by Teri Wilson
Eventually, he’d begged Emily to let him quit. She’d taken mercy on him, and spending afternoons on a baseball diamond instead of the dance floor had been a relief. But being the only member of the family who hadn’t contributed to the shiny collection of trophies in the dance school’s lobby was another reminder that he wasn’t truly one of them.
He was different.
“Thought we might need these.” Zander sauntered into the dining room carrying seven red wineglasses by the bases of their stems.
Ryan relieved him of half of them and wordlessly went about placing the glasses around the table.
Zander had more on his mind than simply being helpful. Ryan could feel it. He’d worked with his cousin long enough to know when he had something he wanted to talk about. But Zander was going to have to come out and say it. Ryan didn’t want to play guessing games. Especially when he couldn’t even utter Evangeline’s name without arousing suspicion.
“Have you seen the paper today?” Zander asked finally.
“No.” Ryan shook his head.
Zander sighed. “Bocci awarded a Michelin star to one of the restaurants he reviewed this week.”
“Damn. Really?”
“Really.” Zander crossed his arms. “It’s a little French place near Lincoln Center.”
“Just one star?”
“Just one.” Zander nodded. “But at the moment, that’s one more star than we’ve got at Bennington 8.”
Point taken.
The voices of the other Wildes grew louder as they drifted from the kitchen toward the dining room. Zander glanced over his shoulder and then back at Ryan. “We can talk more later, but I’d like you to go check it out and see what all the fuss is about, if you don’t mind. Tomorrow night?”
Ryan shrugged. “Sure. Bennington 8 is closed tomorrow night, so the timing is perfect. But do you think I can get a reservation?”
“I already made one in your name. They’re booked for weeks, but when I mentioned New York’s hottest bachelor was interested, a table magically became available.” Zander smiled. “See? I told you all that tabloid stuff would come in handy eventually.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Perfect. I look forward to reading about my solo dinner in Page Six on Tuesday. They’ll probably rechristen me New York’s loneliest bachelor.”
Zander shook his head. “You’re not dining alone. The reservation is for two at nine o’clock.”
“I see. We’re tag teaming them, then. You’re coming with?” Ryan nodded. “Probably a good idea. Dining alone might make it obvious that I’m there as a culinary spy.”
“I’m glad you agree.” Zander crossed his arms. His expression morphed into what Allegra jokingly called his CEO face.
Which meant that Ryan might not like what was coming next.
“Evangeline will accompany you.”
Bingo.
Ryan’s jaw tensed. “That’s hardly a good idea.”
“Why not? You said yourself that dining alone could be a problem. You’ve been all over the papers. If I go with you, we’ll probably both be recognized and it will be obvious why we’re there. If you go with Evangeline, she can check out the wine.” Zander shrugged. “It’ll just look like you two are on a date.”
“Exactly. I’m her boss. Don’t you think dating her would be a tad inappropriate?” Ryan fixed his gaze on the table and straightened a wineglass that didn’t need straightening.
Could he be a bigger hypocrite right now?
Granted, he hadn’t slept with her while she’d been employed at the Bennington. In fact, they’d barely exchanged more than two words since their “off-the-record” discussion in his office on her first day. They’d been tiptoeing around one another every night, avoiding eye contact.
But there’d been one or two times he’d caught her staring when she thought he wasn’t looking. And the way her cheeks went pink and her lips parted when she’d been caught told him she’d been lying through her teeth about their night together.
A disaster?
Hardly.
Zander snorted. “Of course I think dating her would be inappropriate. It would be worse than that, actually. It would be a disaster.”
That word again—disaster.
Ryan’s head snapped up. “I’m not sure I’d go that far.”
“I would. We can’t afford that kind of distraction while Bocci is in town. Besides, aren’t you forgetting something? Tomorrow won’t actually be a date,” Zander said.
Right. Ryan had indeed forgotten that significant detail.
Zander frowned. “I’m not asking you to date her. In fact, I’m specifically asking you not to. I don’t even want you pretending to date her. I’m just saying if people see you dining together and jump to the wrong conclusion, so be it. Why are you fighting me on this?”
Because date or not, he couldn’t sit across from her without thinking about her blue eyes glittering in the darkness, her kittenish sighs and the way her breath caught in her throat when he pushed inside her.
Something in his chest tightened and closed like a fist. “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”
Zander cut Ryan a glance as the rest of the family spilled into the room, piling plates onto the table. “Good. That was the answer I expected five minutes ago.”
