by Lyz Kelley
Courtney raced up the five flights of stairs with a spring in her step. At the top of the landing she unlocked the door to her private apartment and then maneuvered around the queen-sized bed to open the top drawer of her dresser. She got out the peach and steel gray bra and matching thong and held them up to the light. The soft silk snuggled against her hands liked she hoped Weston's lips would caress her mouth.
“Are you ready for this?” She studied her reflection in the mirror.
A silent “yeessss!” came screaming back.
Chapter 13
“Hey, Joe,” Courtney added a heap of friendly hopefulness to her tone. “I’m here to see Weston…er…Mr. Carver.”
Joe moved to the center of the door, his arms falling to his sides and blocking her way. “He isn’t home, Ms. Kramer.”
“Oh. I see.” She pointed up the street. “I went to his office and he’s not there either.” She slumped down on the ornate bench bolted to the sidewalk, removed a plastic container from her backpack, and extended her arm. “Would you like a cookie?”
“No thank you.” She understood his seeming indifference, but hoped to change it.
Joe was doing his job, and Weston deserved loyalty from the people surrounding him. She selected a cookie from the container and took a bite, brushing the crumbs off her lap. The dark chocolate, buttery sweetness did little to reduce her disappointment. She positioned her foot in the path of a crawling ant and watched while it navigated around the toe of her shoe.
“Have you tried calling his cell?” Joe asked.
The offer startled her out of her spiraling dejection. “No. I called his office number and left a message. When he didn’t call back, I stopped by. Security said he wasn’t in, and they wouldn’t allow me to take the elevators to his office without a pass. I was only a few blocks away.” She shrugged. “I hoped he’d be here. Plus, I don’t have his cell number.” She glanced at Joe. “Don’t mind me, I’m whining.” She brushed more crumbs off her favorite black dress.
“Not to worry, Ms. Kramer.”
She kicked off her left high-heel shoe to test the new blister on her big toe. Figures. By the time she walked the four blocks back to the metro station the blister would burst. She eased her swollen foot back into the red stiletto meant to impress and pulled her knees together. “I guess I should be going.” She snapped the container lid into the plastic base.
“Might I suggest you try Mr. Carver’s personal number?” Joe stared at her, his intent look saying far more than his simple suggestion. “It’s the same as his office number with the last four digits reversed.”
Her heart pumped with hope. “I hope you won’t get in trouble for telling me that bit of information.”
“In this case I think Mr. Carver will forgive my indiscretion,” he winked.
“If you’re sure.” She pulled out her phone and Weston’s business card and then waited for a signal from Joe. With his nod of approval, she dialed the number. Weston picked up on the second ring.
“Courtney, is everything okay?”
He put me in his contact list! Joy bounced and zinged and whirled through her. “Yes. I’m fine.” Actually, no, she wasn’t, but she didn’t need to bother him with those little details. “I was wondering if we…” she glanced at Joe. His gave her a nod and a half grin, and his hand made a keep going motion.
“…I was wondering if you would have dinner with me sometime…or lunch…or maybe a quick coffee?” She rubbed a sweaty palm down the fabric covering her upper thigh. As long as there was time to explain her unfortunate reaction when he said he wanted to kiss her, she’d take whatever small moment he’d spare.
“You said sometime. You mean like a week from now? Or a couple of months?”
She bit her lip and turned away from Joe to avoid letting him hear her response. “Well, no. I was hoping for sooner rather than later.”
A car honked and someone shouted in the background, and she pressed the phone to her ear so she wouldn’t miss hearing his response, but could only make out the sound of a car door slam.
The phone signal cut out, and she heard a dead silence on the other end. “I see,” came the delayed response.
Relief weakened every muscle. She closed her eyes, soaking up his ultra-sexy voice. She didn’t move or breathe, waiting for his decision.
“Scheduling dinner at a later time would be such a waste since you’re already wearing your red patent leather pumps and little black dress.” She heard the humor in his tone.
“Yes, it would be…” Wait a minute.
She twisted to look down the block. When she turned around again, there he was, walking her way, looking more gorgeous than ever in his gray striped suit, white shirt, and lavender tie.
“Um, hi.” She ended the call and held out the cookie container as he moved closer. “Would you like a cookie?”
“I’ll take whatever you’re offering, Ms. Kramer. I’m hungry...just not for cookies.”
His expression conveyed a lot more than what he just said. He would melt her chocolate, and everything else he touched.
She shoved the plastic container on the bench next to her backpack. “About the other day.”
“My position hasn’t changed, Courtney. You need to understand that.” His eyes radiated an intensity she hadn’t seen before. They spoke of a man’s needs and desires. He wanted her, but only on her terms. But once he’d met her terms, he’d take control and send her straight into orbit. He took a step closer. “You were saying?”
“Do you think we could forget for a moment that you’re my boss, or that I asked you to buy a building for me? Maybe we’re just two random strangers who bumped into each other on a busy street like this one.”
“And when we met, you offered me a cookie.”
A shaky laugh escaped.
The cookie idea was lame, but so were the half-dozen other things she thought of to help ease the uncomfortable apology.
