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“Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll have Stella take you shopping tomorrow morning to get you an appropriate dress.”
She gasped. “She’s going to have to take me some place inexpensive! I can’t afford the clothes in Jennifer’s boutique.”
He shook his head. “Whether you understand it or not, this dinner tomorrow night also works for me. While you talk with Mrs. Flannigan, I get a chance to chitchat with Arthur. She might own the business, but he’s got influence over her.” He smiled. “Actually, I owe you for the fact that your charity is getting me extra time with them.”
“You just won’t let this go, will you?”
“Not if you’re about to pay for things that are helping me out.” Deciding the time for teasing was over, he sucked in a breath. “Seriously. Thank you. I need this extra time with them, and you and your charity are providing it.”
“Well, the dinner is supposed to be for me so I’m getting benefit too. That means there’ll be no more agreements drawn up.”
He drew a cross on his chest. “I promise.”
Still in the limo, they placed a call to Jennifer at the boutique. Dean told her they needed a cocktail dress for the following night, and that Kristen would be in the next morning to look for one with Stella.
“Anything special I should pull for her to try on?”
“Just something pretty. We trust your judgment.” He caught Kristen’s gaze and smiled. “And make it red.”
Kristen laughed as he clicked off the call. “Very funny.”
“I’m getting much better at being funny.”
She said, “You are,” as Dean pressed the button for the chauffeur, who came around and opened the door.
Kristen got out and he followed behind her. He walked her into the hotel lobby and almost escorted her to her room, but the feelings he’d been having around her all day kept growing. Now they were committed to another evening out. He needed the time with the Flannigans as much as Kristen did—so he couldn’t pass up this chance.
But as he spoke with Mrs. Minerva Flannigan about dinner Sunday night, he’d had the oddest sense they really were becoming a couple, and though he knew it wasn’t true, there was a part of him that wished it was.
That was the real reason he couldn’t walk her upstairs. He knew as surely as he knew his own name that if she gave him any sort of encouragement at all he’d kiss her. And then what?
Date?
Marry her?
The vision he’d had of him and Kristen in his master bedroom at his house in Albany filled his brain, and his chest tightened. How could he picture himself with a child when he had no clue how to be a father? How could he picture himself with someone as wonderful as Kristen when he was a stodgy workaholic who would get so involved in his projects and his business that he sometimes slept in his office?
How could he get involved with Kristen when he knew it would end...and knew, quite painfully, how paralyzing it was when a relationship ended. Nina might have died, but when she broke it off with him she’d outlined a hundred reasons they were wrong for each other, crushing his soul, reinforcing his beliefs that he shouldn’t get involved in a real relationship.
His feelings for Kristen were wrong. He would stop them.
The elevator came. She stepped in and waved goodbye as the door closed, and he got back into the limo and headed for the sanctuary of his penthouse.
The limo stopped at his building, and he slid out and walked toward the glass revolving door, noticing an odd number of paparazzi hanging around. They came to attention when they saw him. One or two even snapped a picture. But neither of those things was unusual. First, the flirtatious daughter of a hedge fund manager lived in his building and she was a tabloid darling. Paparazzi were always around. Second, those who snapped pictures probably wanted a new file photo of him. God knew, there was nothing interesting about him walking into his building alone.
He breezed through the lobby, pausing only to say hello to the doorman. He used his code to get the private elevator to start and in a few seconds the door opened on his penthouse.
The whole place had been done in black and white, with berry-toned throw pillows and accent pieces. He wouldn’t know a berry tone from a hole in the ground, but his decorator had told him that berry colors were all the rage, so that’s what he’d gotten.
