He glanced out the window. The sky was wonderfully blue for New York City. “My parents, I suspect, are not like yours back in Minnesota. I was shot on their yacht, remember?”
Jennifer used her napkin to dab her mouth and nodded. “A very valid point. I’m even wondering why the hell I’m here.”
* * *
She’d lost her mind.
Jennifer Ann Altea did not flirt with patients, she did not want an association with any sort of illegal activity, and quite frankly, she was not that fond of lawyers, especially those who got shot during some kind of elite cocktail party on an expensive boat.
But she liked him. And she did very much favor intelligent men. Salvatore Ariano was not just attractive but also had some sort of mysterious draw that she couldn’t put her finger on. But everyone else on the planet—even his ex-girlfriend—seemed to notice she liked him. This had never happened to her before. Even though he was obviously a little not-with-it from the meds, he was still polite and genial and managed to be fairly charming.
Not an easy task.
There were no illusions: she was not a raving beauty, but she thought she was pretty in her own way, and he was interested in her too, she got that. But as she’d told him before, this was just an interesting situation. Why the hell couldn’t she go for the insurance agent who’d accidentally run over his foot with a lawn mower last week? He’d been seriously coming on to her, even with two missing toes. And he was cute, but not like this guy.…
When Sal had been admitted, and sent into emergency surgery, the nurses had been talking about him from that first moment he was wheeled into the ED—she understood entirely why. Aside from his good looks, there was a certain charisma.
She should run the other way, but instead she propped her elbows on the table and asked him, “Why law school?”
His smile was disarming, and she was pleased to see he’d eaten his breakfast swiftly, which meant he was at least healing. Lack of appetite was a red flag. The food had done him good too, for his color was better.
He regarded her, across a table that she would guess cost thousands of dollars at the finest boutique antique store. The entire place was decorated with exquisite taste. He said readily enough, “My undergrad degree is in accounting and I got my CPA as soon as I graduated. I took a job with a firm, but it was a little boring for me, and my father encouraged me to go on to law school. I thought about it, and decided it wasn’t a bad idea.”
“So you could work in organized crime?”
His gaze was steady. “I immediately invoke a very famous amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America.”
“Now you sound like a lawyer.”
“That’s promising. I certainly hope so.” He leaned the elbow of his good arm on the table and took another sip of coffee. “So, this is not a one-way street. Why medical school?”
She brushed back her hair and contemplated her coffee cup. Then she slightly lifted her shoulders. “I don’t really recall the conscious choice. I think I’d been inclined that direction all along. I loved biology and to be truthful, it is very interesting. That was my undergrad degree. Who else gets to work in a discipline where the variables are so vast that what works for one patient doesn’t work at all for another? I never know what is going to happen from day to day and it is an adventure.”
“That’s how you look at it?”
“Pretty much. Long hours, very little thanks, and the money is okay but not what everyone thinks it is.”
Sal touched his hand to the bandage on his side. “I have a certain appreciation for your dedication to your work.”
“You have any idea who shot you?” Jennifer looked at him intently. “Like none of that was on television. I watched the next morning. Not a word. A man is shot on a yacht and no one mentions it? Impossible.”
His face went shuttered. “My father has friends. High up.”
“That I have gathered.” She took a sip of coffee.
“No. Actually, I don’t so much. You are judging me by the standards I don’t necessarily hold.”
Damn it, why was he so cute with those truly beautiful eyes? She didn’t need this.
Her lashes lowered and she took in a breath. “You see, that could be a deal-breaker for me.”
“We don’t even have a deal yet, do we?”
Jennifer didn’t laugh. Instead she spread her hands on the table. “I wish you were someone else.”
“Oh man, that stings a bit.” But he then added quietly, “I can’t help it. It is what I am. I can give you some assurances. Principles vary. Don’t believe everything you see on television. Every dime I will have in my lifetime will be earned by hard work. All of this life is a negotiation. CEOs of big companies regularly take golden parachutes and leave their employees bereft. No one calls them criminals. Except the people left wondering how they are going to make ends meet.”
He had a point.
He went on. “I’m not condoning anything, either way. I’m just saying that life is gray, instead of black and white. I know how it sounds, but when you think about it, the law should be the law. In practice, that is not how it works. I can think of three very famous murder cases off the top of my head that when the defendant went to trial, everyone in this country knew they were guilty, but they got off because we couldn’t prove it beyond the shadow of a doubt to that particular jury. It’s a crapshoot, really.”
That was pretty honest, and he was gorgeous with his bare chest—bandages aside—and his rumpled blond hair. He hadn’t shaved, and she didn’t mind that because it would certainly not be the easiest process to get out a razor and use it. For whatever reason, it made him seem less tall and dominant.
In her job, she got tired of arrogant males. Or females, for that matter. “I get what you are saying and I have not walked a mile in your shoes either.” She picked up her coffee again. “Ethics are always a debatable topic. For instance, I should not have used your medical records to obtain your address.”
“But yet I am glad you did. I think I’m glad in general you were the physician on duty. My lucky day.”
He’d really been fortunate, and she was glad too.
