." She turned to leave.

"It's no problem at all. It's my job. His name?"

Doubt reared its ugly head, as she whispered, "Jacob Kraft."

The hostess reviewed her long list and smiled. "Not to worry, he's arrived. You're a lucky lady. You have one of the few punctual men in the world." With a smile, she gestured. "Follow me, please."

I guess I'm really going to meet the man I foolishly poured my heart out to over the Internet and telephone. Why do I do things like that? Chewing her fingernail, she followed the smiling hostess to a secluded table.