by Jackie Braun
“I’m making too much of it,” she said aloud. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”
The suit-clad man seated across the aisle from her on the subway train didn’t so much as bat an eye. This was New York, after all. People here were used to other passengers having conversations with themselves.
But Chloe still felt like an idiot. And not only because she had an audience. This was Simon she was thinking about.
Back at her apartment, she spent the better part of the afternoon pacing and fretting even though she had some freelance work to do. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t think. Finally, she couldn’t stand it. Just after six o’clock, she dialed Simon’s number.
“It’s me. Chloe,” she added needlessly after he answered. He had caller identification on his telephone. And it wasn’t as if her voice had changed over the past several hours, even if it seemed something had.
“Hi. This is a surprise.”
“Why is it a surprise? I call you all the time. Well, not all the time, but often. And you call me.” Though he hadn’t tonight, and, frankly, she’d expected him to. She’d expected some sort of explanation.
“I meant, a pleasant surprise.”
Her pulse perked up a little, which she both anticipated and found ridiculous. “I hope I didn’t throw your schedule off by stopping by your office earlier.”
“Believe me, I welcomed the excuse to spend a few minutes not looking over documents.”
“Oh. Good. And I appreciate your advice on the veneers.”
“Does that mean you’re going to follow it?”
“I’m still thinking.”
He made a humming noise. “So, is that the only reason you called?”
“No.” Her heart knocked out a couple of extra beats. “I was just wondering…” Why did you kiss me like that? Why did you stop? Did you feel all woozy and confused afterward, too? Since she couldn’t bring herself to ask any of those questions, she finished with “—how your day went. The rest of it. You know, after the elevator when, um, when I left.”
“The rest of my day.” He sighed heavily. “In a word, lousy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And she meant it, even if misery did love company.
“Want to know why?” he asked. It was issued like a dare.
Chloe swallowed and in a voice barely above a whisper asked, “That kiss?”
“I didn’t hear you.”
She chickened out. “I said, merger giving you fits?”
“Yeah. The damned merger.” His tone turned wry. “Among other things.”
“Like who? Er, I mean, what?” She wasn’t being nosy. They often traded bad-day stories. She re minded him, “I’m a good sounding board. You can tell me anything.”
“I know I can.” But she got the distinct impression that he was holding out on her now, even though he said, “You had it right the first time. It’s more like who.”
Chloe knew that tone. “A woman?”
“Got it in one.”
An assortment of confusing emotions nibbled around the corners of her curiosity. The one that gave her pause was betrayal. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone again.”
“We’re not dating.” He sounded weary.
“Yet?” Chloe prompted.
“Ever.”
“Why? What’s wrong with her?” she asked.
“Nothing’s wrong with her.”
Chloe didn’t care for the way he leaped to the woman’s defense.
“Something’s got to be wrong with her if she’s not interested in you.”
“You think?” He sounded amused now.
“She must be an idiot.”
“She can be a little clueless at times,” he agreed on a laugh. “In an adorable sort of way.”
Uh-oh. Adorable? Chloe didn’t like the sound of that. He’d never been interested in a woman he’d considered adorable. Gorgeous, sexy, sophisticated and exotic…sure. “Have you two known each other long?”
He took his time answering. “Sometimes I think maybe too long.”
“Then why is this the first I’m hearing of her?” she demanded.
That odd feeling of betrayal niggled again. This time, she told herself she understood its source. Simon had always been forthcoming about the women in his life. Not that he provided intimate details, but Chloe always knew when he was involved or interested in becoming involved. So, how had she missed this one?
“It doesn’t matter. Forget I mentioned it. She’s…not my type,” he said.
“Okay. But you’re interested?”
“Forget it, Chloe. Please.”
Still, she couldn’t resist saying, “A bad girl, huh? The kind who wears black leather, has major body art and piercings in places that make me shudder?”
“No.” But he chuckled, letting her know that as off base as she might be, at least she’d lightened his mood.
Or she thought she had.
“Let’s just drop it, okay?” She heard him sigh and imagined him sinking into the cushions of the supple leather recliner in his living room.
If he swiveled around in the chair, he had a stunning view of the city out the wall of windows that faced the park. He had a killer apartment. It was three times larger than hers was, and she didn’t need to be an expert on Manhattan real estate to know it had cost him a pretty penny. It fit his success, as did his tailored suits, sports car and choice tables at the city’s nicest and priciest establishments. Yet Simon didn’t mind, indeed, he seemed almost to prefer, spending time in Chloe’s dive of a walk-up eating pizzas or Chinese takeout.
Which gave her an idea.
“I’m thinking of calling Fuwang’s to place an order for Happy Family.” The seafood dish was a favorite of both of theirs. “You want to come over? My treat?”
It would give her an opportunity to grill him about this mystery woman and to, well, get over this latest silly bit of interest in him that she had going.
“What happened to your diet?” Simon asked.
“Oh. Yeah. That.” Her stomach growled, and no wonder. Not only was she starving, Fuwang’s made some of the best Chinese food in all of Manhattan. “I can afford to splurge a little. I’ve eaten light all day.”