No vital organs hit. A miracle. Maybe he had an idea of how much providence was involved, but from a medical point of view, he’d been a very lucky man. Taking a bullet to the stomach almost always involved greater damage.
Time for a change of subject. The kitchen was a dream, so that was a good place to start. She was trying to put a price tag on it and had no idea. Ceiling-to-floor cabinets with glass fronts and perfectly stacked expensive dishes, pendant lights in a sapphire blue glass, stainless steel appliances, and the view …
… water and the city skyline. Jennifer took another bite of her bagel. “I’m sitting here thinking that someday, I might live someplace like this. Of course I’m never home anyway, so it might be wasted on me. How do you afford it?”
Sal tried to shrug but winced instead. “I just lucked into it. My father knows the owner. Like I said, he knows people.” He leaned forward. “I could use a roommate.”
Jennifer had to be amused at his attempt to be seductive in his condition.
She wiped her fingers on her napkin. “First of all, you’d need to be completely lucid before you ask anyone that, and we haven’t known each other long enough. Let’s keep this all in perspective. I think you’re attractive, but you have been on painkillers since the first moment you woke up and looked into my eyes. Once life has achieved some sort of balance, maybe let’s catch a movie, okay? I’m not certain a flirtation you will never remember is the basis of a relationship that involves sharing a sink.”
“If you think I’d forget you, think again.”
He looked visibly startled after he said it, like the remark had been involuntary, and maybe it had been.
“I meant—”
She took pity on him. “You aren’t committing to anything or even scaring me away. Just relax. Middle ground here. A movie in our future
?”
“Sure.”
Jennifer leaned forward and touched his hand. Not the way she regularly touched her patients, but very differently. “I’m taking your friend’s word for it and believing you are a nice guy. Now, let’s take those bandages off to look at how you’re healing and I will leave after that. I have a surgery at one o’clock anyway. It would be nice to get in a few hours of sleep.”
After years of the clinic and supervising wound care, she had to admire how he didn’t even move a muscle as she peeled off the dressing to inspect the wounds. He simply sat in the chair in that very stylish kitchen and let her do it, with the spectacular view of the Hudson River in the background, his jaw set tautly.
It had to hurt, but neither injury seemed infected, so the news was good. She wrapped and taped everything back up, and she just said mildly, “When you feel a little better, give me a call. Don’t overdo it, okay?”
Then she leaned over and kissed him very lightly on the lips before she went out the door.
Chapter
TWENTY
“This is crazy pants.”
Reign gazed at her assistant. “Louise, what are you taking about?”
“The clothing line … I can’t get over it. I mean I was hoping.… I kept telling myself it would be you, but the competition is cutthroat in this business. Not to sound selfish, but this isn’t just your big chance, it’s mine too. I’ll know a top designer. I’ll have worked for her, with her, and when Reign Grazi becomes a household name, I’ll hopefully be along for the ride.”
The young woman paced around the small studio. It was definitely a spare space, part of an old factory with cinderblock walls and high windows, but it was practical and fairly cheap, and Reign’s father owned the building.
Louise had elfin features: tip-tilted nose, eyes with a slight slant to them, and a small pointed chin.… And she was a wiz with a sewing machine. The best Reign had ever seen, and even though Louise was just twenty-one, her enthusiasm and energy alone made Reign glad she’d hired her. No college, no experience except working in a clothing factory for a year, but she’d proven to be a good call. Reign didn’t know much about her assistant’s childhood, but she got the impression maybe there hadn’t been a lot of money. Louise had mentioned once briefly that her mother had done alterations and mending to help make ends meet, in addition to her job as a waitress, and was one of the most tired people she’d ever known.
In amusement, Reign said, “I swear I think you are more excited than I am, and I am pretty wound up about the whole deal.”
This morning Louise wore fishnet stockings, a short black skirt, and a lacy pink top with a black bra underneath. Clunky black heels completed the ensemble, and her hair was an unusual red not found in nature, at least not in most human beings.
But once again, she was really good at her job.
“Let’s go over the first design again, can we?” Reign’s desk was more of a disaster than usual, a computer angled at one end and her new sketches scattered everywhere. “I’ve picked out the fabrics and colors and I want to see how it works. Cocktail dress, my size, and let’s make the skirt full, so more women feel comfortable wearing it. This will be a mass-market enterprise, not just for certain body types.”
“Not all of us have your figure.” Louise had wide hips, but a pretty petite bosom.
“Not everyone has my nose either,” Reign pointed out wryly. “Supposedly it gives my face character.”
“Men don’t seem to mind.”
She glanced up at the sound of the male voice and set aside her sketch pen as she realized someone was in the doorway. “Joey.”
Louise audibly gasped, which was rather funny, but then again Joey Carre had an iconic name in the business that was more recognizable than Reign’s. This afternoon he wore a flamboyant red shirt—that he actually looked good in—and dark gray slacks, leather Italian loafers, and his smile flashed white teeth.
“Reign.” He strolled in, and she automatically rose to give him a swift kiss on the cheek. She hadn’t seen him since he had introduced her to Nick at that party. It felt like it had been years.
