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Just studying, what about you?
With a smile, Jack invited her out for drinks on Tuesday night. She agreed eagerly, with a Sounds great! Followed by a dozen smiley face emoticons. He wasn’t a fan of emoticons, but if they were a package deal with the body, he would make do.
He typed, It’s a date...his thumbs hovering over the keypad.
If only he could remember Treadmill Girl’s name. It sounde
d like a fifty-year-old receptionist...Darla? Martha?
With a sigh, he pressed send. Her name didn’t matter. He would figure it out over drinks and she would be exactly what the doctor ordered after the board meeting.
The fucking board meeting.
It had been called by the shareholders who were “concerned about the company’s trajectory at this critical juncture.” It was also a crock of shit. If the board truly thought Jack would do anything to jeopardize the company now, they were insane. He and Antonio Fiorini had fought tooth and nail to make The Fiorini Group the biggest real estate firm in the city. Antonio might be dead, but all that meant was that Jack intended to work even harder to satisfy the shareholders.
He just had to prove that to them. Fuckers.
He gathered his briefcase as the limo cruised to the curb. Eva stood on the street corner, nose buried in her e-reader. No crossed arms or sour expression even though he was fifteen minutes late. She was simply keeping herself busy. Probably devouring some Jason Bourne style novel.
Eva was a good girl—always had been—but she was a sucker for a high octane read. She and Jack used to swap paperbacks when he was in college, even though Antonio thought his little sister was too young to be reading political thrillers. But Jack and Eva had ignored him, understanding the universal bookworm truth that one is never too young for an excellent read.
God, if there was any woman who could make him recall those sordid teenage years, it was Eva. She’d been around to see what a mess he was in high school, after his dad gambled away their family fortune and then died, forcing his mom to live in his grandmother’s basement in South Boston. She saw the way he’d been ostracized by the rich kids at his private school for having to work the cafeteria while the rest of the student body was out partying. Antonio was the only one who had backed him up. Antonio was that kind of guy; a prince among men.
Eva had been destroyed after his death, so soon after losing her father. Both deaths had been so unexpected.
“And he appears.” Eva shut the cover on her e-reader, tapping her foot playfully as he joined her on the sidewalk outside the Plaza. She tossed her dark hair before her face melted into that shy, little-girl grin she’d never grown out of.
God, he adored that about her. Her absolute fucking sweetness.
“Hello, Jack,” she said, as he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re late. Must’ve been a good night.”
It would’ve been better if you’d been the one in my bed.
He pushed the thought away, and chided himself. This was Eva, not one of his Little Black Book women. She was the gangly girl who visited Antonio at Family Day at the Hill, all messy braids and freckles. The girl who used to pop gum all over her face and turn cartwheels on the quad until she was covered in grass stains. He’d been a junior in high school, and she’d been—what? Nine? Ten?
But looking at her now, Jack knew exactly why the cheesy line had popped into his head. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. In the past fifteen years, she’d grown up, a fact that was all too obvious in that sheer silk dress she was wearing. It bared every inch of her long legs—legs that were once all knobby, skinned knees.
And now they were shapely, supple, and would probably feel fantastic wrapped around his ass.
He cleared his throat. “Just come from Mass, have you? Oh, wait, they wouldn’t let that—” he waved a hand in the general direction of her dress—“in church.” He meant it to be funny, but it came out disapproving.
“Why are you so grumpy?” she teased. “I’m the one who should be annoyed. You kept me waiting fifteen minutes. I’d be upset if Alex wasn’t chapters away from nailing the killer.”
He motioned her toward the Plaza’s revolving doors, doing his best to make sure his eyes wouldn’t drift to those legs. Those fucking incredible legs. When did they get there? “Your brother asked me to look out for you,” he said stiffly. “And I doubt he’d approve of see-through silk.”
That’s right, he told himself. Concentrate on protecting her. She’s like your sister, for God’s sake.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Dad,” she said dismissively. Even so, she tugged at the hem of her dress as they walked through the opulent lobby toward the entrance of The Palm Court.
His lips curved up.
When she caught him smiling, she stopped, and her face blushed pink. “Your feedback is not appreciated, Jack. I’m not a kid anymore.”
So I noticed, he thought. And so has my dick. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The lobby of the hotel was busy, filled with the usual assortment of executives in dark suits and tourists out for an overpriced Sunday brunch. Eva gleamed among them. Jack shook his head as a group of men old enough to be her father eyed her up and down. Of course they would. She was easily the most beautiful woman in the hotel. But the things those men had on their minds? Innocent Eva would run and hide behind the potted palms if she knew half the filthy things they’d want from her.
Jack nodded toward the clutch of dirty old men. “You don’t mind those geezers eyeing you like a piece of meat?”
