“Good.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Good.”
There was an awkward pause as she waited for him to get to the point.
Oh! Maybe he’d talked to Miles. He would’ve called her into his office if it was bad news or maybe he would’ve waited to broach it tonight at dinner. He was smiling at her. Maybe this was his way of delivering good news.
She pushed in her computer keyboard drawer and put her hands in her lap. “Did you talk to your dad?”
Austin’s smile faltered. “No. But I did call him yesterday to set up a meeting. He’s out of town. I figured it would be best if I talked to him about this in person. Peggy is not sure how long he’ll be gone. It could be a week. It could be less. I’ll get something on the books as soon as he gets back. I’ve been meaning to ask you...how is school going?”
Felicity blinked at the non sequitur.
“Fine. I’m all set for graduation. All I have to do is pass the finals.”
He was nodding again, maintaining eye contact.
Those eyes. She could get lost in those eyes and happily never find her way back to reality.
“Felicity?”
Oh, God, had he asked her a question?
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if your family was coming in for your graduation?”
“Well, my mom lives in New Orleans. So, she’ll be there.”
“I didn’t realize your mom was local. What about your dad?”
Ugh. She should’ve seen that question coming. She should’ve headed it off before he’d had a chance to ask. She didn’t like to talk about her dad.
“No, just my mom. And Maia. You know, my friend who owns the salon.” She flipped her hair with her right hand and felt dumb for doing that. “She’s the one who did this.” She raked her hand through her hair and let it fall back into place. “For that hair show last week.”
Those eyes were still on her. She didn’t want to love it, because that’s how she got hurt. But dammit, she did.
“Have you ever been to the restaurant R’evolution?”
“Is that the one over on Bienville Street?”
“That’s the one. I made reservations for us.”
Shut the front door. What?
First, he’d made a reservation for their dinner rather than just showing up somewhere and working his magic in person—or having her make the reservation. All she had to do was call any restaurant in town and say Austin Fortune would like a table. It didn’t matter how far in advance the average person had to reserve a table, they would make room for Austin at a moment’s notice, because he was Austin Fortune.
The fact that he’d made the reservation himself... Okay, she was not going to read anything more into that than...
Than what?
R’evolution was in the French Quarter, across Canal Street and down some ways from the Roosevelt Hotel. While it was in the general area of the hotel where they were having the ball, it was still a surprise. They could have easily just grabbed tapas in the hotel’s Fountain Lounge. Or if Austin wanted to be fancy, they could’ve popped into Domenica, the Roosevelt’s Italian restaurant.
She certainly wasn’t complaining. She was too off-kilter for that.
“Is R’evolution okay?” he asked. “We can go somewhere else if you like.”
“It’s fabulous. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“It’s a date, then.”
Felicity bit the insides of her cheeks. Clearly, he had no idea what he just said. It wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting...for which he’d made a reservation for two at a fabulous restaurant. But she wasn’t going to point that out and embarrass him.
“I have a meeting,” he was saying, “but I should be ready to go by 6:30. I thought we could leave the office and go to the Roosevelt and check out the space first. We should have plenty of time to make our 7:45 reservation.”
“Oh, you were going to come back to the office?” she asked. “I’m looking after Maia’s dogs while she’s out of town this week. I need to go home and let them out. Should I meet you at the Roosevelt?”
“There’s no sense trying to park two cars downtown,” he said. “I’ll swing by and pick you up at 6:30. Does that give you enough time to take care of the animals?”
She paused, waiting for him to say, Just kidding. But it wasn’t like Austin to joke like that.
“Sure. 6:30, it is. I’ll text you my address.”
As he walked down the hall, Felicity watched him, feeling like she’d just entered the twilight zone.
Fifteen minutes later, she was jotting down questions for the rep at the Roosevelt and pondering the new dilemma—should she change clothes or wear the skirt and blouse she’d worn to work?—when her desk phone buzzed. It was Carla at the front desk.
“Hey, ’Liss, there’s someone here for Austin. Her name is Macks Cole. She says she doesn’t have an appointment, but she’d like to talk to him.”
Felicity could hear her pulse in her ears. Macks was here? Her antenna had probably pricked up, warning her that another female was encroaching on her man.
“Tell her to have a seat. I’ll be right there.”
So, this time Macks had come to Felicity’s door. Or actually, Austin’s door was probably more accurate. Felicity checked her posture and took a deep breath before she turned the corner into the reception area.
“Ms. Cole, hello. How may I help you?”
Macks pinned her with the same bemused expression she’d worn the other day when Felicity had shown up at her door. As if Felicity had greeted her speaking some sort of goo-goo-ga-ga baby-talk gibberish. Today she was wearing an all-black ensemble: skinny jeans, a fitted shell and an oversize, long-sleeve maxi cardigan that fell all the way to her ankles and looked butter-soft. Her feet were clad in patent leather platform sandals. Her makeup was minimal, except for black winged eyeliner and shiny, candy-apple red lip gloss coloring her perfect cupid’s bow mouth.
