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A smile cascades over my lips when I read the text message that pops up on my screen.
Unknown: Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are liquid emeralds?
Trying to catch my breath, I look up and into his eyes. “No.”
“Fools,” he quips. “You’ve lived in a world filled with fools until now.”
He has no idea how hard that hits, because in so many ways, it’s the truth.
His hand jumps up so he can pinch my chin. “I’m going to kiss you on your cheek. Is that all right?”
I’m awash in wonder that he asked. That he was that considerate. “Please do.”
He does just that, taking a moment after the soft kiss on my cheek to run the tip of his nose against my skin until his lips are resting against the shell of my ear. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
It can’t be soon enough, but I sigh. “Okay. Yes.”
He steps back to look into my eyes again. “Don’t let Posey overwork you.”
“I won’t.” I smile.
“Goodbye, Carrie.”
“Bye, Rook,” I say with a touch of longing I hope he can’t hear.
As he pivots to walk away, I follow each of his steps with my gaze until he glances over his shoulder and shoots me a smile so breathtaking it could stop this entire city in its tracks.
“Why do you have so much pizza?” Telford grabs another slice of pepperoni and mushroom from one of the three boxes I set out on the kitchen island. “Not to mention, two types of dessert pizza. What’s going on?”
I tap the corner of one of the boxes. “Posey is Elio Franzini’s sister.”
His widened eyes give his reaction away, but he waits until he’s done chewing before he says anything. “Posey? The mural artist? That Posey is Elio’s sister?”
“It’s a small world.”
“I’ll say.” He takes another bite before washing it down with a swig of soda from a can he found in Abby’s fridge.
“So, she had all this delivered here for the two of you?”
Leave it to Tel to start a game of twenty questions without informing me that I’m playing. “From what I could piece together, she called Elio to ask him to send lunch for us, and he brought all of this with him.”
The crust in Telford’s hand tumbles onto the counter. “Hold up. Elio Franzini was here today, and you were dressed like that?”
I look at my jeans and T-shirt. The T-shirt has little blue paint splatter marks across the front because the brush slipped from my hand after I had that glass of champagne with Rook.
“Minus the blue paint,” I say.
“You know what they say about catching flies.”
I shrug. “Don’t leave the door open so they can’t come in?”
He laughs. “No. You’ll catch more with honey than vinegar.”
Stumped by what he means, I shake my head. “How does that apply to me? I’m always kind to people.”
“I didn’t say anything about being kind.” He stomps his shoe on the floor in frustration. “I meant that you’ll catch a guy’s eye more if you look sweet, like honey. Right now, you have more of a vinegar look happening.”
I can’t contain a laugh. “You really need to brush up on what certain sayings mean, Tel. If you tell someone they’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar, it means…”
