by Gina Ardito
Gianna’s focus flipped to Kyle who stood near the oven, a charming smile softening his features. For all his antics to the contrary, he obviously had a weakness for children. Then again, maybe only pretty girls managed to break through his cool façade. Like every other man she knew, did Kyle only warm up to an angelic face and adoring eyes beneath fluttering lashes?
Well, one thing was certain. Unlike every other man she knew, Kyle packed a kiss that made her knees turn to warm gelatin. A kiss that still burned her mouth hours afterward. Okay, so she hadn’t kissed every man she knew, but of the men she had kissed, none of them—
“Mommy, is Kyle coming, too?”
Crystal’s insistent whine broke Gianna’s musings and cooled her burning lips more efficiently than lip balm with aloe.
“I don’t see how he can, sweetheart,” Mrs. Melendez replied. “He works here.”
In direct imitation of her mother, Crystal folded her arms over her chest. “So does Gianna, but she’s coming.”
“Yes, but, Gianna was helping out while her mom and dad were away. This is Kyle’s job, sweetie. He’s a pizza man. He can’t leave for the day because you wish him to play with you.”
Mrs. Melendez’s description of Kyle as a “pizza man” struck a tremendous blow to his pride. Gianna saw him wince and hurried to ease the unintentional insult. “Actually, Kyle’s only working here to help out as well. He’s really a stockbroker in Manhattan.”
“Oh, yeah?” Piqued interest radiated from Bethany’s black-rimmed eyes. “Stockbrokers make a truckload of money, don’t they? Why would you give that up to work here?”
“Because I needed him,” Gianna said firmly. “And he was nice enough to come through for me in a pinch.”
“Sweet.” Cat smile returning, Bethany folded her arms behind her head. “See what I mean? He’s perfect for you, Gi.”
Oh, no. She was not about to traipse down that path again! “What makes you think any man is perfect for me?”
“You like girls?”
“Um...” Mrs. Melendez hastily gathered her children. “I think we’ll be going now. Thank you so much for your help, Gianna. I’ll call you as soon as I hear something.”
“Bye-bye, Kyle,” Crystal shouted as her mother pulled her out the door. “See you soon! Don’t forget your promise.”
While the family headed out, Gianna spotted Kyle studying his shoes. Poor guy apparently suffered the same discomfort she felt. Hoping to break the tension, she cleared her throat.
Her ploy must have worked since he leaned close enough to whisper, “Thanks for coming to my defense.” His hot breath filled her ear, invoking memories of when he’d kissed her.
Her lips tingled, and she clamped her teeth to stop from swooping in for a landing. The heat of his eyes trapped her as neatly as a fly caught in a spider’s web. Without thinking, she stepped forward, one finger stretched toward the cleft in his chin. She burned to touch his jaw line, to feel the rough texture of his skin against her cheek, to fold into his embrace and let the tension recede from her bones in one long flood…
“Yup,” Bethany interjected. “A match made in heaven.”
Chapter Ten
On Friday, Kyle’s plan to sleep until noon disintegrated when, at ten, the telephone seared his consciousness. Initially, he thought to ignore the incessant ringing. With this, his first day off since he began working at Villa Mare, he intended to loll around all day. After ten rings, blissful silence reigned for thirty seconds, and he burrowed under the blankets. Then the noise began again. Muttering about the rudeness of suburbanites, he tossed aside the blankets and padded into the kitchen, nearly yanking the phone off the wall.
“What?” he barked into the receiver.
“Kyle?” A male voice, low and urgent.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me. Rory.”
Sleep still clouded his brain, and Kyle came awake slowly. Rory? Oh, right. Rory, the accountant with an agenda.
“You okay?” Rory asked.
Senses tingled to life. “Of course, I’m all right. Why?”
“You have a television where you are now?”
The tingle grew into pins and needles across his skin. “Rory, what the—”
“Turn on NNC, if you get it out there,” Rory demanded.
