New Year, New Man. Laura IdingЧитать онлайн книгу.
against the entry door, holding it open as Brandon Delaney jogged up the building steps toward her, wearing heavy running pants, a winter-weight hoodie and cross-trainers, his cap on backward.
Once he cleared the door, she let it swing shut. He was panting pretty hard, his handsome face red, his blond hair sweaty where it stuck out from under the cap.
“When did you get back?” he asked between breaths.
“Sunday.”
“Good trip?”
“It was terrific, thanks.” She flashed him a smile, wondering how he knew she’d been gone. She hadn’t told him she was going away for Thanksgiving. Maybe Ed, the super, had mentioned her trip, or Viviana Nichols, who lived in the larger apartment on her floor, might have said something to him.
Flashing her a broad smile that showed off a dental hygienist’s dream of straight, brilliantly white teeth, Brandon reached for her groceries. “Here. Let me carry those for you.”
Okay. Weird. Brandon had been avoiding her for a couple of weeks, ever since she’d put that pitiful excuse for a move on him. Why was he suddenly so friendly now?
Then again, what did it matter why he was being nice? If he wanted to carry her stuff, wonderful.
The elevator had stopped up on five. Rather than wait for it, they took the stairs. Lucy’s apartment was on the third floor. As they trudged up the two flights, he said, “I had no idea that you knew the prince.”
He knew she knew Dami? She was certain she’d never told him that.
On second thought, it probably wasn’t such a stretch that he would know. Pictures of her and Dami were not only all over the internet but they had made a few of the tabloids, too. Brandon could have seen them. “Yes. We’re good friends.”
“Wow.” He shook his head. “Amazing. Thanksgiving at the Prince’s Palace. That must have been something.”
“How did you know I was in Montedoro?”
“Marie. She had a copy of the National Enquirer. She showed me the pictures of you and the prince. You know how she is....”
Marie Dobronsky, the super’s wife, was a sweet woman. She did like to gossip, however. Lucy made a mental note not to be so chatty with Marie in the future.
They reached the second floor and started up to the third. Brandon said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him here— I mean, I heard that he does own the building. Is that right?”
“Yes, he does,” she said, and left it at that. They reached her floor. Brandon fell in behind her as she approached her door. “Thanks. You can just set the bags down. I’ll take it from here.”
“Oh, come on. Let me carry them in for you.”
She started to refuse—but wait a minute. A week ago she would have been walking on air to have Brandon carrying her groceries for her. “Hey, if you insist...” She unlocked the door and ushered him in first, pointing down the short hall that opened into her small living room and the kitchen beyond. “That way.”
He carried the bags in and set them on the retro chrome-and-red laminate table she’d found on eBay. “This is nice.” He took off his cap and looked around her tiny narrow kitchen, which had a small skinny window with a view of a brick wall. Her cat, Boris, sat in that window, watching them with a bored expression on his broad face. Brandon turned his blinding white smile her way again. “We should catch up. Let’s go get coffee or something.”
Coffee. He wanted to get a coffee with her....
Last Wednesday she would have traded her Juki serger sewing machine for a chance to get a coffee with Brandon. But after Dami, well, Brandon somehow wasn’t giving her the familiar thrill.
And that totally annoyed her.
The whole point of convincing Dami to teach her about sex had been to become more experienced, more sophisticated—not to lose all interest in Brandon, who was a good part of the reason she’d asked for Dami’s help in the first place.
Uh-uh. No way was she turning down a coffee with Brandon. Even if she didn’t want to go. “How about the diner on the corner? But I need to put this food away first.”
“I’ll grab a shower, be back for you in twenty.”
* * *
Lucy loved the Paradise Diner. It was owned by a Greek family, the Mustos, and served the usual diner fare, burgers and fries, meat loaf and mashed potatoes, coffee and pie—plus a few Greek specialties. The cook, Nestor, was a little scary. Sometimes he shouted through the service window in Greek. The waitresses treated Lucy like one of the family. There was just something so homey and comfortable about the Paradise. Lucy ate there every chance she got.
While she’d been out of town, they’d decorated for the holidays, painting the windows with Christmas greetings, hanging fat gold garland everywhere, putting up an artificial tree by the cash register and an almost-life-size crèche in the corner by the door.
She and Brandon took a booth and ordered coffee and pie. Brandon talked about the auditions he’d been on and the part he thought he was sure to get in an upcoming off-Broadway show. And his agent was pushing him to fly out to L.A. and audition for a major role in a new sitcom. Yeah, it was just television. But a guy had to eat.
And then he leaned closer. “Come on, Lucy. Are you sure you and Prince Damien aren’t having a thing?”
She laughed at that. “Like I said, we’re just friends.” It caused a distinct ache in her heart to say those words. Maybe more of an ache than she’d bargained for. “He’s always been good to me, that’s all.”
“‘Good to you.’” Brandon arched a golden eyebrow. “I could take that any number of ways.”
What was that supposed to mean? She didn’t even want to know. “Why should you take it any way? Sheesh, Brandon. Are you writing a book or something?”
He gave her that blinding white smile again, the one that just a couple of weeks ago could rock her world. “I’m an actor. It’s my job to understand what makes people tick—and ‘always’? You said he’s ‘always’ been good to you. Does that mean you’ve known him since childhood?”
Pushy. There was no other word for the way Brandon was behaving. And in any case, she just didn’t feel comfortable discussing Dami with a casual acquaintance. Privacy mattered to Dami, to all the Bravo-Calabrettis. She doubted Brandon would go running to the tabloids with something she said. But still.
She said, “He’s a friend of the family.”
Brandon wouldn’t quit. “I saw somewhere, I think, that your brother is marrying his sister Princess Alice.”
“Yes,” she answered with zero inflection. “They’re very happy together.”
He gave her a sly look from those golden-brown eyes she used to drool over. “Lucy, you are turning out to be a very big surprise.”
And that had her feeling defensive somehow. “I’m the same person I was before.”
“Well, yeah. But I just didn’t know...” He was looking at her so intently, his gaze tracking from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes again. “God. Was I blind or what?”
Flirting. Omigod. Brandon Delaney was flirting with her. He was flirting with her and she didn’t even care. In fact, it was kind of depressing that he was interested now and she felt nothing but vaguely annoyed with him. “Brandon, eat your pie.”
He went on looking at her in that teasingly intimate way. “I want to spend more time with you.”
She couldn’t resist reminding him, “But I’m so innocent, remember? And you’ve got no time for me, because acting is your life.”
He leaned his chin on his fist and gave her the long, lingering,