He squeezed her shoulders. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She sank back into her chair. “Nice of you to drop by. Have a seat. Do you want a cup of coffee or something?”
Louise rushed to pick a pile of magazines off a chair. “Espresso?”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Sounds wonderful.” Joey sat, his smile benign, not even glancing over. “I’ve been coveting a breakthrough like yours for years, but that’s hardly a secret because, let’s face it, we all do. The New York fashion scene is buzzing over Reign Grazi.”
Reign said dryly, “The New York fashion scene is always buzzing about something. I think you told me that the day I first met you.”
“True, you’re just the flavor of the hour, but savor it, Reign. Tell me, you still seeing Fattelli?”
“No secrets in this town, I take it.” She lifted her shoulders. “Some, yes.”
“Word is all the time.”
The man in question was at the café across the street, working, but also, as Nick had pointed out, keeping an eye on the street and the doorway to her building. She said mildly, “I like Italian men.”
Joey chuckled. “You like good-looking men, and he just happens to be Italian. Speaking of your ex, how’s Vince? What’s he up to?”
“On Long Island right now, having a little vacation with a family friend.”
“Someone I know?”
“Probably.” In an effort to change the subject, she pushed a piece of paper toward her unexpected guest. “Since you’re here, what do you think of this design?”
The conversation then became centered on the cut of the neckline, and while Reign was the designer, she always respected someone else’s opinion, or at least listened to it. Joey’s taste might be a bit eclectic, but he was the tuning fork of the world she worked in. Style was an interesting facet to every personality. Not everyone liked the same thing, so that was just a stone cold fact. However, appealing to the most people possible was the important slant to every single career in her profession.
He sipped his drink and offered some pretty good advice, and when he left, she went right back to work.
An hour later, she took a break and called Sal. “How are you doing?”
“Well, still not able to leap buildings in a single bound, but I’m not sure I was ever up for that anyway, so maybe not all that disappointed.”
“You sound good.” She did care about him and felt a nostalgic sense of their lost romance. The good part was that their friendship was growing, even if it was entirely in a different direction. And, in her mind, everyone could always use another friend.
He told her, “Dr. Altea stopped by with breakfast and changed my bandages. If you weren’t such an audacious bitch, that wouldn’t have happened, so I guess I should thank you.”
“Bitch? I’ve never been called that before.” Yeah, right. About a thousand times by her ex-husband, which was part of the reason he was her ex-husband. She didn’t mind the label as long as it wasn’t said vindictively. “And yes, you should thank me. You wouldn’t have made a move.”
“Can those two bullet holes excuse me from my less than flirtatious behavior?”
“I like your shyness, but if I wasn’t an audacious bitch you and I wouldn’t have slept together either. I needed to step in.”
“Reign.” He laughed, and then it cut off and a second later he said on a suffocated voice, “Don’t do that to me again, okay?”
“Fuck you? You seemed to like it—”
“Stop being funny.”
She took mercy on him. “I’m sorry. I was just calling to see if you needed anything.”
“I need you, but it isn’t going to happen, is it?” He sounded wistful, but resigned.
Gently, she said, “No.”
“Damn it, Reign. Why would you ever pick Fattelli over me?”
“Sal, I could never
hurt him like I could hurt you.” She looked out the window and tried to quell the pang of regret.
On the other end of the line, he blew out a breath she could clearly hear. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve already hurt me.”
“It was a compliment.”
“And maybe you’re selling him short. Ever think of that?”
This conversation was getting entirely too involved. Evidently he felt the same way, for he added, “Sorry. My fault. I keep bringing up the same topic when I already know the answer. Call me tomorrow?”
“I will.” She ended the call and frowned at the latest sketch. This was going to be entirely different from anything she’d done before. Part of the deal was swimwear, and she was much more comfortable with evening wear and formal attire in general. It was a little difficult to make a bikini unique, but a challenge was a challenge.
An idea occurred to her and she started to work, putting a hint of a ruffle on the tiny skirt of the suit bottom, which she never did, but the cut of the suit would be perfect for it. Along with that, she decided on a deep purple for the color, which made her consider that later she might need a big chilled glass of wine because—purple, really? But it worked, and sometimes taking chances paid off.…
“You look pretty intent.”
Reign glanced up. Nick leaned in the doorway of the studio, a faint smile on his face. “I’m at work,” she informed him. “So I’m working.”
“Is it okay if I use your restroom? I’m not a germ freak or anything, but I wanted to check in and I assume yours will be cleaner here than the one across the street.”
“Right there.” Louise pointed at the door. “Like right there.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he went in and the latch clicked shut, she leaned a hand on Reign’s desk. “Who the fuck is that? Seriously? First Joey Carre—the Joey Carre—and now this guy? Checking in? Why?”
“He’s a … friend.”
“With benefits, I’m guessing.” Louise tilted her head back with an exaggerated sigh. “I have friends and none of them look like him.… He’s gorgeous. His shirt cost more than a new set of tires on my car and he wears it well. Have you thought about using him as a model?”
Playing with Fire Page 17
