Turning the Tables

by Joan Kilby

  “I’m glad you’re here to help,” she said. “I have to get all these mannequins into the window and dressed before tomorrow.”

  “No worries.” Luke started to set the second mannequin in place.

  “Wait. I need to make sure they’re evenly spaced.” Tina hesitated, then boldly grabbed him by his tool belt and with her other hand plucked the square metal tape measure from its leather holder.

  “Your boss a perfectionist, is she?” Luke didn’t seem to mind her taking liberties, just watched her with a bemused expression that turned her cheeks rosy. “A bit of a pain in the butt, sounds like.”

  “I am n—” Tina began indignantly, then quickly amended, “I mean she’s not a pain. She cares passionately about her designs and wants them shown off to their best advantage. I would do the same—if I were in her position, that is.”

  “You’re defending her which proves you’re nice. But I, for one, am glad you’re not the boss.” He gave her his dimpled smile again. “Rich women don’t give handymen the time of day.”

  Tina had to bite her tongue not to respond. That was so unfair. She was polite and friendly to everyone she met. But he couldn’t be talking about her. He didn’t even know her.

  She marked out the spacing and adjusted the pedestals to within a quarter of an inch. “Everything must be just so. If not, the eye will detect a flaw without knowing what is wrong.”

  “True, the same kind of thing applies in building construction.” When she was satisfied, Luke positioned the mannequin. He glanced from the height of it on the platform to her five foot six inches. “I’ll get a step ladder from the store room.”

  “I’ll bring out the rack of clothes.” She put an extra sway in her hips as she led the way toward the store room, conscious of him following closely behind. “After you finish getting the mannequins, I’ll need these boxes, too.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Luke bowed low. But as he straightened, there was that wink again, silently mocking his pretend deference.

  Tina blinked. Did handymen in America always behave this way? Maybe she should be offended, but instead she admired his confidence. When he passed her carrying the step ladder his arm lightly brushed against hers. She didn’t think it was accidental, and he didn’t apologize. The touch of heat drew her gaze to his. The look that passed between them made her breath catch.

  This was crazy. And so not what she’d imagined happening on her first day in New York. Maybe she was jet-lagged. Or needy after Fabio’s betrayal. Whatever the reason, she needed to make sure the flirtation didn’t get out of hand. After all, she was the boss. While he was intriguing, she didn’t want him to think he could take advantage of her good nature. That was never going to happen again.

  Work, she needed to get to work.

  She left him to his various tasks and went to the washroom to scrub her hands clean before handling the garments. When she returned, the stepladder was in place, the boxes moved, and he’d resumed transporting the remaining mannequins.

  Tina chose a dress from the rack and carried it up the ladder. She dropped it carefully over the mannequin’s head, draping the life-like figurine with fine Italian wool in shades of black and forest green. With straight pins placed invisibly, she adjusted the fit.

  “Nice duds.” Luke handed her a dropped pin. “I don’t know much about women’s fashions but I can tell these are classy.”

  “Grazie!” she said, beaming. At the House of Borlenghi, she employed a team of designers but this was another dress she’d sketched the pattern of herself. “It’s one of my own—” Designs. To cover her near gaff she made an extravagant gesture that wobbled the ladder. “One of my favorites.”

  “Careful.” Luke put a steadying hand on her leg, lingering just a touch too long—and yet, somehow not long enough—before he removed it. “Your boss should pay you double for that kind of enthusiasm.”

  Maybe she was being a little over the top for someone not invested in the brand. More subdued, she climbed down and rummaged through a large, many-tiered box of high quality costume jewelry she’d had sent over from Rome, selecting an amber-colored pendant on a long gold chain. Climbing back up, she draped it on the mannequin.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke making minor adjustments until he was satisfied the mannequins looked right. Clearly he was also a perfectionist. She admired the easy way he moved, like a man accustomed to doing physical work. Or like an athlete. His muscular forearms were covered in a thin layer of dark golden hair. His hands were large and strong. His thighs were like tree trunks. That butt could be carved in marble and made into a Roman statue fit for the Vatican museum.

