Читать книгу And Then He Kissed Me - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Abby blinked away her shock. He felt responsible for her twenty-first birthday? She wanted to ask where that had come from.

Instead she said, “Aside from the obvious, that it’s now two years after the fact, why would you think you owe me that?”

“When you hired on, you became part of the Marchetti family. I don’t know where my head was back then.”

The dark look was back momentarily, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. He so rarely looked angry, she couldn’t help noticing that it had happened twice in one day. What bad memory had brought that expression to his face? Whatever it was, she had the most absurd desire to make it better.

She pushed the thought away and said, “That’s a no-brainer. Your head was where it always is.” She gave him a wry look. “Buried in business.”

“Maybe.” One corner of his mouth lifted, replacing his tension with teasing. “The fact is, you became an adult and the occasion was not properly acknowledged.”

“It was a long time ago. I don’t care—”

“I do,” he said in his I’m-the-boss voice that suffered no pithy comeback.

“It’s very nice of you to be concerned, Nick. But it’s over. Even if I wanted you to, there’s no way you can get that back for me.”

Abby made a conscious effort to wear a blindfold when she looked back on her life. The past held mostly bad memories. But the future was full of possibilities, as soon as it was her turn.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist and stood up, grabbing his jacket as he did. “I don’t have time to debate this right now. But you will have a birthday celebration.”

“If it involves pointy hats and spin the bottle, count me out.”

He laughed and opened the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

Abby stood in the doorway, watching until his broad back was swallowed up by the darkness. She figured there wasn’t too much danger of kissing games for her. Like all the other guys in her past who had tried to plan something with her, Nick would find out she had responsibilities that pushed her own dreams aside.

But the thought of something wild and unpredictable was exciting—for the second and a half she allowed herself to fantasize. Then she filed the daydream under “footloose and fancy-free,” to be pulled out at a later, more convenient time.

Her turn would have to wait.

After dinner, Nick drove Madison home, then walked her to her front door. The building was in an exclusive area of town. This sophisticated high-security condo complex was exactly where a well-bred, up-andcoming female attorney should live.

Sometimes he forgot that Madison Wainright was in such a high-powered profession. She was petite, even smaller than Abby. The black knit dress she wore was a high-collared number that flared at mid-calf and hugged every curve in between. She chose clothes that she thought would make her look taller. From his vantage point she was woefully unsuccessful, since he was looking at the top of her red hair.

He preferred blue-eyed blondes. Although more important than the color of a woman’s hair was her sense of humor. He recalled Abby’s electronics-department comment about woofers and hooters. His mouth twitched again. She had said that on purpose. When she wasn’t hiding behind her professional face, Abby was fun.

So was Madison. Usually. Although he had a feeling her sense of humor had taken the night off. It could be she was preoccupied with the case she was working on, but he suspected he’d done something besides pick her up late to put the wrinkle in her briefs.

At her front door, he stood one step below the porch while she put her key in the lock. The outside light spilled onto the step and sparkled in her green eyes as she glanced hopefully at him. “Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” she asked.

“I wish I could, but there’s an early meeting tomorrow,” he answered.

“Okay. Thanks for dinner.” Her voice was brittle. She pushed the door open and started inside.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Good night, Nick.”

He moved beside her and put his hand on her arm. “Something’s eating you. What is it?”

“We need to talk.”

A shudder slithered through him. He had a feeling he wasn’t the only man on earth who had that reaction to those words. But he figured he had a better reason than most. The last time a woman had said that to him, his life had turned upside down.

He took a deep breath and said, “Okay, shoot.”

She hugged her black clutch purse to her chest. “You’re going to dismiss everything I’m about to say, but it’s time to say it. You don’t have feelings for me, at least not the way I want you to. Although, when you picked me up tonight, I hoped things would be different.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were excited, practically humming with enthusiasm. I haven’t seen you like that in weeks.”

“I’m always upbeat, Madison. And of course I care about you.”

“See? I knew you would dismiss me.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m not. I just don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“We hadn’t finished our dinner salads before the other Nick was back, the one I can’t reach because he’s buried in business.”

Funny, he thought. That’s almost what Abby had said to him earlier. “You make me sound like a schizophrenic, Madison.”

“You are. At least now you are. When we first met, you were attentive. You courted me. It’s what made me fall—” She pulled herself up to her full five feet, one inch, a bit more with heels, and looked him in the eye. “Now you’re like two people. The fun-loving Nick and the one who’s only interested in profits over the last year. The latter is the guy I always see. I’m not sure I like him.”

