She leaned over and looked at the list. There were poster cases and some lighting that they didn’t find from the day before, plus ticket receptacles and roping equipment.
She looked up at Kellen. “Wow. That’s a lot.”
His eyes were wide through the lenses of his glasses and he looked ridiculously cute. “You’re telling me.”
“Well, we’d better get going,” she said. “Poster supplies first stop?” She was already starting off toward the West Side and the first company on the list when he grabbed her wrist.
“Wait, you don’t want lunch first?”
Confused, she looked at him. “Well, if your grandmother isn’t joining us and there is so much on this list, why waste the time?” Drea paused. “Did we have a reservation? Was it fancy? Can you cancel, because I really think it’s more important that we get this done first. If you’re hungry we can pick up something quick. I know of a great noodle place that’s right near the poster supply store. We can stop there after we check on those. If that’s okay with you. I know your grandmother was eager to archive the vintage posters and display others properly.”
He continued to look at her strangely for a moment, then finally nodded. “You’re right. We have a lot to do before the show tonight. Lead the way, Boots.”
Drea fought against smiling, but she liked hearing him defer to her and she also liked this more amiable out-of-suit Suit that she was meeting while in New York. Still, she couldn’t help the feeling that was niggling at the base of her spine, causing her hairs to stand on end.
* * *
As it turned out, they didn’t make the noodle shop at all, instead ending their day of shopping, their arms loaded down with bags and their stomachs growling late in the afternoon, at a nondescript warehouse at the tip of Manhattan. Drea was excited after having scored a vintage original poster of the classic Stormy Weather, with Bill Robinson, Cab Calloway, and featuring Lena Horne prominently on the poster. She was also thrilled to get ones from the films Black Orpheus and Murder in Harlem.
Kellen let out a groan and she turned to him. “If I don’t eat soon, there may truly be a murder in Harlem.”
Drea shook her head. “Your grandmother is so right. You really are a dramatic one. I think your talents are wasted by you not taking the stage as a vocation.”
He rolled his eyes and she looked around. “Come on, let’s eat,” she said, remembering a Spanish restaurant not far on Broadway that was fast, and all their dishes were great. “Let’s get you fed.”
Drea stared at Kellen as he polished off his stewed pork chops, rice, and beans. To be so fit, the man could sure put it away. He looked up at her and swallowed, reaching for his Coke and taking a long sip. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked.
She frowned, then took her own sip of Coke, trying to make time to gather her thoughts before saying the wrong thing. It was true he was all sorts of confusing and this afternoon did nothing but muddle her brain just that much more. As they ate, they were surrounded by shopping bags, and not just her purchases for Mrs. Betty, but things he’d picked out as well: lighting updates, ticket holders, and reel adaptors. “I really don’t get you,” she finally blurted out.
He looked at her, confused. “What is there you don’t get?” Then he turned away as a text came through on his phone. He checked it, then frowned before looking back at her with a sigh. “Better yet, what is it you need to get, Boots? Trust me, I’m not someone you need to be trying to figure out.”
“That’s just it,” she said, frustration setting in. “You go hot and cold at the drop of a hat. You claim to be fully against this reno for important business reasons.”
“You’re right, I am.”
Her eyes went wide. “Then why is it half these purchases are items you picked out and not me?”
“They were on my grandmother’s list. I had to pick them out,” he replied smoothly.
I seem to also be on your grandmother’s list too, but you got over that kiss fast enough. Drea’s eyes went wide with the thought, although she’d buried it weeks ago, and she quickly stuffed her mouth with a big forkful of chicken and rice, willing herself not to say the wrong thing. Shaking her head and getting herself together, she cleared her throat. “Still though. You’re going a little overboard.” She remembered hearing his earlier call and the talk about the Ronson Group. “What are you going to do when it all comes crashing down?”
His eyes went wide. “What do you mean ‘crashing down’?”
Drea looked at him seriously. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do the Ronsons want the Redheart as a theater or do they want it for other reasons? My understanding is they wanted it for their in-town corporate headquarters sales generator. What is outfitting it as a theater going to do for them? All you’re doing now, if the sale to them goes through, is putting money into a teardown.”
She could tell by the tightening of his jaw that she was hitting some nerves and smiled because of her accomplishment. “Or have you decided to see things Mrs. Betty’s way and not sell? She really does have great plans for the theater. At least I think so. It may not be the biggest revenue builder, like the Ronson Group, but it sure will add a lot, in my opinion, to the Kilborn legacy.”
He looked at her, hard. “Legacy, huh?” he asked with a laugh. “You sure weave a pretty story, lady. Though you have a good eye, I’m sure on the stage you are fantastic.”
Drea shook her head. “Yeah, you and nobody else, but thanks.”
“Now who’s being dramatic?” His tone grew soft. “So, is that what brought you to Sugar Lake? The lack of jobs? Because, if you haven’t seen, Sugar Lake is definitely not any sort of creative arts, entertainment metropolis.”