“Hold on a sec.” Fully awake now, he placed the receiver on the countertop and strode into the living room. Picking up the remote control, he switched on the television and flipped around for a moment until he found the National News Channel.
A familiar face filled the thirteen-inch screen. He recognized her immediately. From her perfectly-coifed hair to the creamy pearls around her alabaster throat to the stupid Yorkie, Chaucer, posed on her lap in a matching red-plaid vest and bow tie. Some things never changed.
Adding to his surprise, an inset in the lower corner of the screen held a snapshot of him taken six months ago at a dinner party at the Legacy Club. Now, standing in this shabby room in an apartment the size of the club’s men’s room, he cringed at the arrogance the half-smirk on his face displayed. God, had he ever really looked so smug, so self-possessed? Forcing his eyes away from the unflattering photograph, he listened to the well-known voice filling the living room with liquid charm.
“…missing now for over a month,” Colette said into the camera, “and my family is desperately worried about him. We want to be certain he’s all right…”
“Son of a—” Heart thudding in triple time, Kyle raced into the kitchen again and fumbled for the receiver. “Why is my sister speaking to the press?”
“She’s looking for you.”
Gee, no kidding. “I can see that. But why?” His legs shook so badly, he had to sit. But he wanted to hear what else his sister might reveal. Extending one bare foot, he pulled a chair near. Now he could still see the television while anchored to the phone.
“…he couldn’t bear the shame of filing for bankruptcy…” Her words slithered into the kitchen, and the blood froze in his veins. As she dangled his closet skeletons before whirring cameras on national television, the realization of how this would affect his future crept into his mind like fog on a Louisiana bayou at midnight.
“Jeez, Rory, couldn’t you stop her?” No answer, which only confirmed the suspicions bouncing around Kyle’s head. “You set this up, didn’t you? You and David. You couldn’t stand the fact I was winning. You convinced Colette to go public so I’d have no choice but to back down and return home with my tail tucked between my legs. How low can you get?”
“That’s not true, Kyle.” Rory’s speech pattern grew staccato. “David and I didn’t know Colette was planning this. I swear. You have to believe me.”
“Terrific.” He scrubbed a hand over his unshaven cheek. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“You want to call off the bet?”
“You did set this up!” The shouted accusation made his head throb, and he softened his tone to a fatal hush. “By God, you’ll do anything for Aurora. I should have known—”
“To hell with Aurora, Kyle! Let’s just call this whole thing off. Get your ass back here before the situation gets any worse.”
His sister’s cultured, precise words beckoned from the living room, pouring salt into his open wounds. “Kyle, if you can hear me, please return to the loving arms of your family. We’ll work it out, I promise…”
Loving arms, ha! Where were those loving arms when he first told her about his misfortune? As he recalled, Colette had sniffed in disdain, told him she hoped he didn’t expect her to bail him out, and then slammed her mahogany door in his face as if he were already the homeless man he soon became. Now, she showed up on the twenty-four hour news channel, begging him to return to her loving arms? What audacity!
“This performance just might net her an Academy Award.”
“Look, Kyle, she may be acting, but she’s right. Give up and come home. David and I proved our point. We’ll confess the whole thing to everyone, have a big laugh, and go back t
o the way things were before this mess ever started.”
“You and David proved your point?” Unable to believe his ears, he shook his head with the ferocity of a wet dog. Just when he’d adjusted to God’s great practical joke, he awakened to a new nightmare. Hadn’t he been punished enough for his stupidity? Would his private hell never end?
“You’re taking my words out of context—”
“And you seem to be taking lessons from David now. Quit practicing for the bar exam, and think about this.” Panic gripped his gut and twisted. “We’re not in prep school anymore, for God’s sake. Do you think those stuffed shirts in the Legacy Club will take kindly to what we did? Especially when they realize the public might learn they threw me out on my butt the moment I told them about my bankruptcy? Their motto of With malice toward none, with charity for all would take a tremendous beating underneath the media spotlight. Do you think they’ll suddenly welcome me with open arms because I’m not as broke as they thought?”