“Next you’ll accuse me of having an evil twin.”

“That’s what it feels like.”

“You’re exaggerating—”

“Am I? Think about it, Nick.”

He did, trying to remember, and came up empty. He put his hands on her waist and felt her stiffen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She shook her head. “It’s all right. This probably wasn’t the right time to bring it up.”

“I get the feeling you’re holding something back.”

She smiled a little sadly. “You’re very perceptive when you want to be. I’ve been wondering lately if we shouldn’t take a break from each other.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. I saw the look in your eyes earlier when you explained that Abby Ridgeway was the reason you were late.”

“That’s right. Abby and I were talking business.”

“That’s not the way it looks to me. I suspect you have feelings for her that have nothing to do with business.”

“Your imagination is working overtime,” he said, a little hotly.

“Really?” Her chin lifted. “When’s the last time you kissed me as if you really meant it?”

That stopped him cold. He thought back and came up empty. Then he tried to pull her into his arms. “We can remedy that,” he suggested.

She stiffened again and refused to mold herself against him. “If I have to remind you, it takes the magic out of the moment,” she said.

“I’ve been preoccupied—”

She shook her head. “Like I said, this is the wrong time. I’m pretty beat. And I have to be in court early.”

“All right.” He hesitated. “How about a long weekend soon? To talk this through?”

“I don’t think so.”

Nick kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you.”

“You don’t have to. Good night,” she said. Moments later, she disappeared inside and he heard the dead bolt slide shut.

With his hands in his pockets, Nick slowly walked down the stairs to his car. The conversation with Madison had rattled his chain. Feelings for Abby? That was absurd. They were nothing more than friends.

He was perfectly content with Madison and things the way they were. She was an intelligent companion and did him proud when she accompanied him to business functions. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really kissed her and to be honest, he hadn’t missed it.

But Madison wanted more. She was a wonderful woman and deserved more. He’d come to a fork in the road. Or maybe it was more like facing the three doors on a game show.

Behind door number one was a question mark. Door number two was Madison. He liked and respected her. She was beautiful, brainy and would be an asset to any man. His parents admired her. More than once his mother had hinted that procrastination was dangerous. He grinned. Hint was the wrong word. Flo Marchetti had as much tact as a charging rhino. She’d come right out and asked him if he was waiting for divine instruction from the burning bush.

He’d given her some spin about not being ready to settle down. If he and Madison were right together, nothing would be changed by waiting. At the time, he’d believed that. But he sensed that he and Ms. Wainright had just experienced a fish-or-cut-bait situation. He’d bet his new red Corvette that she wanted a family vehicle. She wanted the M-word. Marriage.

The only M-word he could give her was maybe. After his sister married his best friend and his niece was born, he’d started thinking. What would it be like to come home to a special woman? Children? To have all the hours at work mean something in terms of having a family of his own. He’d thought about asking Madison to marry him. But the thought always made him want to run far and fast in the opposite direction.

Then there was door number three—life as he knew it. He had a dynamite career. Building the family business along with his brothers was about as good as it got. Family. An image of Abby jumped into his mind. They were friends. Madison was dead wrong about there being anything romantic between him and Abby. Hadn’t he told her just a few hours before that she was practically a relative? As in a little sister.

He’d tried to be there for her over the years. At first he’d called regularly and dropped in on her and Sarah to make sure they were okay. Abby always put on a brave front. She only came to him in crisis situations. Or to connect cable and hook up her stereo, he thought with a grin. He’d stepped into the big-brother role, to watch over her. But work commitments and Abby herself prevented him from keeping tabs on her as he felt he should. Sarah wasn’t shy about calling, but Abby was different. If not for the info her sister gave him, he wouldn’t have a clue about how Abby spent her free time.

He teased her about not dating, but didn’t really know what was holding her back. But that was a separate issue. Something else was bothering him now. He had told her tonight that she was practically a member of the family.

Some relative he was. Relatives didn’t ignore a birthday as important as number twenty-one. He wondered if the world-famous greeting-card company had a sentiment for a situation like this.

He opened his car door and slipped behind the wheel. A greeting card wasn’t good enough. A grand gesture was what he needed to wipe the slate clean. Then he would see about mending fences with Madison.