She looked as if she’d just stepped off the runway of a Calvin Klein show at fashion week.
“Hello again, Felicity. I’m here to see Austin, please.”
As if his sole purpose was to sit around the office, waiting for her to grace him with her presence.
“I’m sorry, he’s in a meeting.” Felicity eyed the white envelope in Macks’s hands. “May I give him a message for you?”
Macks frowned. Her gaze darted around the reception area as if she didn’t believe Felicity and expected to see him hiding behind a plant along the far wall.
“Will he be long? I’ll wait.”
“I’m afraid he’ll be tied up for the rest of the afternoon. Is that for him?”
Felicity nodded at the envelope Macks was holding with both hands, as if reluctant to give it up.
“It is. It’s an invitation to the opening of an art exhibition at my gallery.”
Oh, so she owns a gallery. Okay. That explains the art in her apartment—and Mr. Erectus.
Felicity reached out to take the envelope. Macks didn’t give it up.
With her outstretched hand, Felicity gestured to the invite. “I’ll see that he gets it.”
For a moment Felicity feared that Macks might decide to take the invitation with her and attempt delivery another time. Finally, she relinquished it.
“Thank you, Felicity.” Macks’s red lips tilted up in a tight-lipped smile. “Tell Austin I’m sorry I missed him.”
As she watched the woman walk away, she couldn’t help but wonder if Austin had taken it upon himself to book dinner reservations for himself and Macks, the same way he’d booked their dinner at R’evolution. She would never know. She’d better get used it, because once she left Fortune Investments, he’d likely be out of her life forever.
Chapter Five
Austin arrived at Felicity’s house a few minutes earlier than he’d pro
mised. He parked on the street and took a minute to take in the neat green double shotgun-style home with its symmetrical front porch decorated with darker green gingerbread embellishments, potted topiaries and hanging ferns.
Before tonight, he’d never really pictured where Felicity lived, but if he had, this would be the place. It was perfectly her. He let himself out of his red Tesla and in through the gate of the waist-high wrought iron fence that surrounded the tidy little front yard, then made his way up the brick path toward her front door. Hers was the left half, with the corresponding address in brass numbers above the threshold.
He glanced at his watch before knocking on the door. He was a full ten minutes early. But her car was in the driveway and surely it couldn’t take very long to do what she needed to do for Maia’s dogs. If she wasn’t ready to go, he could wait.
Tonight, patience and kindness were the key words.
“You’re early,” she said when she answered the door. Austin noticed she’d traded in her sleek black pencil skirt and pumps for a blue dress and strappy sandals.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing around, taking in the nicely furnished living room. Its hardwood floors and brightly colored furniture added a feminine touch to the otherwise traditional room. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her how nice she looked, but he reeled the words back in the nick of time. “We have time. Go ahead and finish whatever you were doing.”
Although, he couldn’t imagine that she needed to do anything else to herself because she looked gorgeous.
“No problem, but here.” She handed him a pretty gold necklace. “Will you help me with this? It’s difficult to put on by myself.”
“Sure.” As he put the necklace around the front of her, she held her hair up, allowing him a better look at the fine clasp on the piece of jewelry. He could also see the delicate curve of her neck, which was just long enough to be graceful, and the gentle sweep of her jawline. He leaned closer, trying with clumsy fingers to hook the necklace into place—it really would be difficult to manage alone. Not that he thought Felicity had ulterior motives.
Okay, maybe it had crossed his mind.
But then he got a whiff of her perfume, a delicate floral scent. It not only made him want to lean in closer and nuzzle her neck, claim that recess where neck flowed into collarbone, but for a split second, his mind blanked on all the reasons he shouldn’t do it and his most primal urges took over.
Thank God he checked himself just in time.
What the hell was going on with him? What were these feelings? And what the hell was he supposed to do with them? As Felicity’s boss, he could hardly put the moves on her to test them out.
He finally hooked the blasted necklace together and took a safe step back.
“Thanks.” She let her hair loose and it cascaded down around her shoulders. His groin tightened, and he shifted his weight from one foot to another hoping to lessen the tension. “I just need to bring the dogs in. They’re out in the backyard taking care of business. Do you want a drink? I have wine and beer in the fridge.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” he said as he followed her out the back door and down three steps to a bricked patio. The plants and flowers were lush and made him think of the book The Secret Garden, which his mom had read aloud to him and his siblings when they were younger. “Did you plant all this?”
Felicity beamed and stood up a little straighter, as if it were a point of pride. “I sure did. I love plants and flowers. Gardening is my therapy.”
At the sound of her voice, three corgis bounded onto the patio from the yard. With their tongues lolling out the side of their mouths and the playful way they barked and bounced around each other, they reminded Austin of a trio of tumbling court jesters. Exactly what he needed to lighted the mood.
