Tempted in the City (12 page)

13

T
HE
FOLLOWING
FRIDAY
,
Tony had just finished a walk-through with a new client. The building was in Chinatown, five stories, with a commercial property on the ground floor and apartments above. The new owners, a group of young real estate flippers based in Connecticut, wanted him to make the top four floors into high-end condos and redo the commercial space so they could charge four times the rent. But they were hagglers, new to Paladino & Sons, and Tony's big decision was whether the money was worth the annoyance he and his crews would have to put up with.

They left the building and stood on the street, five young hotshots ready to become the next “real estate moguls,” and him with his touch-pad spreadsheet and enough impatience to walk away if they called themselves that one more time.

“Look, I'll send you a bid. If you like it, fine. If not, that's fine, too.”

“You do know this could be the first of many jobs for your family operation,” said the shortest one with the four-hundred-dollar haircut and enough attitude to fill Madison Square Garden.

“It's possible,” he said slowly, watching their smug expressions dim. “We're booked through next year, but maybe I could bring in a few more subcontractors.”

“We don't want the shit end of the work pool.”

“No one who subcontracts for us is second best. It's hard as hell to be on our wait list.”

“Mambo Italiano” rang out from his cell phone, and he had no compunctions about leaving the party with a quick, “Anything else?” He gave them a few seconds to respond. When no one did, he smiled. “I'll get the bid to you next week,” he said, before he crossed the street and answered the phone. “Catherine?”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. In fact, I was just going to call you.”

“Oh.” The smile in her voice made him smile along with her. “You go first.”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Uh, working on the house.”

“Can I get you to change your mind?”

“Depends.” She laughed. “Yes, of course. Tell me what you're thinking.”

He started walking again, a definite lift in his step. “I'd like you to pack a bag for an overnight stay, and be ready to go early tomorrow morning. Around eight. Casual clothes. Plus something nice, just in case.”

“Wait a minute. You can't— You have to tell me more than that.”

“Why? Don't you trust me?”

Her silence lasted long enough to give him second thoughts. “I'm not actually that good with surprises.”

“Okay,” he said, disappointed, but anxious for her to just say yes. He was already looking forward to getting out of the city, away from his family, her work, his work. “I'm—”

“No, stop. You don't have to tell me anything.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I do trust you, Tony.”

He'd been teasing. The trip would be their first real time to get away from the strictures of pretense, the hiding and the nonsense from the neighbors. It had little to do with trust. But something about the quietly spoken words got to him. “You won't be sorry.”

“I already know that.” Her smile was back. “So, I'll be ready by eight.”

“Perfect. Wish I could see you tonight, but, well, I've got my cousin's thing and—”

“I know. But it'll give me a chance to look at some wallpaper and get to sleep at a good hour.”

“We're all set, then.” He saw his next appointment, Mr. Diamond, standing outside his store a few doors away. “How about we meet at the Canal Street subway at Broadway?”

“Perfect. I can't wait,” she said.

“Me, neither.” As soon as they disconnected, he realized she hadn't told him why she'd called.

* * *

T
ONY
GOT
TO
the subway entrance early. He hated that he couldn't pick her up at her place, but it would defeat the purpose of sneaking away if everyone saw them walking together, her with an overnight bag in hand. Nothing was going to spoil this trip. Having her all to himself, no distractions, no Dom barging in. Tony still hadn't gotten over that one.

He saw her walking up the stairs and he raced down to meet her, taking her suitcase before he gave her a quick kiss. For some reason he hadn't expected her to wear jeans, a T-shirt and a light jacket, even though it was perfect attire for what promised to be a warm spring day.

“You're early,” she said.

“So are you. Come on,” he said, touching the small of her back. “It's only a short walk.”

“We're staying in SoHo?”

“Not even close. But we are making a quick stop before we head out.”

The Park-It was only a block away, and he was a little too excited to show her the car he'd borrowed for the trip.

“You own a cherry-red Mustang?”

“No, but I did make a friend who would let me borrow his.”

She grinned. “How clever of you.”

“Always thinking ahead.” When he popped the trunk, he almost pointed out the elaborate sound system mounted in the trunk, but he held back.

Once they were both settled inside the car, he was ready to head straight for the I-95, but Catherine wanted coffee and that sounded like a great idea. They hit the first coffee place they saw, but she had to go in while he double parked. Having a car in New York sucked. But soon enough they were on their way out of the city.

“Are you going to tell me where we're going?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, what if I guess?”

“I'll tell you the truth if you get it right.”

“Can I ask questions?”

“Sure you can.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then laughed. “I can ask but you won't answer.”

Tony just smiled.

Catherine turned in her seat, so she was looking more at him than the road ahead. “Will you tell me if I'm hot or cold?”

“You're always hot.”

“Good answer. Is it an hour away?”

“Cold.”

“Half an hour?” she asked, her voice as innocent as a child's, but he was onto her.

“Colder, and no you can't go through every time on the clock.”

“Not fair,” she said, and pouted just enough to make him want to kiss her.

“You're right. Let's get creative. After we get to the interstate, all right?”

“Absolutely. Which interstate?”

“I-95.”

She was quiet, and he looked over to find her frowning. “That's not helpful at all. I have no idea where that goes.”

Tony smiled. This was the best idea he'd had in years. Except for a brand-new idea that popped into his head. There was a gas station up ahead, and he turned into it but didn't park by the pumps. Instead, he stopped the car at the far end of the lot, where they could have some privacy.

“Is something wrong with the car?”

He undid his seat belt and turned to her. “What's wrong is that I haven't had a single real kiss. That's not going to work.”

