Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3) (17 page)

“Holy moly, hotsy totsy. He must really want to get in your panties.” She gestures at my dress. “Good thing you’re making it easy for him. That’ll make him happy.”

“I’d slap you right now, but you’re pregnant.” I step forward and give her a hug instead.

“I prefer this anyway.” She rubs my back. “You have fun, okay? Don’t worry about James. I’ll handle his bossy butt, don’t you worry.”

I laugh as I release her. “I’m sure you will.” I look her in the eye so she’ll know how much I mean my next words. “I’m really glad I have you in my corner. And I’m glad James has you too. He really needed you to come into his life when you did.”

“You’re telling me. I finally met that hag he was dating before. What a piece of work she is.”

My eyes widen. “You did? What happened?” This might be worth being late to dinner over. To say I wasn’t a fan of that wench would be an understatement, but unlike my bossy brother James, I never stuck my nose into his business and told him she was wrong for him.

Leah turns to the elevator and presses the button. “I’ll tell you over lunch. Are you free tomorrow?”

I grab my coat just inside my front door and lock up, hurrying to join her at the elevator. “I’ll get free for you. Just text me the details of where and when you want to meet.”

She waits for me to get in and then releases the hold button, sending us down to the lobby. “Fair warning; I’m going to invite James.”

I frown, my mood instantly deflating. “I’m not coming.”

“Yes, you are. I’m inviting him so we can all talk and get this over with.” She sighs, shaking her head. “So much time wasted on being silly. I never realized how awesome having a brother could be until I met Ralph. I don’t want to waste a single moment where he’s concerned. You guys are lucky. You’ve known each other your whole lives; but that doesn’t mean you get to be stupid and throw that relationship to the side whenever it gets difficult.”

I stare at her as she watches the elevator light up the next lowest floor. I could swear sometimes I hear a ghost speaking from her lips. “You remind me so much of Laura.”

“Really?” Leah grins at me. “That’s a high compliment.”

“It is.” I smile, looking at our reflection in the elevator doors. “She was awesome. Very insightful.”

“Boo says I’m like her, but on crack.”

I have to laugh at that. He’s right. But that nickname… “I can’t believe you call him Boo.” It’s so completely crazy. Who would look at my brother, the most put together, serious, brainiac butthead in the world, and see a
Boo
? Only Leah, that’s who. She’s perfect for him. I can’t wait to see how their baby turns out.

We reach the lobby and walk across it to the front doors together. Leah throws the end of her scarf over her shoulder and smiles at me. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks.” I’m nervous all over again. Dammit. I’m probably sprouting another pimple.

“And whatever you do, don’t worry about what James will think or say. He doesn’t matter in this equation. It’s just you and Rob. One plus one equals One.”

I hold the door open for her and give her the first cab that comes by. As I close the door on her, she smiles and gives me a thumbs up through the window. I’m still laughing when I get into my cab and head over to one of the swankiest restaurants in Manhattan to meet the man of my dreams.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ROB IS WAITING FOR ME at the bar. I’d recognize the shape and breadth of his shoulders anywhere. His hair looks freshly cut. I wonder if he did that for me. He doesn’t see me at first, so I take a few seconds to ogle. If I didn’t know him and just happened to see him as a stranger from across the room, I’d do the same thing — stare like some kind of creeper. There’s just something about him that draws my eye, makes me want to get to know him, makes me wonder what’s going on inside that head of his. His profile shows off his strong jaw and his nose with the bump in it from a sports accident of some sort. My brother has teased him about it for years, always offering to fix it for him. My heart fills with warmth as Rob turns to look at me and his eyes light up in recognition.

I’ve walked on heels since I was fifteen, but you’d never know it as I try to make my way across the room. I trip not once, but twice, on invisible bumps in the floor. For my second one, I’m just a foot away from my destination. Rob’s arm comes out to catch me, and I land against his side.

The ice in his glass chinks around as he steadies us both. “Well, hello there,” he says, amused. “That’s one way to make an entrance.”

“Oh my god,” I say, my face beet red. “I’ve forgotten how to walk, I guess.”

