I guess congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you. She’s a great girl.” The way he figured it, he’d start traveling soon for Voss and give Adriana a wide berth. She’d never find out the truth.
“That’s great. I’d love to get to know her better. Why don’t you bring her to the house this weekend for a dinner party we’re having?”
Oh, hell. “I’m not sure she’s free.”
Adriana’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you can just come.”
Not on your life, barracuda. “We’ll see what we have going on.”
“You do that.”
By the time he made his escape, Bennett felt on edge, his skin tight. He needed to get out and shoot. Then he’d feel better. He could take all this shit off-line and breathe for a minute. Thanks to Val, who was a surprisingly good kisser, he’d had a sleepless night on Sunday. And yesterday hadn’t been much better. He’d had a catalog shoot in the park, but he hadn’t been into it at all. He needed to get his headspace back and away from the two women who were occupying far too much of it.
After a quick subway hop home, he jogged inside just in time to catch the elevator doors as they were closing. “Hey, hold that a second.”
The person inside fumbled with something, but Bennett got to the door and held it open just before it closed. Only to find Valentine on the phone and carrying two large grocery bags from the Fresh and Ready on the corner.
She blinked dark eyes up at him, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. How had he never noticed how cute she was before? She was a tiny little thing. Nearly a foot smaller than he was. That put her maybe around five feet three inches, give or take. Her skin was luminescent. Dark and smooth, it reminded him of liquid milk chocolate. Another woman’s voice rang in the elevator. “I swear, Valentine, you have to go to these events. You can’t just turn up for the wedding. You’re needed for the shower, and the rehearsal.”
She was talking on speaker, the phone on top of the groceries.
“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay?”
“No, not okay. And can you please tell me if James is coming for sure so I can do the place settings? You have been dodging me for months with this. They are going to the engravers tomorrow and I need to know. And while we’re at it...”
As the other woman droned on, Valentine’s gaze pinned to his and the current of electricity nearly poleaxed him. Hell. He needed to get it together. He pushed their floor number again and scooted in next to her.
“Mom, please, let me just—”
“I swear, Valentine, it’s like you don’t want to spend any time with your family. Let’s not forget that you agreed to be part of this wedding, and you living on your own like a recluse in the city, it’s just—”
“Mom, please. I will call you back.”
“You always say that, then I have to chase you down. I mean, that vagabond life you live. Why can’t you just use your economics degree and get a job in finance? Or even better, find a man in finance so that you don’t have to work. Not like being a blogger is work, mind you.”
Bennett shouldn’t have been listening. Really. He should have been paying attention to the numbers on the elevator as they went floor by floor. But he was riveted. He watched her face, dying to know how she’d shut down her mother. To be fair, her gaze never left his, either.
“Mom. I love you. I have to go.” She tried to use her chin to end the call, but that just sent the bag of groceries tipping over.
With a curse, she tried to recover and the sound of the tearing bag echoed over the walls. Bennett dived for the falling phone and milk. Valentine wobbled in her heels. He saved the milk but not the phone. And not the other bag that followed as Val grabbed for her phone.
Oranges and other fruit rolled onto the floor as a bottle of wine skidded out of her hold.
The good news was, the woman on the phone stopped haranguing her daughter. The bad news was as Val stared at the contents of her bags on the floor, her eyes welled with tears.
Shit. Bennett had a lot of experience with women. A lot. Yes, he was a bit of a man whore. But one thing he was not comfortable with were tears. She just looked so vulnerable, he wanted to tuck her in for a hug. What the hell is wrong with you?
When the elevator doors slid open on their floor, he hit the stop button. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
He let himself in to his apartment and grabbed his grocery bags. When he came back in less than a minute, Valentine was desperately trying to gather all her things into her arms.
“Here you go.”
She shook her head stiffly. “I think my humiliation is complete. Thank you. But you don’t have to help me. I got this. I can do it.”
He merely shrugged. “Everyone needs help sometimes.” When he had retrieved the last of the wayward fruit, including some spiked yellow thing he couldn’t identify, he stood tall. “Go on, I’m right behind you.”
Her phone started to ring on the floor again, and she picked it up but didn’t look at it. Just shoved it into her pocket. “Thank you,” she muttered. Then she let him into her apartment.
To say he was surprised would have been an understatement. Sure, he’d seen glimpses of her sheer white curtains but he figured given her stiffness, she’d have a sterile beige kind of place. He couldn’t be more wrong. Everywhere he turned there was color. Bold and bright. All seamlessly blended together.
“You got it from here?” he asked as she put the bags on the counter.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about the elevator. I’m sort of mortified.”
“It happens. Everyone has a bad day from time to time.”
“’Kay. Well, see you.”
He debated not asking for her help. But as he was here and he needed a hand, too, he might as well. “Okay, so about the other night.”
She shook her head. “Oh, we are not doing this conversation. I’m pretending it didn’t happen.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the thing. That woman I was with—that’s my boss’s wife.”
She gasped. “You two were...cozy.”
“Yeah, not to my liking. I told her you and I were together to get her off my case, but now she wants to have the two of us for dinner at her place. And given what I heard on the phone, I think maybe the two of us can help each other out.”
For one long beat, she stared at him. “You realize this, right here, is the longest conversation we’ve ever had with each other?”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is you don’t even know me. But you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
“Fiancée, actually.”
A