“Dammit, Kyle, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry, okay? None of us expected this.”
He ran his fingernails through his hair, tingling his brain into mega-thought-mode. “Whether we expected her to pull this maneuver or not, we have to do some major damage control. Privately. And right now.”
“So, what? What do you want me to do?”
Ideas whirled at lightning speed, like a strobe light inside his brain. Most of his thoughts, however, were destructive and useless. Finally, he stood and, as if the change in stance shifted something loose, his logical side grasped the obvious. “Call Colette, tell her you’ve heard from me, and I’m all right. Tell her to stop talking to the goddamn press!”
“O-okay.” Rory’s shaky breath whistled through the receiver. “Are we going to call off the wager then? Are you coming home?”
“Hell, no. A deal’s a deal. I’m gonna do my time.” Before Rory could continue the argument, Kyle slammed the phone on the receiver and returned to the living room. With a trembling hand, he raked his hair, and his knees buckled when they hit the couch. He sank into the lumpy cushion and stared at the television screen until the image of his sister softened and blurred into a mélange of colors.
Thanks to the high-pitched buzz in his ears, he didn’t hear another word of her interview. Only the ringing of the damn phone broke through his subconscious. Once again, he forced himself up and into the kitchen to pick up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Kyle? It’s me, Gianna. Did I wake you?”
“No.” This could prove to be a long day. He sank into the kitchen chair.
Her long exhale whooshed through the receiver. “Good. I have wonderful news. Your sister is looking for you. I saw her on TV this morning. She wants you to go home. All you have to do is call her, and she’ll come get you.” If this was such wonderful news, why did Gianna sound like she’d announced the death of a loved one?
“I’ve already called to tell her I’m fine,” he lied.
“You have? So I guess you’ll be leaving us.”
Poor Gianna. She couldn’t hide her feelings, even when she tried. Everything reflected in her voice, her soft eyes, her sweet lips... “No,” he said to stop the images.
“No? I don’t understand—”
“There’s nothing to understand. Colette and I have never been close.” Just the thought of his sister made his fingers curl into a tight fist. “And we’re certainly not going to become close now.”
“Oh, Kyle, all families fight,” she exclaimed. “My parents and I have had some real beauties in the past. Trust me.”
“Really?” Hard to imagine her parents faced any more difficult task than protecting Gianna from her own naïveté. “What nefarious activities did you get into in your sordid past?”
“Never mind.”
He could hear her indulgent smile framing the words, belying any frustration.
“The point is, when push comes to shove, your family will always stand by you, no matter what.”
Yeah, right. “Maybe your family’s always been supportive, Gianna, but when I needed help, my sister turned her back on me.”
“Well, she obviously wants to make amends now.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” In his opinion, Colette’s gesture was way too little, way too late.
“Reconciliation is always possible,” she retorted. “She’s your sister, for heaven’s sake.”
“She ceased to be my sister when she slammed her front door in my face a month ago.” The memory still left a bitter taste, and he smacked his lips to dispel the acid. “I owe her nothing. All I have at this moment, I owe to one person and one person only. You took me in. You gave me a place to stay and a job. You stood by me. And now, I owe you something in return.”
“No, really. You don’t owe me anything.”
Lord, he could almost hear the blush rising in her cheeks. “Yes, I do. I promised to be your date for the wedding next week. Remember?”
“Oh. Right. The wedding…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, and then returned with forced cheer. “Listen, just think about what I said about the importance of family, all right? You should go home. You belong there.”
“Right now, I belong here.” Not that she could see him, but he stood, pointing to the floor, confirming his resolve.
“Well, right now, I have my own family to deal with. My parents’ plane lands in about two hours and I’m picking them up at the airport. Enjoy your day off, and I’ll see you at the restaurant tomorrow at eleven.”