“Are you sure you’re not just making a move on me?”

I stand on my own power and smile, praying he can’t see my zits. I’m afraid I rubbed off some of my cream on his jacket, but the lighting is too low to know for sure. “Please. I have to believe I’m smoother than that.”

He signals the bartender and then looks at me. “What’ll you have?”

You in my bed?

“Umm, how about some white wine. Whatever’s good.” My face is still flushed. Now that I’m finally here on a date with my dream-guy, it feels like I’ve left the real world and entered one of my daydreams. How many have I created over the years? A hundred? Two hundred. No, not even close. It’s probably more like a thousand.

He orders for me and hands me the glass, lifting his own at the same time. “Here’s to first dates, as awkward as they are.”

I touch my glass to his. “Here’s hoping I get more coordinated as the night goes on.”

I nearly choke on my wine when he winks at me and says, “I’ll drink to that.”

As he sips his whiskey, I look around the room in an effort to stop staring at him. Every other time in my life when I’ve stood next to him, I’ve been chatting about inane stuff, or commenting about some family matter or something my brothers might have done. But now we’re together because we’re mutually interested in seeing whether we can have any kind of relationship that doesn’t focus on or feature my brothers in any way. I feel like I’m about to have a stroke. I have no idea what to say or what to talk about.

“You ready to sit at a table?” he asks. He’s all calm and collected, showing no sign of being freaked out. I think they taught him that skill in law school or something.

My eyes dart around the room as I take in all the people having quiet conversations, the tall ceilings going up to forever, the waiters bustling around serving up food people will talk about for years after leaving… and I just can’t picture it. I can’t picture me sitting there with Rob and having our first date.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, putting his hand on my elbow.

“Nothing.” My voice comes out really high, so I rein it in and try again. “Nothing. I’m fine. Why would you ask me that? Don’t I look fine?” I reach up and almost touch my chin, but stop myself just in time and touch my hair instead, patting the side of it. That’s all I need to do is call his attention to the pimple factory. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my own skin as I do right now.

Rob touches my cheek with one finger and then pulls it away. “Jana. I’ve known you forever. I know your panicked look when I see it.”

I war within myself over whether I should be honest and admit what I’m feeling or fake it until I make it. And in this case,
make it
could mean have an actual panic attack and run from the room screaming or just stumble my way through dinner the way I did my entrance. Either way, it’s not going to be pretty.

“Come on,” he says all of a sudden. “Let’s get out of here.” He puts his drink on the bar top.

“What?” I’m confused.

He takes my wine glass, puts it next to his tumbler, and then throws forty bucks after it. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to eat here.” He starts leading me toward the exit.

“What do you mean?” I look up at him, worried he’s angry or changing his mind about being with me. Were my pimples that horrible that they completely put him off the idea of being with me? I knew I should have bought more cover-up.

“This was a bad idea. Coming here. I should have kept it more low-key.”

“Low key, like… as friends?” I hate how weepy my voice sounds.

He stops all of a sudden, making me crash into the back of him. When he turns around his eyes have a crazy look to them.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

He looks as sick as I felt thinking it. I smile and squeeze his hand. “Ignore me. I’m nervous.” And now I’m flying on a cloud! Because I can tell from his expression that he wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. Or he wants to be with me as more than a friend, at least. I can build on that. Hell, I’ve built an entire imaginary life as his wife, spent years perfecting that vision. I can do this.

“I know, and it’s my fault. This restaurant will be great for our fifth date, but not our first.” He stops at the front and retrieves our coats and scarves.

He said fifth date! Weeee!

“Where are we going?” I ask, excited about the change of venue. He’s right. This place is too stuffy for us right now. Not that I know the right place for us on our first date. And he said fifth date! Weeeee again!

“Just trust me.” He stops just before walking out the door. “You trust me, don’t you?”

I nod, taking his hand and folding my fingers through his. “Yes. I trust you with everything.”

He leans down and kisses me just to the left of my mouth. “Good.” He turns toward the exit and lifts his hand, like he’s going to push the door open.