  He caught her staring as he stepped out of the window, and his eyes crinkled knowingly. “Anything else you’d like me to do while I’m here?”

  What a loaded question. What if she said she’d like to take him into the fitting room and strip him down to his tool belt? Straddle him naked on the lilac velvet settee surrounded by a three-way mirror?

  “No, that’s all.” Her voice was cool but her body, suddenly, was hot. “Grazie, you did a good job.”

  He hesitated. “It’s going to take you forever going up and down that ladder. Tell me what you want from that box, I can hand it up to you.”

  “That isn’t a handyman’s job.” Was he as reluctant to leave as she was to see him go?

  “Hey, anyone who can lease a boutique in this neighborhood must have mega-bucks. You shouldn’t worry about this Charmaine dame paying for another hour or two of my time.”

  Her temperature cooled instantly. Oh, so he wanted to draw out the hours he got paid, did he? “Just because someone is well off doesn’t mean they should be cheated.”

  Luke’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Just because someone has money doesn’t mean they own people. Maybe you’re prepared to be treated like a slave, but I’m not.”

  “So you are trying to pad the bill.” Furious and disappointed, she turned away.

  “Hell, no. I just wanted to help. You’re all alone here with some hard-assed boss overworking you.” He raised a hand and took a step backward. “Never mind, I’ll get going.”

  Oh, dear. How had their buzzing flirtation flipped so quickly into antagonism? He’d pushed her buttons. But maybe she was wrong. It wasn’t fair to judge a stranger just because Fabio had swindled her. She had to stop being so suspicious.

  “Wait, I’m sorry.” She reached out and touched his arm. “I jumped to conclusions.”

  He stiffened at first and then blew out a gusty sigh. “It’s okay. Let’s back up.”

  “Please, have a pastry before you go.” She opened the box and pushed it toward him. Maybe it was because she was Italian but when she liked someone, she wanted to feed them. Plus she was liable to eat all the pastries herself if he didn’t help. “Mangia.”

  “Well…I never say no to pastry.” He reached for a sugared confection oozing blueberries and custard. Tina selected an almond Danish. The atmosphere returned to calm. “Mangia. That’s Italian, right?”

  “Sì. I’m from Rome.” Her gaze followed as he carried the pastry to his mouth and sank his teeth into the flaky crust.

  Luke chewed and swallowed. “I thought I detected an accent. Your English is very good. How long have you been living in the US?”

  “N-not long.” If she told him she was only here temporarily it would lead to more questions, questions she didn’t want to answer. “I studied English in school.” And she traveled the world for her work often resorting to English as a universal language. She wiped the crumbs from her lip with a fingertip, followed by her tongue.

  Luke’s gaze riveted on her mouth. “You have a bit of sugar, right…here.” He brushed the corner of her bottom lip with his thumb, making her skin tingle.

  “Grazie,” she said, huskily, suddenly shy.

  “You have a sexy voice. I love the way you roll your R’s.”

  “I tuoi occhi sono molto azzurro.” Your eyes are very blue. Delib
erately, she drew out the long rolling R.

  “Oh, man, you’re killing me.” He shut his eyes, half smiling, half groaning, and leaned toward her to brush his mouth across hers lightly.

  She shouldn’t respond…but she couldn’t stop herself. Didn’t want to. Tina tilted her head up and tasted. He was sweet and salty, a deliciously addictive combination. She drew back, murmuring, “I never knew American handymen had so many talents.”

  “About that…” He nuzzled her neck. “I have a confession to make.”

  Her eyes snapped open. Oh no. Not a confession. Confessions meant wrong-doing. She stepped back. Couldn’t she have a simple interaction with a sexy guy who liked her for no other reason than that he liked her? She put down her pastry. “Tell me.”

  “Whoa, don’t look so fierce. It’s nothing earth-shattering. Just, I’m not a handyman.”

