He stopped at a traffic light and looked up. He could see her building from where he stood. Images of how she’d looked in the early morning as she’d slept were clear in his mind. He’d hated to leave, but he’d had to, and he’d needed time to clear his mind, to think about what had happened and how they’d gotten to the point of making love. The day had progressed, but he had not. He was no closer to thinking about her without emotion than he was to lassoing the moon.
The light changed and he was rushing along with the crowd. They had no definite plans, although they’d texted each other several times during the last few hours. He thought of buying her flowers and wine and bringing them to her, but changed his mind, feeling she was someone who would see his uncertainty through the sentiment. And despite how André was feeling, in the back of his mind, he still wondered if she was like the other women who’d come and gone in his life.
Dinner, he thought. She’d cooked for him yesterday. Maybe tonight they could go to a restaurant. But he’d rather spend the night in her arms.
Susan was in the lobby when he arrived. He went directly to her, with his arms outstretched. She walked into them and he felt his arousal begin. She stepped back.
“I know we didn’t make any plans, but a friend told me about a Cuban jazz club that’s not far from here,” she said.
“Great, we can grab something to eat and go there.”
André couldn’t remember what they had eaten. She was easy to talk to, and he was the one who talked. He felt nervous for no reason and accorded that to why he spoke so often. He’d never been affected by a woman the way he was by Susan. After he slept with a woman, he usually became more comfortable. But with her, the opposite was true.
He told her things about his childhood, about growing up with his brothers, about his aunt and uncle dying and their sons coming to live with them. About David and Blake getting married within two years. He wanted to tell her everything—wanted her to know him.
And he wanted to know her, but as he was about to ask her a question, it was time to go to the jazz club. The music was hot and loud, making it impossible to speak normally. People danced at their seats and joined the performers by beating out rhythms on the wooden tables.
When they eventually left, the sound on the street was dull in comparison. When another couple passed between them, he caught Susan’s hand and kept it in his.
“What did you think?” she asked.
“It was fun. Something I haven’t done before.” He laughed, knowing there were so few things he hadn’t done.
“Have you ever been to any of the islands?”
“Several. We used to go there for spring break every year.”
“Bypassing Fort Lauderdale?”
“So old-school,” he teased. “And the pretty brown girls were on the islands.”
Susan looked at him and laughed. Just being with her made him feel different. He didn’t want to do anything but make her happy.
“You were lucky. I spent my spring break working.”
“What did you do?”
“I laid hardwood flooring.”
“You didn’t,” he said, feeling sure she was kidding.
“I did. It paid more than working in an office and helped me buy my first car. And, in the long run, I learned a lot about wood. When I started my framing business, that knowledge came in handy.”
“Did you make your own frames?” His question was facetious.
“I did,” she answered before he could tell her not to. “The first one, I tried to carve all those little intricate curves. Way too ambitious a project to begin. I tend to do that. It’s a weakness.”
“Who told you that?”
“My mother, my father, my sisters, Jerome—practically everyone.”
They laughed.
“So, is the store an ambitious project?”
“Well, you saw what I was doing there.”
André stopped and faced her. “You were doing a very good job. Jessica loved that you were innovative. She said you were the best sales associate she’d ever had.”
“I know.”
Even though their hands were still linked, Susan looked at the ground before returning her gaze to him. “I already told you why I couldn’t stay there. No one said anything, but I know the talk had begun.”
“You’re not afraid of a little talk?”
“André, I’m not you. I don’t crave attention.”
“You think I crave attention?”
She stared at him for a moment. “Look at your record. A different pretty woman every other week, a love-’em-and-leave-’em attitude. A fourth-date rule.”
“None of that is true,” he said.
“We’ve been over this before,” she said.
“What if I’ve changed?”
André hadn’t intended to say that. He had said a lot of things to Susan that he’d never say to anyone else.
“You think you’ve changed?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Maybe you’ll know if we get to the fourth date.”
Chapter 7
Tonight was it—their fourth date. André never counted dates. It just so happened that women began getting serious about dating by then. Was it always the fourth? How did Susan know that? He knew he wasn’t the type to let things go further if he knew there was no future. But what about Susan? He had changed when it came to her. He was willing to open his heart, but he still had reservations. She was such a mystery.
He knew so little about her. She didn’t appear to be like the other women he’d dated, but he couldn’t be sure. She lived in a luxurious apartment. Her clothes carried designer labels. She’d received a fire-insurance settlement that didn’t support a rebuild of her business under Midwestern standards. So how could it support a Manhattan apartment with a panoramic view? Who was supporting her? Was she like all of the others?
Maybe the ball he’d invited her to would provide the answer one way or the other. It would be their fourth date, if someone was counting.