Abby heard the knock at her door. Annoyance trickled through her at the interruption. It was nine in the morning on her day off. She was up to her elbows in dust, wax and cleaning solutions. She had built up a head of steam and was prepared to scour the place from engine to caboose. But first she had to get rid of the door-to-door salesman.

She opened the door and said, “I’m not interested—”

Nick grinned down at her. “Hi. And how do you know you’re not interested?”

“I thought you were selling something.”

“Not exactly. Are you going to invite me in?”

“The place is a mess.”

“Is it fatal?”

“Sarah and I have built up immunities.” She returned his smile and opened the door wider. “Enter at your own risk.”

“Thanks.”

She rested her sweatpants-clad hip against the back of the love seat and folded her arms across her chest. “To what do I owe this visit? Is everything all right? Did the restaurant burn down? A fire in the kitchen? Mutiny in the ranks?”

His dark brows drew together. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a glass-is-half-empty sort of person?”

“Yes. So before my imagination really gets revved up, you might want to tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I’d like to think it’s a good thing.” He looked down at her. “I’m here to invite you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” Abby resisted her inclination to feel Nick’s forehead for signs of fever and delirium.

What in the world was he thinking? Going out with the hired help? He was too young for a midlife crisis. Although she’d never seen that particular gleam in his eyes. And he wasn’t wearing his customary suit. It was Saturday, but his reputation for working seven days a week was legendary. So she didn’t often see him in casual clothes. And a good thing, too.

His jeans and the long-sleeved white shirt rolled to the elbows highlighted his masculinity. Casual clothes on Nick were dangerous to her unbreakable rule. Work attire was comfortable and safe. Besides reminding her that she needed to maintain a professional relationship, his suit jacket hid that great butt—

Whoa, Abby. Don’t go there. This was shaky ground. He was her boss. She had no business critiquing his anatomy, even if it did kick up her heart rate. What was her world coming to?

No good. That’s what. And not fair, since she was dressed in gray sweats and no makeup, a scary proposition at best.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I can’t drop everything.”

“You don’t have to drop anything,” he said. “In fact I recommend against dropping breakables.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I have things to do.”

He looked at his watch. “If I pick you up at seven-thirty, will that give you enough time?”

“There’s never enough time,” she said.

He shook his head sympathetically. “You need to have some fun, Ab.”

“No, I don’t.” That came out so witchy. She sighed. “I don’t mean to be rude, Nick, but just which part of no didn’t you understand?”

“The N and the O.” He folded his arms over his chest and grinned down at her.

“You know we could have had this conversation on the phone,” she said.

“I had a feeling you would resist the idea. I thought it might take some convincing, and it’s not as easy to get rid of me in person.”

Abby let out a long breath. If she had known he was selling something, she would never have opened the door. And her day off had started out so well. She had formulated a plan. Life was so much easier that way. If she deviated from her daily goals, there would be more to do tomorrow. Her outline of the day hadn’t included convincing Nick that she couldn’t forget her responsibilities and go play with him.

“Let me explain this to you,” she said. “No is a negative response to a proposition or situation. It means I can’t accompany you. But I appreciate the thought. It’s very sweet—”

“Look at it this way, Ab. If you’re going to do footloose and fancy-free someday, you need experience. You’re the one who’s facing the light at the end of the tunnel Carefree abandon doesn’t just happen. It needs single-minded training, determination, practice and sacrifice.”

“So going out to dinner is actually the first lesson in Footloose and Fancy-Free 101?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “The prerequisite is Spontaneity 100.”

She shook her head. “It’s very nice of you, Nick. I’d rather do anything than search and destroy dust bunnies in this place,” she said, grimly looking around her living room.

“But?” he prompted.

“I have responsibilities. If I don’t take care of them, my little boat will capsize. I have too much to do.”

“Name three things that will tank you if they’re not done because you go out to dinner tonight,” he said, confidence oozing from him.

It wasn’t easy arguing with Mr. Perfect. If only his hair was sticking up in the back, or there was dirt on his handsome face or lettuce between his teeth. Anything that would put him on the level of someone like her. But that would never happen. He would always be at the head of the banquet table, and she would be in the corner trying to corral the dust bunnies.

“I’m waiting,” he said. “Three reasons you can’t throw caution to the wind and go with me.”

She had a sneaking suspicion he knew what she would say, and was prepared to bob and weave, and block her at every turn. “Okay. My classes.”