She snorted. “Oh, I’ve seen. And well, yes. Partly it is, but I really came for my aunt and stayed to get away for a bit. But now I’m thinking it’s time I made some tough decisions.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “Like anything, frankly. For so long my only focus has been on auditioning and getting a part, any part, in a movie, TV, or Broadway show. Taking classes, studying theater, hitting up each and every opportunity I could, only to get nothing further than maybes and empty promises.” She sighed and pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. “I don’t know.... I thought for a while it looked like I was close to getting some work, but maybe not. Maybe I’m just not as good as I thought I was.”
Kellen shook his head and finally he laughed.
Drea looked up at him, her temper rising. “What the hell, Suit? You laugh at me now? You really are the pompous ass I tagged you for when I first saw you. When am I going to finally trust my gut and stop giving handsome jerks the time of day?”
He grinned wider. “So, you really do think I’m handsome, huh?”
She snorted. “You’re missing the point. I also think you’re a jerk.”
He leaned forward, his lips connecting with hers and darn it if without even thinking she didn’t tip her tongue out and taste the spicy peppercorns from his pork chops and want to dive in for more. She pulled back and covered her mouth.
He laughed again. “You’re adorable with all your outrage, you know. This whole pity party, while moving and glorious to watch, was just that. A show, and something to watch. Why are you so worried about what others are doing for you when you need to be out there making your own destiny?”
Drea dropped her hands and stared at him hard, her lips tingling and her mind working overtime. “Well, I can say the same thing about you now, can’t I, Mr. Double-Talk. Why are you out here getting pulled in every direction but the obvious one? The one where your heart is telling you to go, toward the Redheart and your legacy.”
His eyes dimmed and Drea knew she’d hit on a nerve. He turned away from her and glanced down at his watch. “Listen, we’d better get a move on if we’re going to get to the show on time.”
She checked the time. Crap, he was right. “Is your grandmother meeting us there? We need to drop off these ba
gs.”
He signaled for the check. “That was her with a text. She’s not. It will just be you and me tonight.”
What? Bait, hook, and catch. Dang, Mrs. Betty was good.
Chapter 19
Sweet, Sweet Charity
Once again, Kellen was in a theater and should have been paying attention to what was in front of him, but instead his eyes kept wandering to the woman in the seat beside him.
He was a damned fool, and he knew it, for kissing Boots in the restaurant like he did, and he knew this time there was no covering up and no excusing himself for it. And crap if she didn’t know it too. What were they starting here?
They hurriedly made their way out of the restaurant and, though he knew she was a bit apprehensive, Drea made the executive decision to stash their bags at her place, which was closer to where they were.
As they awkwardly got into the elevator, jostling for position with a mother trying to wriggle a stroller, he finally felt safe enough to breathe as Drea picked up the baby’s dropped pacifier and handed it to the mother.
The mom got off one floor before them, causing another stir as she jostled the carriage into a suitable position to get off the elevator, and Kellen had to forcibly hold the door open with his body, so it wouldn’t shut and leave him and Boots with at least one of her children.
But when they were off, and even though it was only one floor to go, Kellen was surprisingly, awkwardly embarrassed by the isolation between the two of them. Maybe dropping the things at her place was a bad idea. He rubbed his hand along his tightening neck. Hell, who was he fooling about this whole damned day? Honestly, this whole trip was a bad idea. She was right about that part. He was playing way too fast and loose between two worlds.
Drea fumbled awkwardly with her keys. Kellen felt his brows draw together when she dropped them and he noticed the slight sheen of sweat on the back of her neck as she went to open her apartment door.
He bent to pick them up, handing them to her and clearing his throat. “Here,” he said. “Please don’t be nervous. I can wait out here if you’d like while you put the bags in. You don’t have to be nervous around me, Alexandrea.”
She looked up at him then her eyes cool and calm as she gave him that smile that seemed to come to her so easy. “The only thing that makes me nervous is you suddenly calling me Alexandrea.”
She turned away from him and flipped the key, unlocking the door before smoothly slipping inside.
Well fine, she might not be nervous, but he sure as squat was.
Drea cleared her throat but her words were still soft and shaky. Definitely not her norm. “You gonna let my arm break off, Suit?”
Surprised, Kellen’s head shot up from where he’d been studying his shoes like an anxious schoolboy. Finally, he smiled, getting past his surprise and feeling more than a bit of relief over seeing his own feelings reflected back in her big brown eyes. “So, is that becoming our line now?” he said, walking into the apartment, more at ease after being reminded of their first meeting. She really had a way with him. Like she knew how to get right to where he needed getting to.
She quirked her lips and shrugged. “If you say so, handsome. Now, get in here so we can hurry this up and get to the show.”
The suggestiveness in her tone had him practically choking on his own saliva, but thankfully he was able to swallow it back down and take in her family’s apartment. Though small, it was sweet and homey, and he could both see and feel the Goode family touches all over. From the BLESS THIS MESS sign over the entrance to the kitchen and the LOVE IS WHERE WE ARE saying over the family portraits that crowded the wall over the living room couch. They put the bags in a corner of the living room and she offered him water as he looked around.