He was going to find out—tonight.
After picking up a brush, André put the final touches on his hair. Perfect, he thought, straightening his tie in front of the bedroom mirror. Could a person be too perfect? So far Susan had everything he was looking for in a woman. But was it real? Doubt and indecision clouded his judgement. There were so many inconsistencies in her, yet they didn’t distract from her, but made him want to pursue her more. André couldn’t force the voice in his head saying there was something wrong to be quiet. Was it him? Had he been closed to relationships so long that he didn’t see the real thing when it was right in front of him?
What was it about her that kept him wondering? André could have her investigated, but because she had worked for him and he had no legal reason to do it, it would be an invasion of privacy. When she had been hired, the store had done a background check and had found nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, he could look her up online and find out what was public, but he still considered that an invasion. If she wanted him to know something about her, she would tell him. And if he needed to know more, he should ask.
Questions filled his mind on the way to pick her up. None of them would get answers. If he wanted to ask, he didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t ask her where all of the money had came from. Her salary at the store didn’t support her lifestyle.
The doorman tipped his hat as André entered the building. “She said to let you go up,” he said.
André nodded. He’d passed the man enough times to be recognized. The fourth date came to mind again. Was that the magic number?
His breath caught in his throat when she opened the door. Purple was her color and she wore it regally. Everything from her lipstick to her Valentino gown and jewel-encrusted Christian Louboutin shoes matched. The white sparkle of the diamond neckla
ce and earrings added to that of her eyes. All she needed was a crown to pull off the queenly charade.
Speech deserted him. André blinked a couple of times, dispelling the image.
“Come in,” she said. “I’ll get my purse and then I’m ready.”
Inside he watched her sensually walk across the room. The gown clung to every part of her, and he had to turn away to keep from moving to touch her.
She lifted a purple beaded bag that matched her shoes and turned back.
“Wow!” André said. Actually, the word was forced from him. “You look fantastic.”
She blushed. He saw the color highlight her cheeks.
“Well, if clothes make the man, you’re fully cooked.” She smiled.
André’s thoughts whirled. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He’d rather stay exactly where they were and spend the night alone—together.
“Maybe we’d better leave,” he said before he could act on the thoughts going through his head, thoughts that had him removing all that purple one inch at a time.
Heads turned when André and Susan entered the ballroom. Like the wedding where he’d first encountered Susan, this was an area where André was well-known. Many of his friends and colleagues were here, and he expected to see his brother David and his wife. But it wasn’t David he saw. When they reached their table, Carter and Christian, his twin cousins, were already seated, along with their dates.
The men stood and came around to hug André.
“Hello, I’m Carter,” one of them said to Susan.
She accepted his handshake, and introductions were made all around before they sat down.
“Anyone seen David and Rose yet?”
Both cousins shook their heads. “You know Rose,” Christian said. “More than likely, David is still trying to pry her out of the store.”
Each time they came to New York, Rose wanted to see every department of the New York store and compare it to what she was doing in the Logan Beach store.
“I’m sure they’re on their way,” Carter chimed in.
“What do you do, Susan?” Christian asked.
“I’m a photographer,” she said.
André noticed that she didn’t expound.
“Gee, you could be the model,” one of the women said.
Susan smiled her thanks. André had to agree with the woman. Susan was the most beautiful woman in the room. He could tell that when they’d entered and heads had turned as they’d walked by.
“I thought photographers always had cameras hanging from their necks,” Christian said.
Susan smiled as she drew her purse closer to her and clicked the catch. Then she opened to reveal the tiny camera hidden inside.
“Be careful what you do, guys,” Christian’s date said. “You could find yourself on Instagram.”
They all laughed.
“Why don’t we dance?” André said.
They left the table and went to the dance floor. The music was soft and André got to hold her close. It was exactly what he wanted to do. With Susan in his arms and the music surrounding them, he felt as if nothing could be better in his world. His eyes closed and he swayed with her, feeling the softness of her skin under his hands.
They hadn’t been at the ball more than half an hour, yet he was ready to take her away, keep her for himself, learn her secrets and have her learn his. This was the fourth date, but he feared their roles were reversed. She might be the one to call things off, because he was surely the one who wanted to take things more seriously.
A commotion behind them had André turning to look. David and Rose had arrived and were being greeted by the other Thorns at the table.
“Is that your brother?” Susan asked. “I recognize him from the photos.”
He took her hand, and then they left the dance floor and started toward their table. Rose saw him first.
“André,” she called and rushed to hug him. David came behind her. The two brothers pumped hands.