  “You lied to me?” Her nostrils flared on an inhale. Fabio had lied to her too. He’d also cheated on her and conned her out of a good chunk of cash. She and her family had been publicly humiliated by the tabloid press when the affair was dragged through the courts. Worst of all, he’d made her feel bad about herself, stupid and fat and foolish. “Who are you?”

  “I’m from next door at the sports bar.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I just came over to apologize for all the noise.”

  Mechanically, she closed the pastry box and retied the string. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Luke had hoped he would get from her. The fact that he’d lied was deeply disappointing. “Thank you for your consideration.”

  He leaned in, trying to catch her eye. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. You were the one who started it with your fantasy man.”

  No, he’d started it by telling her he’d be anything she wanted him to be. Maybe she should have requested he be an honorable man, or was that too big a dream? “Your boss will be wondering where you are,” she said pointedly.

  He grinned, all cocky and charming. “Yeah, well, he’s a pretty good guy. It’ll be okay.”

  She struggled to hold onto her indignation, but it wasn’t easy. After all she’d concealed her identity as well, and still wasn’t telling him the truth for fear of destroying the delicious sexual tension shimmering between them. Reluctantly, she asked, “What’s funny?”

  “I’m the boss. I own the bar.”

  “But you’re dressed as a workman. I don’t understand.”

  “The contractor doing the reno on the kitchen was short a guy today.” Luke shrugged. “Years ago I used to work in construction so I picked up a hammer.”

  “Why didn’t you simply tell me that?”

  “And miss an opportunity to help a pretty lady?” The teasing light in his eyes was back. He tucked a strand of curling dark hair behind her ear and let his fingertips trail down her neck, making her skin tingle in their wake.

  “You’re just flattering me.” God help her, she loved it. She preened like a cat being stroked. Any second now she’d be purring.

  “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

  He sounded sincere. She didn’t know what to say. This man wasn’t Fabio. He didn’t even know she had any money so how could he be after it? Their argument about billing hours was completely moot since he’d volunteered his time. She’d overreacted—understandable given her history, but it wasn’t fair to Luke.

  “And…” His voice dropped to a low rumble. “I liked the way you ordered me around.”

  Oh. The veiled sexual implications did funny things to her stomach. Made her think of a thousand possibilities. A slow smile curled her lips. “I’ve had a lot of experience at that.”

  “Interesting.” He placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her with her back to the counter. His eyes were only inches away, bright blue with flecks of navy. Mesmerizing. “Let me make it up to you. Have dinner with me. After we eat you could tell me what to do some more.”

  “I…I can’t.” Was she holding her breath? Was that why she couldn’t breathe? If she leaned forward half an inch the bodice of her dress would brush his T-shirt.

  “Why?”

  A million reasons. She was busy with the launch. She was still hurting and humiliated. She had no intention of starting something with a man when she was only here for a brief period, no matter how much he stirred her blood or made her feel alive. But with Luke’s breath fanning her forehead and the heat from his body warming her even though they weren’t touching, reason wasn’t the strongest force operating inside her right now.

  Just a fling, a little voice whispered in her head. You’re only here for a week. You’re virtually anonymous. No one will know, or care when it’s over. Luke would be fun, uncomplicated. An antidote to her self-doubt after Fabio.

  She had just enough presence of mind to remember her early morning radio interview. “It’s not a good idea. I can’t stay out late. I have to be at work early.”

  “That slave-driving boss again. I will definitely have to talk with her.” Luke bumped his nose against hers. “I could pick you up at seven, have you home by ten.”

  “You are very determined, aren’t you?”

  “It’s my defining trait. Where do you live?”

  She was staying at the St. Regis Hotel, but she could hardly tell him that, not after letting him think she was a sales assistant and a resident of New York. “Thank you, but no.”

  “You’re breaking my heart.” He flashed her a smile so dazzling she had to bite her tongue not to instantly retract her refusal. Then he fished a business card out of his shirt pocket and placed it in her palm, wrapping her fingers around it. “If you change your mind, call me.”