“It’s Saturday. You don’t have a class today.”

“But I’m up to my ears in homework, and Sarah may have plans and need transportation.”

“So do your homework this afternoon and I’ll alert Ma to be on call with the Beamer for Sarah tonight. What’s your third excuse?”

“The health department.”

“What?”

“They’re going to shut this place down if I don’t clean it.”

She squirmed uncomfortably when his black eyes narrowed on her. “You’re reaching with that one. What are you afraid of, Abby? Me?”

“Of course not.” That was only half-true. She was cautious of him, or rather spending time with him that wasn’t work-related.

She understood work, and her place in the scheme of things. He was proposing a Cinderella scenario. Take her to dinner—translation, the ball. Let her have some fun and see how the other half lives. But at midnight the fairy tale would be over. He was right. She was afraid—to see the other side. Afraid of facing life after her matching horses and golden coach turned back into a pumpkin and dust bunnies.

Nick Marchetti was Prince Charming in a business suit. He was handsome, funny, and didn’t have to worry about paying his electric bill if he used too much power during a heat wave. He was so far out of her league, it wasn’t funny. When it was her turn at the plate, she wanted to swing away. She wanted to have fun. She wanted to date. She wanted enough time to nurture a budding relationship.

It wouldn’t be easy to take the first step; so she would wait until her life simplified and she had the time to devote to a man. She had enough scars to convince her that unless she waited for her turn, the romance in her crystal ball was doomed to failure. When she had a clear field, she would give it a try. But what guy could compare favorably to Nick?

All of that wasn’t the worst. What scared her most was that the delicate balance between work and friendship would be somehow altered. After her parents had died, she’d assumed adult responsibilities. She hadn’t known how to handle the legal matters, let alone how or what to do with the house. Nick had stepped in and advised her. Besides her sister, their relationship was the brightest part of her life. Knowing he was there, whether she needed him or not, had gotten her through the rough times. She didn’t want to jeopardize what they had.

“Look, pal, I’m only talking about a couple of hours. An evening. A belated twenty-first-birthday dinner. You would be doing me a favor.”

“Oh, really.” A grin broke through. She loved watching Maneuvering Marchetti in action. And what a stretch! Two and a half years after the fact, how was he going to turn her belated twenty-first birthday celebration to his advantage? “How?”

“Let me count the ways.” He held his hand up and touched his index finger. “Number one—clear my conscience. Number two—make my star employee happy. A happy employee is a productive employee.”

“So this is all about you?”

“Not entirely. You haven’t heard number three yet.”

“Okay. Lay it on me.”

He held up three fingers and wiggled them. “If you don’t lighten up and have a little fun, you’re heading for a midlife crisis of astronomic proportions. As an honorary Marchetti,” he said, pointing at her, “you’re entitled to a free, all-expense-paid dinner where you will be instructed by yours truly in the finer art of celebrating a milestone birthday. While there, you will get a long-overdue lesson in having fun.”

Temptation tugged at Abby and stirred something dormant in her soul. She longed to do something wild, something spontaneous and completely out of character. Her whole body vibrated with excitement. The prospect of plain Abby Ridgeway spending the evening with the fabulous Nick Marchetti was the stuff of fantasy.

Then her cautious, practical nature reared its ugly head and told her to turn him down.

“I don’t know, Nick,” she said, not quite able to listen and obey her sensible side.

“Then consider this—if you say no, I’m planning to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off. I thought you’d learned never to mess with a Marchetti determined to have his way.” He sighed. “Somehow I suspected it would come down to brawn over rational thought.”

Abby found she was leaning toward a yes, and it wasn’t his phony threat of physical force. How could she turn him down? He seemed to want to do this and had taken steps to make it happen, including thinking of Sarah. A girl who said no would have to have her head examined.

“Then in an effort to preserve my dignity, the answer is—okay.” Then she thought of something and said, “What should I wear?”

“A cocktail dress. This is an occasion for dressing up. I have a special place in mind.”

She touched his arm, ignoring the tingle in her fingertips. “Thank you, Nick.”

“No need to thank me. On top of the motivations I listed, there’s one I left out. Ma says I’ve been working too hard and should have some fun. Maybe now she’ll get off my back.”

She met his gaze and gave him a stern look. “You’re lucky to have her.”

“That was a joke. Now I’ll leave you to your responsibilities.” He tapped her nose. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Be here. Be ready. Be prepared. No excuses.”