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My gaze glides over her left hand.
No ring.
She’s not married or engaged.
If there’s a boyfriend, I’ll back off.
I fish for more. “If you do have plans, perhaps you and your boyfriend could at least make time for the performance. I promise it will be a night to remember.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’ll have a closer look at my schedule. I do need to run now, Mr. Donato.”
“Alexander.”
“Alexander,” she repeats back softly. “Goodbye.”
I don’t respond.
I watch her walk away, wondering if another man is going to have her in his bed tonight.
If that’s the case, I hate the lucky son-of-a-bitch.
Chapter 12
Olivia
“Hypothetically speaking…” I trail my words. Looking in Kate’s direction, I smile while I wait for her response.
“Olivia.” She reaches for a lace veil before she turns to face me. “Don’t. Just tell me what it is. I already know it’s about you.”
“And you,” I counter as I smooth my hand over the long train of a bridal gown.
I met Kate here at her store, Katie Rose Bridal, after I was done work. She’s still on the clock. Her mission at the moment is to select dresses and veils for a celebrity bride-to-be who has a consultation booked with her tomorrow morning.
“Me?” She hangs the veil on the silver garment rack that she’s been wheeling around the store. “How does this involve me?”
“Do you like the symphony?” I ask with a wide grin.
“I like that pink skirt you have on.” She laughs as she looks down at the black jumpsuit she’s wearing. “Can I borrow it sometime?”
She already knows the answer to that question. We’ve been passing clothing items back and forth between our apartments for the last few months. Sometimes when I get dressed in the morning, I’m not even sure if the clothes I’m putting on belong to her or me.
“Anytime.”
“Thank you,” she mouths.
“The symphony, Kate.” I glance at an off-white wedding dress that’s covered with feathers. “Do you like it?”
“I’ve never been. I’m not sure if I like it or not,” she confesses with a wink. “Is this related to Alexander Donato?”
My eyes widen. “You’ve never been to the symphony?”
“Nice try, Liv.” She picks up a crown veil and holds it in the air, examining it from all angles. “Don’t skip over my question about Alexander. Is this conversation about him or not?”
I move to where she’s standing and run my fingers over the edge of a vintage veil that’s been embroidered with crystals. “He sent me two tickets to his first performance and an invitation to the reception after the show.”
Her gaze darts to my face. “We’re going. No question.”
“No question? You’ve made up your mind?”