  “Okay. I mean, no.” Slightly dazed, she watched him walk to the door. “Ciao.”

  Madre mia. He was hot, he was nice, and he didn’t want a single thing from her. Well, except for the obvious. Frankly, she could do with a little of that, herself.

  But she’d done the right thing in saying no. Hadn’t she?

  Chapter Two

  Luke got five paces away from the boutique, and his feet wouldn’t carry him any farther. He couldn’t leave it like that. Tina was more interesting than any woman he’d met in a very long time. Maybe ever. Okay “ever” was a big call but still…

  He turned around and walked back inside to find her hanging clothes on a rack, handling the garments with as much care and attention as if she’d made them herself. Seeing him enter, her wide, spontaneous smile lit her whole face and hit him like a sucker punch. She may have turned down his dinner invitation, but she wasn’t sorry to see him again.

  “Did you forget something?” she asked.

  “I want to buy a gift. Gloves or a scarf or something.”

  “A gift for your girlfriend…or wife?” she murmured.

  Normally he hated it when people blatantly fished for information about his private life. In his previous career as a professional hockey player, he’d had his share of sports groupies so he didn’t blame Tina for checking. If she even knew who he was, that is. But he was putting the moves on her. The fact she was asking suggested she was interested.

  “No wife. No girlfriend.” If he didn’t have such a jaundiced view of marriage thanks to his parents’ dysfunctional union he might have gotten hitched by now. Instead, he was more about having fun than settling down. Why the hell not? Life was short. Mistakes in choosing a partner lasted a lifetime. Or at least until divorce. “What about you?” he said.

  “No. No wife or girlfriend either,” she said, smiling mischievously. “No, Luke. I am single too. So then, who do you buy this gift for?”

  His pulse quickened knowing she was available. “My sister’s birthday is coming up.”

  “How about a scarf?” Tina moved behind the glass cabinet that showcased neatly folded silk scarves. “What color are her eyes?”

  “Brown.”

  “What kind of an answer is that? Light brown, dark brown, hazel?”

  “Um…” He was so distracted by her vol
uptuous curves, her musical accent, the way she carved the air with her hands as she spoke, that it took him a moment to picture Stella. “Sort of medium.”

  “Lighter than mine, or darker?”

  “Let me look.” He reached across the counter and tipped her chin. Tina’s eyes were large and wide set, slightly tilted up at the corners and fringed by thick black lashes. The color of her irises was a clear, rich amber with tiny flecks of dark brown around the edge. Was there even a name for that color? There ought to be. They were like jewels. Her pupils dilated and a rosy glow appeared on her smooth, olive-toned cheekbones.

  Her lips parted slightly. “Well?”

  “Stella’s are lighter brown, with a bit of green. More like hazel I guess.” His voice had gone all gravelly. He eased back to glance around. “Like that dress, the one on the left in the window with the pleats up top.”

  “I know just the thing.” Tina slid out a drawer from under the glass-topped counter and sifted through neatly folded scarves. She unfurled a wide square of silk in autumn hues, the predominant color a rich mossy green, like the creek that used to run through the woods near their small upstate town when they were kids. “Would this suit her?”

  “Yes,” he said, surprised at how accurate her guess was. “It looks like something she would choose herself.” If Stella had the bucks to buy anything remotely as expensive as an article from a Madison Avenue boutique, that is. Any extra money she had went to care for her disabled son, Timmy. He helped with that too. As much as she’d allow him.

  “I’ll wrap it up.” Tina folded the scarf expertly back into the box and took it to the counter. Crouching, she hunted through one cabinet after another. “Sorry, we’re not even really open yet. Ah, here it is.” She brought out gift wrap and ribbon.

  Luke brought out his leather wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a platinum credit card. “How much do I owe you?”

  Tina made a scoffing sound and waved a hand. “Don’t even think about paying after all the help you’ve given me today.”