“How light? I’m telling you, Chloe, you’ll keel over in a dead faint if you skimp too much. Remember what I said about healthy snacks.”
Grazing, he called it. The idea was to eat several small servings of nutritious food throughout the day. Unfortunately, the word grazing conjured up the image of a cow in Chloe’s mind, and that was not exactly the kind of mascot a chronic dieter such as herself wanted to have.
Still, Simon’s obvious concern for her well-being was touching. Her boss wouldn’t have cared if her current diet regimen involved regular purging as long as it didn’t interfere with her productivity. Helga at Filigree’s was only interested in selling more bagels. Her parents just wanted her to catch a man’s eye so that she could settle down and give them more grandchildren. And then there was Frannie.
Whenever Chloe talked to her sister these days, Frannie’s only question was about the scale’s reading. In truth, Chloe didn’t know. For that matter, she didn’t have the nerve to find out, since looking at a number on a scale was the kind of downer that typically sent her into binge-eating mode. So, she was going by how her clothes fit. And they were definitely hanging a little looser these days. Yesterday, for instance, she hadn’t had to lie on her bed in order to get her favorite jeans over her hips. Now, that was measurable progress.
Frannie didn’t see it that way. Chloe’s slim-hipped, narrow-waisted sister never had experienced a weight problem. Even after popping out two perfect children, she’d returned to a lithe one hundred and twenty pounds within mere weeks. Frannie’s secrets? In addition to being rather apathetic when it came to food, spinning class and yoga. A few years back, Chloe had tried yoga at her sister’s insistence. It only took one downward dog for her to sustain a minor head injury and take out the woman on the m
at next to her. The instructor had refunded Chloe’s money in full and begged her not to return. When asked about their relationship, Frannie claimed they were distant cousins…several times removed. They might as well have been, given their different body shapes and metabolisms. “So, Chinese?”
“It’s tempting,” he admitted.
“But?”
“I’m tired, Chloe.”
“Oh.” A curious ache formed in her chest. “Another time, then.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Best Body
SIMON MANAGED to avoid Chloe for the rest of the week. Not seeing her was torture, but then seeing her would have been, too…after that fleeting kiss.
He’d needed to be sure that the next time they were together all of the wayward emotions he’d been experiencing were corralled back in place. So, he’d canceled a couple of running dates, claiming his work schedule was the culprit.
But now it was the weekend, and his excuses had run dry. Besides, he missed her.
She was waiting for him at their rendezvous point in the park, already stretching when he arrived. Her pose nearly had him turning around. A pair of gray jersey cotton shorts were pulled snug across her rounded bottom as she loosened her muscles. Her backside was definitely more toned than it used to be.
It was his moan that caught her attention. She turned around and offered a tentative smile. A week ago, her face would have split into a wide grin. Now they stood at arm’s length in awkward silence. This, Simon told himself, was exactly what he didn’t want. He recalled how things had become between him and his stepmother after she’d announced plans to divorce his father.
“Nothing will change between us, Simon,” she’d assured him.
But once the divorce was final, their relationship became more and more strained. She still loved his father and now that Sherman had moved on to the woman who would become the third Mrs. Ford, Clarissa gradually stopped coming around. Simon was practically an adult by then, but he’d missed her. He wouldn’t let romance botch up things between him and Chloe.
“I was worried you weren’t going to be able to make it again,” she was saying.
“Running a little late this morning,” he lied. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I’ve just been stretching.”
“Yeah. I saw.” He cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to mind. “Great weather for a run.”
Her brows tugged together and no wonder. Though it was barely nine, it was already pushing eighty and the air was dense with humidity.
“Just kidding.” He forced a laugh. “Ready?”
They started out at a leisurely pace. As always, they were in sync. She matched his strides perfectly, one long leg kicking out in unison to his.
“I’ve missed you,” he said. To make the statement a little less damning, he added, “Our runs are a highlight of my day.”
She glanced sideways. “I’ve missed you, too. And, I’ve been worried.”
“About me?”
“I think that woman has gotten under your skin. You’re not acting like yourself.”
Understatement of the year. “I’ve been busy.”
“Is that all?”
It was the perfect opportunity to mention that kiss and…what? Apologize? Explain? No, the less said on that subject the better.
“It’s my dad,” he told her. It wasn’t a complete fabrication.
“Your dad? Is he okay?”
“Actually, he’s lost his mind.” At Chloe’s puzzled expression, Simon clarified, “He’s getting married again.”
Her lips formed a silent O. Then, “Does this make number six or seven?”
“Six, I think. I’ve lost count.”
Simon sped up. Chloe matched his stride. She had long legs and was putting them to good use. He heard her breath chuffing in and out, the sound rhythmic and, in a way, comforting. He liked having her beside him.
“Sorry.” He knew that she meant it. She was the only one who understood how deeply the revolving door of stepmothers in his life had affected him. “Wh-when is the w-wedding?” she asked, getting winded. “This afternoon.”