“Yes,” a tingle started at her toes and rushed all the way to her head. “And then I told you how handsome you look in that suit.”
He sat on the bench and drew her down beside him. “And I told you how much I like your smile, and your bright red shoes.” He reached to brush aside the hair on her forehead. “And how stunning your eyes are when you’re nervous.”
She laughed and her heart soared. “Oh, boy. I definitely am nervous.”
“Me too.” His mouth straightened into a serious line.
She playfully nudged his leg with hers. “You are not.”
He shook his head and joined her in laughter. “No, I’m not. I’ve been waiting for someone like you to come along for a very long time.”
She didn’t want to break the moment to ask what he meant, because the answer might scare her.
“Weston,” She searched his eyes. “Why did you want to kiss me?”
He set the cookie container on his other side and moved closer. “There are several reasons.”
“Like?” Her brow lifted.
“I like that there’s no need to be anything other than myself with you. I want to make you laugh. As soon as you smile, all the daily challenges I’ve faced fade away. I like the way you think. I like—”
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Enough.”
He touched her leg and looked into her eyes. “Then again, you’re like my Wi-Fi, because I feel connected.” He bounced his eyebrows with a wicked grin.
“Oh. My. God.” She brushed his hand off her lap. “That has to be the worst line ever.”
He gripped her leg above the kneecap and pressed hard enough to tickle. “C’mon, you liked it. I have another line for you.”
“I don’t know if I can take another one.”
He leaned closer and the hot air as he spoke delighted her skin. “Call 911, because you take my breath away.”
Laughter rolled up from her stomach and burst out. She let the emotion sweep through her while tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. “I’m not sure which line was worse.”
<
br /> “My high school buddies and I used to sit in class making lists of pickup lines. I gave you the best ones. The rest go downhill from there.”
“Tell me another.”
He brushed her bangs aside, “I’ll write some of them down for you, or use one the next time I want to kiss you. A line might work better.”
“You don’t have to use a line,” she murmured while heat swept up her neck to her face. She watched the ant next to her foot run in circles and then glanced at Joe, who was doing his best not to eavesdrop. “So what do we do now?”
“With that dress? We definitely need to go out for dinner. I’m not sure you’d feel safe in my apartment.” The way he looked at her caused all sorts of body parts to tingle and crave his manly touch.
“We can go out, or stay in. Either way, I know I’ll be safe with you.” She fibbed a little. She’d be physically safe...but what about emotionally? The minute her heart opened he’d barged right in, and there was little to prevent him from breaking it. “However, us being together might complicate our relationship.”
“I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”
“I want to explain my reaction when you asked to kiss me.”
Weston glanced at Joe and then shook his head. “Later.” He picked up her hand and rubbed his thumb across her skin. “How about my favorite little restaurant down by the waterfront. Are you hungry?”
She intertwined her fingers with his, and with her other hand ran her finger down the cleft in his chin, then touched the creases at the corner of his eye. “I am, but we don’t have to go for dinner. I was using food as an excuse to apologize. I didn’t want to explain over the phone. You deserve more from me.” She let her hand drop to his chest. “You look tired, and I’m sure your day was packed with meetings and stuff. As long as you can forgive the way I reacted when you asked to kiss me, we can schedule dinner another time.”
“Don’t you want to spend time with me, Courtney?”
“I do. It’s just…”
Her gaze focused on the old men shuffling down the sidewalk, then the pigeons squabbling over a stray piece of trash, then the couple walking side by side, sharing a bunch of grapes. She sucked in her bottom lip and bit down until his chuckle made her turn back to see what was so funny.
He brushed the edge of her lip with his thumb. “Still afraid of men with large bank accounts, Courtney?” his question conveyed warm compassion, a kindness she couldn’t stand to hear or feel. She hated having sympathy directed her way. It made her shrivel. He hadn’t caused her insecurities. Others had. And that wasn’t fair to her, or to him.
“You could have stopped at the ‘afraid of men,’ part,” she picked a stray hair off Weston’s jacket and let it float away in the breeze.
He tugged her hand in his direction. “Have dinner with me. Get to know me.”
“Okay.” Damn. My voice is shaking. She cleared her throat. “I’d love to have dinner with you, but—”
His shrieking whistle cut off her excuse.
“What are you doing?”
“Arranging for us to enjoy this opportunity to get better acquainted.”
A black sedan pulled to the curb. A man she recognized, this time wearing jeans and a T-shirt, got out of the driver’s side and walked around the car.
“Courtney, you may remember Mike, Haley’s husband.” Weston stood and moved toward the curb.
Courtney stretched out a hand. “Mike. Nice to see you again.”
“Ms. Kramer.”
“Mike, there’s been a change of plans.” Weston waited by the door Mike had opened. “Ms. Kramer and I would like some dinner. Courtney, is the café I mentioned okay, or would you like a specific cuisine this evening?”
“Anything quiet where we can talk would be nice.”
“The River Café it is.”
She gasped. The five-star restaurant on Water Street offered amazing views of the Brooklyn Bridge, or so she’d read in the local foodie magazine. The elegant American cuisine restaurant was out of budget range, but the pictures from the reviews made her fantasize about both the food and the intimate ambiance. A table for two. A nice bottle of wine. A great conversation with a gorgeous man.
