said smoothly. “And don’t tell me that every minute of your life is booked.”
Daisy heard the challenge in his voice. It was just another way of saying, I don’t believe you’re really over me at all. You still want me. And now that you’re divorced you might not believe in that ridiculous “love at first sight” notion anymore. You might be glad for a roll in bed.
And, if it weren’t for Charlie, heaven help her, she might.
“Are you still there? Daisy?” he prompted when she didn’t reply.
She drew a breath. “I might have something next week. Let me check.” It was the only way she could think of to prove to him—and to herself—that she wasn’t a weak-willed fool.
She put the cracker sandwiches on a paper plate, flipped up the latch and slid open the door. Charlie looked up and, at the sight of the plate, grinned and jumped to his feet.
Daisy put a finger to her lips to shush him before he could speak, grateful that she’d taught him almost since he could talk not to blurt things out where people on the phone could hear him. That way, she’d explained, he wouldn’t have to have a babysitter as often if she could take calls as if she were in her office when, in fact, she was at home.
Charlie had learned quickly. Now he stuffed a cracker sandwich into his mouth, then carried the plate back to his trucks. For a moment, Daisy just watched him and felt her heart squeeze with love. Then quietly she slid the door shut and went to look at her appointment book.
“Where in Brooklyn? What sort of photos?” she asked as she flipped through the pages of her day planner.
“Park Slope.” Alex gave her the address. “It’s a pre-war building.”
“I thought you were an architect. Don’t you design new buildings?”
“Not this one. I built this one from the inside out. The outside is pretty much intact, except for the windows. I fixed the windows. The place was in really awful shape and the guy who owned it wanted it removed. He wanted me to put up a new building there. But when I got into it, I couldn’t see tearing it down. Structurally it was sound. And it had some really strong period architectural features. It fit the block, the surroundings. So I made him a deal. I bought it from him and he bought land a couple of miles away. Then I built him what he wanted there, and I kept this one for myself.”
The eagerness and the satisfaction in his voice reminded her of when he’d talked about his hopes for his career. He’d already done some big projects for the company he’d worked for then. But those had been projects he’d been assigned, ones that had been the vision of someone else. Now it sounded like he had taken the reins and was making his own choices, his own decisions.
“Are you your own boss now?” she asked, unable not to.
“For the last five years.” He hesitated, then went on so smoothly she might have imagined the brief pause. “There was never going to be the perfect time to leave, so I just … jumped in.”
“You like it?”
“Couldn’t be happier,” he said. “What about you? You’ve obviously left the guy you were working for.”
“Finn? Yes. And I like what I’m doing, too.”
“You can tell me all about it—if you can see a way to work me into your schedule?”
He made it sound very straightforward. A job. No more. No less. Maybe this really was all business.
Daisy could almost—but not quite—forget the way he’d kissed her. Deliberately she shoved the thought away. “What sort of thing does the writer have in mind?” she asked. “What do they want to feature?”
“Me,” Alex said ruefully. “Up-and-coming architect, blah, blah, blah. I designed a hospital wing—first one I’ve done—and it’s up for some award.”
“That’s great.” And not surprising, really. She imagined that Alex would be good at whatever he did. “Where? Nearby?”
“Upstate a ways. Same side of the river, though,” he added drily. “They used staff photos for that. They want ones of me and of the place in Brooklyn because it’s a new departure for me. So you’d be shooting it now—plenty of awful ‘then’ photos already available. And then they want some of me ‘in my environment.’” His tone twisted the words wryly. “With a pencil protector in my pocket.” She could hear his grin. “Playing with blueprints. I don’t know. You will.”
If she did it. And maybe she should. Maybe it was exactly what she needed to do—learn about the man, demythologize him, turn him into some digital files and eight-by-ten-inch glossies.
“I can spare a bit of time next Thursday afternoon. Say, around three?”
“Great. I’ll pick you up.”
“I’ll meet you. Just give me the address again.” It was business. Just business.
He gave her the address. She wrote it down.
Then he said, “See you Thursday. Bye.”
And he was gone. Just like that.
She had second thoughts. And third. And thirty-third. By the time Saturday rolled around, it was all she could think about.
“So call him and tell him you can’t,” Cal said when he came by to pick up Charlie Saturday morning. Charlie had already given her a smacking kiss goodbye and bolted out the door eager to tell his grandfather about the fire engine they were going to make.
But Cal hadn’t followed him. He was eying her curiously as Daisy told him about Alex’s call and his offer of the photography job. She also admitted to her qualms.
“It’s just … distracting!” She stuck her hands in her hair and tugged.
“Why do it then? Call him up and tell him no.”
“He’ll want to know why.”
“You’re not obliged to tell him.”
“If I don’t, he’ll get suspicious.”
“About what? Is he going to think you’re hiding his son from him?”
“No, of course not. He’ll think—” Daisy hesitated “—that I’m still in love with him. That I don’t trust myself around him.”
“Possible,” Cal agreed. “Or maybe you don’t trust him.”
Maybe she didn’t trust either of them. The attraction was still there on a physical level. She hadn’t told Cal about Alex’s kiss. Or her reaction to it. There were some things better left unsaid. Now she just shrugged. “It’ll be all right,” she murmured.
Cal gave her a long hard look. She tried to remain indifferent under his gaze, but Cal was a photographer, too. He saw things that other people couldn’t see.
“Is it just hormones?” he said at last. “Or something more?”
Daisy flushed,