“I can’t believe that was you. Seriously, you’re really wearing your hair like that?” he said, looking closely at the photo of her and her sister, their backs to each other, arms folded, smiles wide, with a younger boy standing in the center of them, his attention clearly more on the melting ice cream cone in his hand than the photographer’s instructions to pose. He knew that background, those trees, and that lake. It was Sugar Lake. Suddenly the thought of her summering on the lake so close to where he was and them not meeting until now filled his heart with a sense of longing and missed opportunities.
“Hey, those little afro puffs were the jam back then. Don’t knock them!” she said.
He turned her way, pulling back from the photos, and for some reason was almost breathless by the image of her presently right in front of him. Like a gift, a second chance that he didn’t deserve. “No, it’s you that’s the jam,” he said. “The total jam.”
He reached his arm out and pulled her to him, gratefully tasting her sweet lips once again. He was even more grateful when he felt her body grow soft and meld with his. He knew he was fighting a losing game when it came to her. Everything in him tensing up as his nerve endings went thin and tight, all at once impossibly sharp and on edge, while blood coursed through his body like it was to the boiling point. Kellen suddenly released her and was surprised when she still stayed glued to him. He turned his head and took long gulps from the glass of water in his other hand. Only then did Drea step back, giving him a shy smile while looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. He almost laughed at the unexpected coyness of it, especially coming from her.
He raised a brow and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think we need to get a move on. Remember the time, right?” he said, proud of himself for being able to bring up the fact, which was the opposite of what he really wanted to say and do.
Drea suddenly blinked and stepped away. Her hands quickly running down her chest and to her hips. “Goodness, you’re right, no time for this,” she said, giving him a quick slap on his chest as if they were just playing a game of cards moments ago, and not totally lip locked. “I’ll just be a few. I’d like to freshen up and get out of these workout clothes.”
As his mouth began to protest, she held up a finger and stopped him. “Don’t worry, we won’t be late. All my years of training, if not bringing me my big break, have definitely made me a fantastic quick-change artist.”
True to her word, near moments later she was calling out to him. “Suit, just about ready. Are you available to help here?”
Help? In there? If he wasn’t enjoying the way things were working out so much he’d have expected his grandmother to pop out from behind the plant with a big “tada.” Kellen swallowed and headed down the hall. At her doorway was where he lost all other motor functions.
She looked beautiful; by now he should be used to her stunning him with her beauty, but this time it was different. This time, she had a whole sleek, almost untouchable quality to her that made touching her the only thing he wanted to do. It wasn’t just what she was wearing: a simple black dress that was dipped low in the back to show off her amazingly curved spine, and rather high in the front, just showing off her beautiful collarbones, which he’d never known up until this moment could be so attractive on a woman. The dress went to just past her knees, accentuating her shapely calves and ankles he’d gotten used to rarely seeing. And on her feet, she didn’t have on boots, but black stilettos that were secured by straps so thin, they must have been made by NASA engineers.
She turned and looked at him seriously, then bent down. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long. It’s just the other strap on this shoe is giving me trouble. Do you mind buckling it for me?”
His eyes went wide as he looked at her, then down at her shoe for the first time, noticing that indeed one of the cute thin ankle straps was yes, undone. Then he looked at her feet as she turned her cute little foot. He noticed then that her toes were painted a pretty candy apple red. Jeez, how many tests were men to endure?
She snapped a finger in front of his face. “Well, can you?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” he said, bending and just about tipping over from the weight of how light her body felt as she leaned on his shoulder and how heavy it felt on his hear
t for reasons he didn’t understand and didn’t want to mull over. Kellen went to buckle the strap and couldn’t quite get an angle, causing her to tip over onto the bed, her legs flying up, everything about the situation too tempting, too perfect, and too dangerous for him to even contemplate. He knew they needed to get out of there.
Kellen quickly grabbed her ankle.
“Hey there, do you mind? I’d like to be able to use that when you’re done.”
He looked up at her and loosened his hold. “Oh, sorry.” He quickly fastened the strap. Careful to keep his eyes on the shoe, he stood and took her hand, pulling her up.
“Come on, let’s go. Though your room is adorable.” He looked around. “And you can explain to me about those K-pop boy band posters you’ve got on the side wall later, we should go.”
She looked at the posters and grinned. “I will not. A woman never has to explain or make excuses for her wants or desires.”
He raised a brow and pulled her out of the bedroom. “Let’s go. You saying words like desire in your bedroom is way more than I can take right now.”
* * *
And now here they were, in the beautiful Broadway theater where he could be taking in the show, the music, heck, the historic theater around them, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He was watching as she pretty much acted out every action as it happened on the stage from right there in her seat. She was a show within a show and a delight to watch.
He told her so an hour and a half later as they dined at a small French bistro that stayed open late for the theater crowd. “So did you enjoy the show?” Drea asked between a mouthful of her fries. “My favorite part was ‘If My Friends Could See Me Now.’” Then instantly, as if someone had put a sudden spotlight on her, she started rocking her shoulders and broke into an exaggerated short rendition of, “If they could peep me now, that old crew of mine!”
He leaned forward then, not caring about the smudge of ketchup on her upper lip or her messed up lyrics. All his focus now was on her bright eyes and gorgeous lips. Throwing caution to the wind, he leaned in and stole a sweet and tangy kiss before quickly pulling back.
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