Enjoy his day off? Impossible. His sister’s stupidity had blown the day to bits. The moment he said goodbye to Gianna and placed the phone on the hook, the ringing began again. Jeez, he hadn’t had this many telephone calls since Black Thursday hit Hong Kong back in 1997. “Hello?”
“Kyle? I hope I didn’t wake you. Do you know who this is?”
The name struck his brain with laser precision. Hayley. Good God, even Hayley saw his sister’s public appeal? Didn’t anyone listen to the radio in the morning? Then again, with his luck, Colette probably purchased airtime on every station on both the AM and FM dials.
“You didn’t wake me. I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.”
She giggled a little too hard. “I’m sorry. I should have realized—”
“What do you want, Hayley?” The last thing he wanted was another lecture on the importance of family. And from of all people, definitely not Hayley. Since she knew so little about him, what could she say?
“Sorry,” she repeated. “Um, well, um, I just thought since the restaurant was closed today, and Gianna would be spending the day with her family, um…”
Spit it out already! He rolled his eyes toward the fluorescent lights in the ceiling.
As if she’d heard his unspoken demand, she blurted, “Would you like to have lunch with me today?”
“Lunch?”
“My treat,” she added hastily. “I’ll show you photos of houses available in the area, you’ll say they’re not what you’re looking for, and I’ll write the afternoon off as a business expense. This isn’t a date, just two people using a timely opportunity to get better acquainted. Okay?”
“O-kay,” he drawled, his mind scrambling to figure out an explanation.
“I mean it, Kyle. I’ve got no hidden agenda. Gianna’s my best friend and I—”
“And you always ask your best friend’s employees to lunch, right?”
“You know what?” Solid steel laced her words. “Forget it. Forget I called. Go back to sleep. Enjoy your day off.”
He laughed. Who knew he could push her buttons so easily? “Oh, no you don’t. You made the offer. I’m accepting.” Why not? If he stayed inside these walls with the phone ringing every thirty seconds, he’d go insane. Even spending the afternoon with Hayley held more appeal than sitting here trying to figure out how to dig out of the muck Colette’s little performance had poured on him.
“Well,” she grumbled, “if you’re going to be a butthead, for
get I offered you anything.”
A butthead? No one had ever called him that before. At least, not to his face. Oddly, he didn’t take offense. Hard to argue with the truth. He was acting like a butthead. “I’m sorry, Hayley. I woke up to a crazy morning, and I took it out on you. Lunch would be great. Thanks for the offer.”
“That’s better,” she said. “And you’re welcome. I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty. We’ll go to the Inn on the Sound. They’ve got great food and even better water views. Okay?”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Shaking his head, he hung up. Never in his wildest dreams could he have predicted he’d have a lunch date with Hayley Jeffords. What in God’s name did she want from him?
Chapter Eleven
“I saw your sister on the news this morning.”
Wow. The waiter had barely left the table after taking their orders when Hayley moved in for the kill.
“No warm-up question or introduction of the contestants? We go straight to the lightning round?” he retorted. “Let’s get to the goods then. You want to know about my sister and me?”
“No.” She sipped her cosmo. “Not particularly.”
His jaw dropped. “You don’t?”
“Kyle, I haven’t spoken to my mother in three years. Do you care?”
“No,” he parroted, right down to sipping his vodka martini. “Not particularly.”
She smiled. “Me, neither. I only care about Gianna. I want to know what’s going on between you two.”
The waiter appeared and placed a basket of warm rolls in the center of the table. The yeasty smell floated straight through Kyle’s nostrils and into his empty stomach, eliciting a loud, rude rumble.
After one sharp look in his direction, Hayley thanked the waiter, paused until he was out of earshot, and then spoke in a hushed tone. “More importantly, I want to know about the whole bit with Bergdorf’s and the Spalon de Soleil.”
Uh-oh. He forced a confused expression. “What would I know about Bergdorf’s and some spa?”
“Don’t play innocent.” She tipped her martini glass toward him. “You’re not that good an actor. I know you had something to do with the sweepstakes. I want to know why.”