I stop him with a hand on his sleeve.

He looks down at me, a bemused smile on his face.

“Try that again,” I say, staring at his lips.

“Try what again?”

“That kiss. I think you missed.”

I can tell the exact moment that he gets what I’m after. His eyes go warm and he turns toward me, a hand coming up to touch the side of my face. He leans down and I catch a whiff of whiskey on his breath before his lips are fully pressed against mine.

My heart soars and my head nearly explodes with the feelings that rush through me the moment we touch. His lips fit so perfectly against mine. I expected awkwardness. Fumbling around. A banging of noses and teeth. But none of that happens. Instead, his tongue comes out to slide across my bottom lip a second before he pulls away. It’s way more amazing than I ever dreamed it could be.

“That better?” he asks me.

I nod dumbly afraid if I try to speak it’ll just come out as a disjointed flow of random syllables.

He frowns. “I can do better. I promise.”

I smile as he pushes the door open and a blast of winter air hits us. I can’t feel the cold right now, though. I’m impervious to its effects. Rob’s kiss has warmed me all the way down to my toes, and I’m pretty sure I’m not even walking on the pavement right now. Every step I take feels like I’m floating an inch above everyone else’s feet. No man’s kiss has ever made me feel this way. I’m almost afraid of what will happen when he really gets his hands on me.

Sex with Rob! Ahhh! I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole and I never want to come out!

“Taxi!” Rob adds a whistle to his call and a cab zooms from the other lane to reach us.

As we settle into our seats, the cabbie looks into his mirror. “Where to?”

Rob speaks up without hesitation. “Times Square. Stardust Diner.”

I sit back in the seat, eagerly awaiting my first adventure with Rob. I have no idea what this diner is all about, but so long as he’s there and he kisses me again, I’m all for it.

Rob’s fingers weave in with mine and we rest our hands on the seat between us. I cannot stop grinning the entire way across the city.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

THERE’S A LINE OUTSIDE THE Stardust diner that looks like any other restaurant of its kind. Usually when I see a group of people waiting to get inside a place, I turn around and head the other direction, especially when it’s cold out. Tonight, it’s a different matter altogether. Time spent in line is more time for Rob to kiss me. We take our places at the back of the group and stand, face to face. Rob wraps his arms around my waist and smiles at me.

“Have you ever been here before?”

“No.” I glance at the people next to me. They seem pretty excited, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because of the restaurant or the fact that they’re tourists seeing Times Square for the first time.

“I think you’ll like it.”

The way he says it makes me suspicious. “Are there Chippendale dancers in there or something?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “What makes you think I frequent a diner that has half-naked men dancing around inside it?”

“Good point. But the way you said it… the way you asked me. You looked sneaky.”

He adjusts his arms around me, bringing me a little closer. “Sneaky. I’m not sneaky. I’m the opposite of sneaky.”

“Says who?” A glimmer of our recent history tries to sneak into my brain, but I tamp it down. I can’t think of Cassie tonight; it’ll ruin everything.

“Says anyone who’s ever known me. I’ve tried my whole life to keep secrets and it never works. The truth is always written all over my face. That’s why I mostly do contract law. I’d be slain in court.”

I stare at that face he claims is an open book and shake my head. “Sorry. Nope. I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.”

His expression changes to something more serious. “Why is it that the person who’s actually seen my face more than almost anyone else is the one least able to read it?”

I shrug. “I have no idea. Maybe I’m just bad at it.”

He sighs. “Or maybe I’ve spent way too much energy trying to keep things from you over the years and I’ve gotten really good at it.”

“What do you mean?” My voice has gone soft because it feels like I’m about to hear a confession of sorts. I don’t want to discourage him; we both need to clear the air about a few things before we can move forward. I’m just not sure the line for the Stardust Diner is the best place for all of that. A glance to my left tells me we’re about two parties behind the front of the line.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asks.

“How could I forget?” My cheeks start to burn with the admission, but I can’t stop smiling. Tonight will be a night of taking risks, telling truths that have stayed hidden for a really long time.