* * *
“Tell me about your new job.” Robert Holly, Evangeline’s grandfather, sat in his beige leather recliner with Olive and Bee piled in his lap.
If Evangeline tried really hard, she could almost pretend they were back in his old apartment on Forty-Second Street instead of a nursing home she could barely afford. But no amount of pretending could dislodge the lump from her throat. As grateful as she was that he’d been able to bring a few pieces of furniture from home and the staff allowed her to bring the dogs by to visit once a week, she still wished things could be different.
He was putting on a brave face, but the nurses had already told Evangeline he’d seemed depressed since he’d moved in. Somehow, the fact that he was protecting her feelings instead of the other way around only made her feel worse.
But that’s how it had always been. Grandpa Bob was more than just a grandfather. He was her family—what was left of it, anyway. Old habits died hard.
“My job?” Where to start? Let’s see—with my famous bachelor boss who I accidentally slept with or the fact that the late-night hours are killing me?
She’d fallen asleep standing straight up in the wine cooler the night before. When she’d woken up, she’d spied Ryan watching her from across the room, his dark gaze as penetrating as ever through the frosted glass. Or maybe she’d just been dreaming of him. She hadn’t quite decided which prospect was more mortifying.
“The job is fine.” She smiled, then blinked in an effort to eradicate the image of Ryan Wilde in one of his sleek designer suits from her mind. Hopeless.
“Fine?” Grandpa Bob’s hand paused, midscratch, on the top of Bee’s furry little head. “You thought you wouldn’t be able to land a sommelier position until you passed your certification exam. I assumed the reason you’ve been glowing since you walked in here was because you’d snagged your dream job.”
“It is. I have.” Her face went hot. “I mean, I’m not glowing.”
“You are,” he countered.
“I’m not.” Evangeline’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not wearing your glasses. I probably just look blurry around the edges.”
That had to be it, because she was absolutely not glowing when she thought about Ryan Wilde. He had enough women glowing all over Manhattan.
Her grandfather laughed, and her face grew even warmer.
She cleared her throat. “It’s definitely my dream job. It’s just a tad more challenging than I thought it would be.”
She would have liked to blame Ryan, just because. But while she might have been able to con
vince herself that his mere presence was distracting to the point of exhaustion, it didn’t explain why she’d been unable to accurately identify any of the whites at her wine study group earlier this afternoon.
She was off her game.
That never happened.
Evangeline was the best taster in the group. Usually, anyway. When she’d confidently classified the second glass in the tasting as a sauvignon blanc from the southern Bordeaux region of France, the other members of the group had simply stared at her with their mouths agape.
Now wasn’t the time to be making those kinds of mistakes. Not when there was a Michelin star on the line.
“I’ll be fine, though. I was born for that job.” Again, she was distracted. That was all.
Had she been rattled by Ryan’s announcement that he was changing to the night shift and she was to work directly under him? Sure. But she’d survived the first week, hadn’t she?
Survived might be a stretch. You’ve been hiding from him for five straight days.
“Of course you were born for it.” Grandpa Bob nodded. His smile quickly faded and was replaced with a pensive expression that made her heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vise. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t save the vineyard. I didn’t know...”
Evangeline shook her head in an effort to get him to stop.
She couldn’t believe he’d brought up the vineyard. They’d spent almost two decades steadfastly avoiding the topic. It hurt too much to think about so much loss, and besides, he’d done nothing wrong. Not one thing.
Losing the vineyard had been her father’s doing. And in a way, her mother’s.
“It’s okay. The job at the Bennington is the chance I’ve been waiting for. It’s a fresh start.” And boy, did she ever need one. For once she was glad that her grandfather never seemed to remember Jeremy’s name. At least she wouldn’t have to explain the breakup. And the subsequent job loss.
She wasn’t exactly lying to Grandpa Bob. She was protecting him from the ugly truth. His whole life had recently been turned upside-down. All he needed to know was that she’d gotten a new job working as a sommelier at one of the most exclusive hotels in New York.
For now.
She pasted on a smile and ignored the churning in the pit of her stomach. She could be the best damn sommelier the Bennington could hope for. Better, even. She simply needed to get some rest, clear her head and most of all, rid her thoughts of Ryan Wilde.
That’s what days off were for, right?
She nodded resolutely, and then, as if fate itself were mocking her, her cell phone chimed with an incoming text. She glanced at the display as Grandpa Bob switched gears and began talking about pizza night in the nursing home’s dining room.
Zander Wilde: Sorry to bother you on your day off, but are you available to evaluate a restaurant tonight?
