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“My money’s on you, sweetie,” my dad says loyally.
I turn back around, intending to ask if they want to go see the new exhibit at the Guggenheim.
I open my mouth, then shut it again when I see that my mom’s on the phone and my dad’s face is buried once more in his newspaper.
I head with my mimosa toward the kitchen to chat with Linda.
I’m not sure either parent notices when I leave.
Andrew
MONDAY, 4:45 A.M.
Andrew Mulroney pushed through the revolving doors of his apartment building and out into the dark Monday morning drizzle.
It was one of the few times in his adult life that he was off schedule, fifteen minutes earlier than usual, but if he had to be out of his routine, better to be ahead of schedule than behind.
One of his clients was in Bali on her “divorce-moon,” whatever the hell that was, and the time difference necessitated him getting into the office earlier than usual if he hoped to catch her on the phone before her cocktail hour.
He didn’t mind. Fifteen minutes were nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Although…
These days, fifteen minutes in the early morning hours meant the difference between seeing Georgiana Watkins and not seeing her. His earlier-than-usual morning meant that he’d miss her today, and thank God for that.
The socialite was everything that he abhorred. Self-indulged, flighty, useless…ridiculous.
And yet…Andrew took a sip of his chocolate protein shake, pausing to dig his umbrella out of his bag, trying to ignore his inconvenient thoughts.
Thoughts that told him his feelings about missing Georgiana this morning had a lot more to do with disappointment than with relief.
It wasn’t like he wanted to see her, and yet there was just something about the woman that got to him. He had no use for pampered princesses who shopped during the days and partied their nights away. And yet there was an irritating kindness to her—a warmth that she bestowed upon everyone who crossed her path.
Except for him.
He popped open his umbrella, annoyed with himself.
Andrew had just started in the direction of his gym when a flash of yellow caught his eye. He glanced up, watching as the taxi door opened and one high-heeled sandal emerged, followed by a shapely female calf.
The woman stepped onto the sidewalk, wobbling just the slightest bit on the skyscraper heels as she slammed the taxi door shut.
Andrew dragged his gaze up the slim legs and mostly bare thighs, all the way up to the light brown waves.
His throat went a bit dry. Apparently he wasn’t going t
o miss Ms. Watkins this morning after all.
Georgiana was waving goodbye at the departing taxi. No doubt she’d become best friends with the driver. She was also holding her usual pink box filled with donuts, or cupcakes, or whatever junk food nightmare she insisted on stuffing the front-desk guys with.
Andrew watched her for a moment and contemplated crossing the street to spare them both. Yes. He’d do that.
Just as he was about to turn away before she could spot him, she took a step forward, not quite stumbling, but not exactly steady either.
His eyes narrowed. Just unsteady on the high heels, or…?
Georgiana hiccupped, the sound echoing in the quiet morning.
Jesus.