André introduced her, and while David’s reaction was a wider smile than was already on his face, Susan had the feeling he was totally surprised to see his brother with a date, or maybe just with her. They shook hands.
Rose was less formal. She was warm and happy. She looked Susan up and down without any malice in her gaze.
“That is an absolutely fabulous gown,” Rose said instead of hello. “Valentino?”
Susan nodded.
“And you wear it well.”
“Regally was my word,” André said. He slipped his arm around Susan’s waist and pulled her an inch closer to him.
“Where did you find it?” The awe in Rose’s voice was evident.
“It was a shopping-spree treat from a couple of years ago.”
André forced himself not to tighten his hand. Instead he set his teeth and held any comment that might escape inside. Valentino was not an off-the-rack brand.
“Rose, we’re not spending the night cross-examining André’s date on her clothes,” David cautioned his wife.
Rose glanced at David, then back at Susan. “I apologize,” she said. “I used to be a buyer at Thorn’s before it was Thorn’s.”
“She’s referring to the Logan Beach store,” David explained. “The building was once Bach’s Department Store. A lot of it was damaged by a storm. The House of Thorn bought it, and that’s where I met Rose, the love of my life.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. All eyes were on David, but André watched Susan. She smiled and turned to look at him. Usually he would pretend to be interested in something else. But he found himself unable to look away.
Their gazes went on too long. If it hadn’t been for the band playing a fan favorite that snapped his attention, they’d still be looking longingly into each other’s eyes.
Couples left the floor, and through the magic of electrical hydraulics and some very crafty engineers, a carpeted runaway grew out of the wall and extended across the floor. Quickly, men appeared and dressed the floor around it with flowers that matched the animated roses appearing on the walls, again through the magic of intelligent lighting.
“The show is about to begin,” André whispered to Susan.
“There’s a show?”
He leaned close enough to her ear that his lips nearly touched her skin. “There’s always a show at these affairs.”
“It’s not Fashion Week,” Rose spoke up. “But with this many retailers in one place, it’s perfect to entertain them with future sales products.”
“Future?”
“What they show today will be for sale this fall and winter.”
Susan nodded as the first model stepped onto the runway and began her signature walk. She wore an open red wool coat that fanned the floor. Under it were snow-white wide-leg pants that flapped as she strutted down the runway and a shimmering gold sequin to-the-waist bandeau sweater. The coat naturally swung, but as she walked, she used a hand to efficiently flip it around, showing the gold lining.
Growing up in a family of retailers, André and his brothers had sat through more fashion shows than they could count. His mother had insisted that even though they were boys, they needed to understand that women made most of the purchases, so they needed to understand what made women buy, and they needed to know the designer names so they could talk intelligently to their clientele.
The program passed the fifteen-minute mark, but no one was checking their watches. Each outfit outdid the one before.
André leaned close to Susan and whispered, “They’re right, you know.”
“About what?” Susan asked, glancing his way.
“You could be up there?”
She shook her head.
“Why not? You must know you’re a standout.”
“Thanks, but I don’t crave the limelight.”
“And that’s
why you’re dressed as if you’re about to step onto the red carpet,” he teased.
“I’m dressed this way because being out with a captain of industry like you calls for a certain expectation.”
“So, you dressed this way for me?”
Susan gave him a Mona Lisa smile, pressed her cheek to his and turned back to the models on the runway.
The show was coming to a close. From experience, André instinctively knew that. Often they ended with a wedding gown. He expected to see a winter wedding dress, complete with fur around the neck and cuffs. But he was disappointed. The model stepped onto the carpeted runway, and heads popped up. People sat straighter in their chairs. And the exhalation of air was noted and deserved.
Tonight’s final gown was an ice-blue waterfall of ruffles. The exclamation and applause from the crowd was resounding. Right when the finale of all of the models in their last outfits was expected, something unexpected happened. Two models dressed identically to the first ice-blue one joined her.
“I know what they’re going to do,” Susan said into André’s ear.
“What?”
“Just look at the background.”
André looked at the cycling points of light that swam along the walls in perfect syncopation to the soft music accompanying the models.
The three women turned in several circles, as though they intended to perform a dance. They came together, arranging themselves back to back to back. The gowns flared out as the models crouched into what appeared to be one sitting position. When they tucked their heads, the result was one large rose with three black-haired models’ faces forming the center.
“Wow!” Rose exclaimed.
The crowed came to its feet, including everyone at André’s table. Deafening applause reverberated through the ballroom, along with shouts of bravo.
“That was wonderful,” Susan said when she was able to talk again. The applause went on for several minutes, and then the designer gave a speech.
“It wasn’t what I expected,” André said.
“I don’t think anyone did,” David agreed.
Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart Page 10