“I couldn't agree more,” she said, her voice turning to a whisper as he cupped her neck and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

She met him halfway and the moment he touched her lips with his own he felt better. He hadn't felt stressed, yet muscles relaxed all the way down his back.

A single touch of her tongue on his lower lip changed the soft caress into something wilder, although he couldn't forget where they were. But just because it had to be brief didn't mean it wasn't great. It thrilled him, as always, when he heard her pleasure in a whimper, when she ran her fingers through the back of his hair.

A horn honked, breaking the mood very effectively, but when he turned to look at the bastard who'd interrupted, he saw it wasn't about them at all.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much. Need anything before we continue?”

“I don't know,” she said, pausing, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Do I?”

Tony laughed. “Very sneaky. Good to know that about you early in the—” His brain shorted. He'd almost said
relationship
. This was it for them. Several stolen weeks, maybe even months, but that was all he could see for them. There was still a very good chance Catherine wouldn't stick around. Damn, he hoped he hadn't spooked her.

But no, she just looked at him, her lips curving up in a beautiful, soft smile.

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
they hit the interstate, Catherine had finished her coffee and had talked more about her work, and what it had taken to get assigned to the New York office. It was so easy with Tony. His interest was real, which made a huge difference, and she shared his enthusiasm to use their time in the car to get to know all kinds of safe things about each other. Like his most memorable vacations and what sports he'd played in high school. She loved every second of it, but she hadn't forgotten his earlier suggestion about getting creative.

“Okay,” she said, “I think we should do what you suggested and stop talking about such ordinary things.”

“I did say that, didn't I?” He gave her a look she thought was him making a decision, but as usual, she wasn't 100 percent sure.

“How about,” he said, “some truth or dare?”

“Really? The kids' game?”

“It's only a kids' game if children are playing.”

“Ah, but I don't have much in the way of illicit secrets.”

He reached over the console and took her hand in his. “I don't care if they're illicit. I just want to use this time wisely. You fascinate me, Ms. Fox.”

“So, shouldn't we just be playing truth?”

His laugh made her warm inside. “Okay. Truth it is. You get the first question.”

“Brave boy. Um, give me a second. There are a lot of things I want to ask.” She squeezed his hand, and got more courageous when he squeezed back. “Okay. Why didn't you and your ex have kids?”

He coughed. “Whoa. You don't mess around.”

“If it's too personal—”

“It's not,” he said. “We agreed. Truth. I wanted children right away, but Angie didn't. She wanted to pursue other interests before becoming a mom.”

“Other interests?”

“She tried her hand at a few things. Writing. Painting. But she ended up becoming a personal chef in Tribeca. She and a friend from writing class went into business together. It's pretty successful, considering the competition.”

“Wow, good for her. Does she specialize in Italian cooking?”

“Nope. Healthy eating. She knows every diet plan in the world, so it suits her. Besides, I think it was her way of thumbing her nose at my mother, who never let her forget she wasn't the best Italian cook.”

“Interesting,” Catherine said. “And you didn't mind putting off the children?”

“Not at all. And I didn't care if she wanted to work after we had kids. Although my attitude didn't go over very big with her family. Or mine. You've seen they live in a time warp.”

“I'm getting that, more and more. Although it seems your generation is quite different.”

“Yeah. I agree. But that's been a mixed blessing. A lot of the people I went to school with have moved out. Mostly to Jersey or Queens, but I know a number of people who moved out of state. Even Dominic wants to move uptown. Get away from the old neighborhood. He's pretty determined to see how far his wings can spread.”

“Modeling?”

“Nah. He uses his looks, but he wouldn't want that to be the basis of his success. And I believe it's way past my turn.”

“Shoot.”

He changed lanes, then settled in again, still holding on to her hand. “Why aren't you married?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“One I don't know the answer to. You're gorgeous, smart, confident, engaging. I can't imagine men aren't lining up. That guy who wants to take you to that dinner, for example. He's exactly the kind of man I imagine you with. Not some blue-collar contractor like me.”

Catherine studied him, taken aback not just by his description of her, but by his perception of himself. “I can say the exact same thing about you.”

“You kind of already did the other night.”

“Oh.” She remembered. Not quite the same, but okay. “Anyway, I'm not married because I haven't been with anyone I loved enough.”

“But you've been in love?”

“That's a new question, and I get to ask mine next.”

“Right, yes,” he said. “Go for it. This is pretty interesting.”

“How old were you the first time you had sex?”

He laughed. “I didn't see that one coming, either. I was fifteen. She was seventeen.”

Catherine turned just a little bit more, wanting to see as much of his face as she could. “What's the age of consent in New York?”

“We were both within the law.”

“Were you nervous?”

“Of course. I was fifteen. She was hot, and she made me swear to God I wouldn't tell anyone. And believe me, at that age, keeping that secret was far more difficult than it sounds. I think you're the first person I've told.”

“No. What about your brothers?”

“I wouldn't have trusted them with something like that. Besides, they were just kids.”

“Huh. Was it a one-time thing or did you keep seeing her?”

“Hold up, Sherlock,” he said, raising his brows at her. “I think you're way over the question limit.”

“I know, but it's so much fun.”

“Well, let's see how much fun it is when you're answering the same question.”

“God, I was eighteen. I didn't have great feelings about the guy I was with, I just didn't want to be a virgin anymore.”

“Who was he?”

“He was studying math at Howard while I was getting my undergraduate work done at Georgetown. We were at a party together, and we went back to my dorm room and did the deed.”