“Someday, I’d love to put a greenhouse right over there.” She pointed to a small section of yard past the patio. “That would be my idea of heaven.” She bit her bottom lip. “And that probably makes me seem like I lead a very dull life.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said. “It makes you seem like you know what you like, like you’re very connected to your home and the earth around it.”
Her lips curved into a slight smile and her cheeks colored. Felicity of the sharp wit and no-nonsense demeanor suddenly looked vulnerable. He realized that she was very good at taking care of others—at taking care of him—but she wasn’t used to being the focus.
“And that’s a compliment, in case you were wondering,” he added.
“Thank you. Taken as such.”
This first glimpse inside her world only made him curious to know more.
* * *
Austin had been a good sport listening to her talk about her garden dreams. She felt a little foolish going on about it. The Fortunes had a staff of workers who tended the gardens of their beautiful Garden District mansion. A woman who liked to get her hands dirty was probably about as unattractive to Austin as it got. But he had been a good sport about it, complimentary and indulgent, actually.
At least she always made sure her fingernails were scrubbed clean. Maybe that was why he was so surprised to learn gardening was her hobby. Macks of the immaculate French manicure probably would think such an interest quite plebeian. Oh, well, it was her loss.
One thing Felicity never had trouble with was being herself. Even after being on the outside looking in to the glamorous world of Austin Fortune, she had never forgotten her place. Tonight, as she and Austin had walked the gorgeous, gilded ballroom of the Roosevelt Hotel checking and double-checking the details for the ball, she had never been more aware of her role as facilitator. She would attend the party, but she would be working. She would not be there to have fun or donate money to the cause or have any opportunity to forget exactly who she was and where she came from.
After the walkthrough, she reminded herself of that as she and Austin sat at a lovely table for two in a cozy corner of R’evolution.
It was a banquette-style table, a built-in semicircle covered in soft, tufted white leather, just big enough to make a cozy space for two people. The good part about the bench seating was it forced them to sit next to each other, which meant eye contact was optional and she might not completely give away her feelings for him. The bad part was it forced them to sit next to each other, which meant she could smell his cologne, an intoxicating scent that smelled expensive, with hints of cedar, coffee and leather.
She’d caught whiffs of his scent before as he passed by her desk or leaned in to hand her paperwork to process. But tonight, Austin sat with his body angled toward hers, first, talking business—about the final details they needed to firm up for the charity event, then venturing into the personal realm—asking her questions about herself, her past, her future.
Felicity was not used to having so much of his attention focused on her, which was a little uncomfortable. He was talking to her, learning about her like she’d hope a guy would if they were out on a date.
This is not a date.
After the server took their order, Felicity turned the tables on Austin, asking him questions that she would ask a date. Though she knew most of the answers, tonight he seemed different, an open book, his mood lighter, and she fully intended to mine him for what she could get. She was pleasantly surprised by how he opened right up and answered candidly.
“My sister Savannah—have you met her?”
“I did at one of the company picnics. She’s the one who’s going to school in Texas, right?”
“Yes, in Austin. She and her boyfriend are in town. I’m eager to see her. They’re staying with my parents and they’ll be here for the ball.”
“It will be nice to see her again,” Felicity said.
Felicity started to ask Austin if she should seat Savannah and her beau at his table or at their parents’ table, but she stopped herself. If she turned the conversation back to work, it mig
ht break this delicate spell that seemed to be cast over the evening. Instead, she made a mental note to talk about seating charts when they were back in the office, which would happen soon enough. Too soon for her liking, in fact.
Why can’t this night last forever?
That way, she wouldn’t have to remind him about Macks’s invitation, which she’d left on his desk to make sure that he saw it and didn’t somehow push it aside.
As if he read her mind, he said, “Did Mackenzie Cole stop by this afternoon?”
A curse word that wasn’t usually part of Felicity’s vocabulary popped in her brain. They really were on the same wavelength tonight. But why did he have to pick up on her thoughts of Macks? Then again, maybe it was better that it was the Macks train of thought rather than the other, more private tidbits she’d been pondering.
Plus, this provided the perfect opportunity to do a little digging.
And he called her Mackenzie. Not Macks. Hmm...is that good or bad? Or does he only call her Macks in private? When it’s just the two of them.
“Yes, she came by with an invitation for an art show opening. I put it on your desk.”
“I saw it.”
“Are you going? I mean, should I put it on your calendar?”
Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited for the moment of truth.
He shrugged, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “It’s a show at her gallery. I’ve never heard of the artist. So, I don’t know if I’ll go.”
Inwardly, she cheered.
Felicity one. Macks zero.
“Yeah, maybe I will. It would be nice to support her.”
Why does she need your support? She’s the kind of woman who gets everything.
Felicity zero. Macks one million.
“She’s pretty.” Felicity figured she might as well go for broke and get to the heart of the matter.
“Is she?”
“Hello? Have you not met her? She’s gorgeous.”
Calm down. You’re not trying to sell Austin on her.
“I have, but—”
“She seems like your type.”
A Fortunate Arrangement Page 6