Читать книгу A Diva in Manhattan: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance - Aubrie Dionne - Страница 8

Alaina leaned back in her seat in the audience, trying not to look too smug. Twenty thousand was like pennies to her. Thanks to the accounts her parents had set up for her future, she made more in interest every month.

Besides, it was for charity.

And anything was worth beating Bianca, no matter the cost. Not to mention she had the man of her choice, Lance DeBarr.

The auction ended with a few closing remarks. Afterwards, the audience mingled, congratulating each other on their winning bids. Alaina felt like queen of the universe as she cut through the crowd towards the backstage. She wanted to catch Lance before he left so they could solidify their plans.

A sly voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Just because you can buy your men doesn’t mean you’ll be able to buy your tenure here at the Met.” Bianca crumpled her auction number underneath her pink nails. Some people were just sore losers.

Alaina stifled the rising current of anger. So what if she had to buy a date? Bianca would have done the same thing. If she could have afforded it. “What do you care? Don’t you have a contract with some opera in Germany?”

“For now. But who knows what the future will bring, and I’m telling you, this place isn’t big enough for both our voices.”

Bianca and Alaina had been competing with each other ever since their Julliard days. She’d always claimed Alaina had bought her way into the school, while Bianca was there on scholarship. Maybe Alaina’s parents had the money to send her there, but that didn’t take away from the fact she was just as talented. You can buy a grand piano, but you couldn’t buy a world-class voice.

Right now, Alaina wished Bianca could buy some tact. “They’ll have to expand the stage, because I’m not going anywhere.”

She pushed by Bianca and slipped backstage.

Lance sat in a chair resting his hand in his hand, exhaustion clear in his slumped shoulders. Maybe he had a long day at work? Who knew all the numbers he had to crunch and all the graphs he had to interpret? Math always made her head spin, and she had no interest in the stock market, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to him.

Alaina took the seat beside him. “Long day?”

He glanced up and blinked in surprise. “You could say that.”

“I know what that’s like. I was supposed to be soaking in my bubble bath right about now.”

His eyes flicked over her dress as if he imagined her in the tub.

Alaina smiled and crossed her legs. She wished they were both there right now.

“Thanks, by the way.” His gaze delved deep into her eyes, making her blush.

“For what?”

“For saving my butt back there.”

Butt? For a New York stockbroker, he talked like an ordinary guy. He was so laid back. Alaina was always wound up, and his natural calm soothed her. “How?”

“From that woman in pink.”

Wow. He just shot up from hot to perfect in her eyes. Alaina played coy. “You mean you don’t like her?”

“She’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. And I’m sure she’s great company. But, I didn’t want to listen to her asking about stock portfolios all night.”

Alaina laughed. Seems like Bianca tried too hard. “Well, you’re in luck, because I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in the stock market.”

He breathed with relief. “Then, I think we’re going to have a great time.”

Alaina shook her head, not knowing what to make of him. He was such a contradiction, wealthy yet modest, confident yet hesitant, sexy yet boyishly cute. Unlike most men, she couldn’t read what was on his mind, although she suspected she was in there, somewhere.

“So, when is this date going to be?” She used her conversational, ambivalent tone, trying not to sound too eager.

He shrugged. “Whenever you want. My shifts usually end around seven.”

“Shifts?”

“I mean, sometimes I work late at the…office.”

“Oh.” She hoped he wasn’t a workaholic. Gotta have time for those bubble baths.

He drummed his finger on the armrest of his chair. “So when are you free?”

“Let me see…” She was supposed to volunteer at Heart House tomorrow until three, and rehearsals didn’t start until the following night. “How about tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good.”

“How dressy should I be?”

He gave her a suggestive smile. “What you’re wearing now is nice.”

Boy did she like this guy. Alaina teased him with a little slap on the arm. “I can’t wear the same outfit two days in a row!”

His dark eyes sparkled. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll find something similar.” Her mind went through every outfit she’d ever owned. Better raid the closet when she got home. “And where are we going?”

He raised both eyebrows. “That’s a secret.”

Alaina nodded. “Of course. You like keeping secrets?”

His face darkened. “No. As a matter of fact I don’t. But, this has to be special. You paid twenty thousand dollars after all.”

Good. Because she’d been burned by secrets before- like when her roommate on her Italian tour stole her guy. She’d brought herself to forgive her, but still, secrets were never good. “I’m sure you’ll make it worthwhile.”

“I’ll certainly try.”

“So you’ll pick me up?”

“Eight o’clock. I can pick you up here, or at your place. It’s up to you.

She figured he was safe. He was Mrs. DeBarr’s son after all. Everyone in the entire fundraiser knew they were going out. “My place. Paramount Tower – 240 East 39th Street. I’ll be in the lobby.”

His gaze widened as though he was impressed. Sure it was a nice place to live, but she bet he had her beat. Not that she liked him for his money. She was so well off, Alaina didn’t need a guy with money. The last guy she fell for was an Italian tour guide. And she could guess how much he made.

What mattered was their chemistry, and with this guy, they were way off the charts.

***

Brett collapsed onto the orange plaid couch he’d found by the garbage dumpster. He wished he had something with access to the internet. Where the hell was he going to take someone who’d just paid for a twenty thousand dollar date?

Mrs. DeBarr gave him a limitless credit card and told him he could buy whatever it took, but she didn’t give him any advice on what to buy. Sure, he could take Alaina to some fancy restaurant downtown, but he wanted to show her a little of who he was and what he liked. Only then would he be able to discern if it was worth sticking around and telling her the truth.

If he decided to pursue a relationship, then ultimately he would have to tell her. And not just about his vocation. He’d have to tell her about the fire, open up like he hadn’t been able to do in the past.

Brett walked to the fridge and opened a beer. He was getting ahead of himself. He had to play it one day at a time. She may not even like the same things he did. Heck, she was an opera star and he was a logger from Maine. What could they possibly have in common?

For now, all he had to worry about was which restaurant to choose and getting to bed on time for an early shift tomorrow. He couldn’t be caught snoozing on a fancy china plate at dinner.

He took a sip, trying to calm himself. He had the whole day tomorrow to come up with something. Maybe some of the guys had an idea.

He thought of Phil’s comment about the flagpole up her ass.

Now I know I’m getting tired.

Phil would probably tell him to go out for beer and chicken wings.

Which wasn’t far from what he was used to. But, he had to find some middle ground. No caviar. But also, sadly, no chicken wings.

Up in Maine, he used to go to a family owned steakhouse. It was a nice sit-down restaurant renovated from an old train station. The old wooden pillars gave the dining room a rugged, rustic feel of Maine. He loved it.

Maybe he could find something like that here in New York?

Brett threw his bottle in the recycling bin.

Tomorrow he’d get Phil to go on his fancy iPhone and do a search. He’d find a nice restaurant which also challenged her cultural perceptions. Her reaction would give him the information he needed. She might hate it and he might crash and burn. But, he wasn’t willing to open his heart to just any woman. Failure was worth the price for the truth.