He told himself to slow down, but the demons snapping at his heels had him surging ahead. He and Chloe were in a full run now on a path dotted with other joggers and walkers. They wove in and out of the pedestrian traffic. Talking was impossible. Chloe remained at his side for a good two minutes before starting to fall behind. Little by little, his lead lengthened. He could no longer see her from the corner of his eye. When he finally stopped, it took her a moment to catch up. They stood together, panting. Both of them were bent at the waist with their hands braced on their thighs.
When her breathing somewhat returned to normal, she asked, “Feel better?”
He knew what she meant. “Not really.”
“So, back to your dad’s wedding, did you just learn about it?”
He straightened and pushed the damp hair back from his forehead. “I’ve known for a few months.”
“Why haven’t you said something to me before now?” She looked hurt. “First you’re keeping secrets about a woman and now this? And then that—”
“That what?”
“Never mind.” But he knew she was thinking about the kiss. “You’re not acting like yourself, Simon.”
He ignored the comment. “I figured she’d bail on my father before now. If she’s smart, she’ll leave him at the altar before saying ‘I do.’”
“Are you going?”
He shrugged. “I thought about skipping it, but Dad asked me to pick up the ring from the jewelers, so I’ll be there.”
“Alone?”
“Are you offering to go with me?”
Simon hadn’t planned to invite anyone. The event was akin to a dental visit, uncomfortable but necessary. But he wouldn’t mind the company. Especially Chloe’s.
“Of course, I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.”
Perspiration dotted her skin and her hair was staging an all-out revolt. He wanted to kiss her again, maybe even up the ante from the last time.
Which was why he said, “You know, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to host a small cocktail party at my apartment next weekend, mostly people from the office but a few friends, as well.”
He’d come up with the idea the night after the kiss while he’d lain awake feeling restless and desperate. A cocktail party would allow Simon to fulfill his promise to Chloe regarding Trevor, and as such it might help restore to normal his and Chloe’s just-friends status.
Two birds, one stone and the only casualty would be Simon.
“Such as me?” she asked.
He forced a smile. “It will give you an opportunity to talk to Trevor and you might consider it a dress rehearsal of sorts for the reunion, since some of the people from the office can be every bit as snobby and boorish as the Unholy Trinity.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“You’ll have to help Mrs. Benson with the planning,” he said of his housekeeper.
“Thank you, Simon. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Yeah? So why was she frowning? Sometimes he thought there was no figuring out the woman.
They finished their circuit of the park on a leisurely jog. Chloe was grateful for the less hectic pace, even if she understood why Simon had sped up. And she ached for him. As annoying as her family could be, at least they stuck around, unlike Simon’s mother and favorite stepmother. And while Chloe’s parents’ marriage was far from ideal, beneath the nitpicking and bickering, she knew her mother and father would stick together till the end.
Perhaps because of Simon’s experience, she’d never taken that kind of permanence for granted.
They arrived at the same park entrance where they’d started an hour earlier. She couldn’t wait to peel off her damp clothes and stand under the cool spray of her shower.
“I think I lost five pounds in water weight,” she commented.
“Same h
ere.”
Beside her, Simon tugged his drenched T-shirt over his head, exposing the kind of physical perfection his clothes only hinted at. Chloe swallowed a wolf whistle before it could escape.
Check out those abs!
How was a woman not supposed to gawk? She tried her best to look elsewhere, but time and again her gaze returned to his defined chest and chiseled abdomen.
“You’re so…”
His brows rose as he waited for her to continue.
“Lucky.” She managed after clearing her throat. “You can take off your sweaty shirt in public and no one cares.”
“If you want to lose yours, you won’t hear me complaining.” He’d said similar stuff to her before, but this time, even though he’d grinned afterward, her pulse began to rev like it had during their run. She blamed that kiss, chaste as it had been. It had her mind wandering to places where she’d previously never let it go.
“Well, I’d better head home,” she said. “I have to turn from a pumpkin into something presentable for your father’s wedding.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon.”
CHAPTER SIX
Most Graceful
SIMON WAS WEARING a tuxedo when he came to collect Chloe later that day. And he arrived in a limousine rather than in his own car. The overall effect was fairy-tale-esque. No one did traditional black-and-white attire better than Simon. He had the build for it—long limbs, slim hips and broad shoulders. And he had the attitude—confident without coming off as cocky.
Indeed, he was as comfortable in formal garb as he was wearing faded jeans and a sweatshirt bearing the logo of his college alma mater. Whereas Chloe was already reminding herself to keep her shoulders back and stomach sucked in, and looking forward to the point in the evening when she could kick off her shoes. The ones she had on now were new. Already, they were killing her.
She’d never been good at walking in heels higher than an inch, but as the saying went, practice made perfect. So, she’d been wobbling about her apartment in a pair of the three-inch-high, peep-toe pumps since shortly after her shower. She’d already had to apply bandages to the back of her heels. Other blisters were forming on her toes. But she was determined to suck it up. No pain no gain and all that.