Thank goodness she’d checked her credit card balance that morning, because she would insist on paying her fair share. “Sounds great.”
“After you.” Weston gestured for her to get in the car.
“Would you mind waiting just one minute? I have something important to do.”
Weston tilted his head to the side. “Sure.”
She trotted back toward the apartment and up the steps. “Joe,” she touched his arm. “Thank you for encouraging me to make that call. I appreciate the help.”
The flustered doorman stood taller, his shoulders back, chin up. “All in a day’s work, Ms. Kramer.”
Somehow she doubted it, but didn’t want to push or embarrass the man. “You sure you don’t want a cookie?”
He laughed and rubbed his slim belly. “I’m trying to keep the pounds off, but thanks anyway.”
“You’re a good man, Joe.”
“I’ll remind my teenage daughter of that the next time she calls me a schmuck.”
Joy bloomed in her heart and skipped to her fingers and toes. She glanced over her shoulder. “Mr. Carver is waiting. I’d better go.”
“Have a nice evening, Ms. Kramer.”
She hurried back to the car.
“I’ve never seen Joe so flustered. What did you say to the poor man?” Weston looked past her shoulder, then back at her as he held the car door for her.
“I offered him the rest of my cookies,” she shrugged before lowering into the back of the sleek car.
“Let me guess.” Weston joined her as she slid across the black leather seats. “He refused, saying something about watching his weight.”
She shifted closer to him. “How did you know?” she asked in a low voice to avoid the sound carrying.
“After his wife died two years ago, he packed on the pounds and was diagnosed with diabetes. Mike challenged him to run the New York marathon next year. Isn’t that right, Nobel?”
Mike glanced in the rearview mirror. “It was a stupid idea. Now Joe kicks my ass out of bed at five a.m. every day to run. Serves me right for opening my big mouth.” Mike grumbled and pulled away from the curb.
Weston held her hand.
Family. Mike and Joe were like family. Like the women in her shelter were hers. Weston cared about each and every one of the people in his life—another thing they both had in common.
How did she ever get lucky enough to meet a guy like Weston Carver?
And when was the clock going to strike twelve and turn her carriage into a pumpkin?
Chapter 14
Weston wasn’t sure what he struggled with more, Courtney talking him into taking her to dinner, or him blowing off a client he’d been trying to meet with for three weeks to be with her.
Then again, he couldn’t remember a more enjoyable meal. Not that he recalled what he ate, but he remembered every word she said. “Would you like some dessert?”
She rested her hand on her stomach, “I shouldn’t. I can’t remember when I’ve eaten so much.”
“You should.” He raised a hand to signal the waiter. “Life’s too short not to indulge once in a while.” The thirtysomething waiter arrived at Weston’s elbow. “An espresso for me. Tea?” He pointed and waited for her nod. “Tea for the lady. Plus a dessert sampler.”
He loved the sparkle of joy in her eye. “My sister insists it’s only half the calories if we share.”
Her mouth curled into a carefree smile that extended across her face. He liked how she was present, with him, not thinking about anything else. And that was why he’d give her everything she wanted.
He wanted the evidence of sheer joy to stay nestled in her laugh lines forever.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, her hand inching toward his.
You. “How lovely you l
ook under the stars. Tonight reminds me of the first time I saw you.”
“Oh,” she leaned back appalled. “I was a mess that day. I hadn’t taken a shower and was covered with dirt from gardening. I don’t know what I was doing running after you. I’m still embarrassed about it.”
An explosion of deep pink brushed her cheeks, reminding him of the dress she wore at the formal event last year.
“I’m not talking about when we met at the shelter.” He waited while the waiter set the desserts and coffee on the table and held the tea box open for Courtney to make her selection. She chose his favorite, a vanilla black tea, and then picked up a spoon, uncertain whether to try the pineapple soufflé, chocolate decadent, or pomegranate sorbet first.
Then she paused and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. “Wait, a minute. If you’re not talking about the shelter, what are you talking about?”
He took a sip of his espresso, letting the dark bitterness warm his core and tingle his senses. “The first time I saw you, you were at the Rainbow Room, standing near the windows, the New York skyline behind you. You were stunning.”
The glorious woman he’d seen standing across the room but he hadn’t met. He didn’t even know her name until her face appeared on his desk, one of three candidates recommended to replace EH’s managing director.
“The Rainbow Room?” Her face muscles slackened, then lifted in a soft smile. “I’ve only been there once, to attend a Wish Gala. I was granting the wish for a little girl who used to live in my shelter.”
“You wore a red gown with your hair held back by a crystal tiara. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I watched while you unpinned your headpiece and gave the sparkling headband to a little girl.”
“Mmmm. Yes. She asked if I was a princess. Her name was Jasmine. She was in the middle of her chemo treatments and had lost all her hair. Her mother told me she wanted to be Elsa from Frozen. She was so sweet.” Her eyes met his. “Funny. I don’t remember meeting you that night.”
“We didn’t meet. I was there with my father and members of the New York General Hospital. My dad serves on the board.”