She stared at the words on the tiny screen. Before she could type a response, the phone chimed again.
Zander Wilde: Should have mentioned it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant. Would like your input on the wine.
Here it was...her chance to get back on track and prove her worth without being distracted by Ryan’s handsome face popping into her periphery every five minutes.
She really needed to stop thinking about how good-looking he was.
And she would.
Starting right now.
“Sorry, Grandpa. I just need to answer this text. It looks like I’ll have to work tonight after all.”
“Go right ahead. Do what you need to do, although we’ll miss you around here this evening at pizza night.” He smiled. Olive and Bee peered up at her, wagging their tails.
Pizza with a bunch of senior citizens and two snuggly dogs actually sounded lovely, but so did dinner at an upscale eatery that had been awarded a coveted Michelin star. Especially if she could enjoy said dinner with the very professional, very married Zander Wilde instead of his hot bachelor of a cousin.
She tapped out a response.
Evangeline Holly: Of course. Where and when should I meet you?
Zander Wilde: The Bennington limo will pick you up at 8.
Perfect.
Chapter Six
“We’re here, sir.” Tony, the Bennington chauffeur, met Ryan’s gaze in the rearview mirror of the limousine. “Shall I go fetch Ms. Holly?”
Ryan glanced at the steps leading up to Evangeline’s building and the intricately carved red door that, seven weeks ago, had been shut so resolutely in his face. “No, I’ll do it.”
He had no idea what Zander had told her about this impromptu field trip. When he’d mentioned calling Evangeline to discuss arrangements for transportation, Zander assured him it was already taken care of.
Surely he’d warned her that Ryan would be her companion for the four-course meal awaiting them at Mon Ami Jules on the Upper West Side. Then again, why would Zander consider Ryan’s presence worth mentioning? As he’d reiterated more than once, this wasn’t a date. It was business.
All the same, he doubted she’d be thrilled to find him waiting for her in the intimate confines of the limo’s back seat unless she was expecting him. She might even consider it disastrous. If she was going to toss that word out again, Ryan preferred it to happen outside of Tony’s earshot.
“Yes, sir,” Tony said with a nod. “I’ll wait at the curb.”
Ryan climbed out of the sleek black car. Rock salt crunched beneath his feet as he made his way up the steps, and a sensation that felt too much like desire stirred deep in his gut as he approached Evangeline Holly’s threshold.
It’s not a date—pretend, real or otherwise.
His jaw clenched, and he rapped on the door.
The knock was met with an explosion of barks coming from within the apartment. The door swung open at once, revealing a panicked Evangeline stooping to shush the two little spaniels that Ryan had encountered on his previous visit.
“Olive and Bee,” he said. The pendulum swing of their tails intensified at the sound of their names. “Nice to see you again.”
Evangeline popped up, ramrod straight, with a dog tucked beneath each arm. They both squirmed gleefully as the color drained from Evangeline’s exquisite face. Her perfect pink mouth fell open, and Ryan’s gaze flitted briefly to her tongue.
A thousand inappropriate ideas came to mind. Possibly more.
Each and every one of them began with capturing her face in his hands and holding her still while he kissed her again. Slowly...deeply.
Thoroughly.
“You,” she finally said, without any sort of preamble.
He’d been right. Zander clearly hadn’t been forthcoming with the details. Score one for intuition.
“Expecting someone else?” Ryan arched a brow.
She shook her head. Too hard. Too fast. “No.”
Ryan arched his brow a notch higher.
She sighed. “Okay, yes. I might have thought I was meeting Zander for dinner.”
He shrugged one shoulder as he reached to give Olive a scratch behind one of her copper-colored ears, remembering to approach her from the left side since she was blind in her right eye. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’m not disappointed,” she said without meeting his gaze. “Just...”
“Rattled?”
The last time they’d been alone together, they’d nearly ended up in a lip-lock, despite vowing to one another it was a terrible idea. He knew she was rattled. Hell, so was he.
Her cheeks flared pink.
“No. Surprised, that’s all,” she countered.
“Good, because there’s no reason to be nervous around me, Evangeline. None. I’m certainly not going to force myself on you.” His attention drifted to her mouth again. Damn it. “Nor am I going to kiss you.”
She swallowed hard, and he traced the movement up and down the
slender column of her throat before forcing himself to look her in the eye. “You have my word. This is a business dinner.”
For a long, loaded moment, neither of them said anything. Evangeline’s eyes glittered like frosted blue diamonds, but somewhere in their luminous depths, Ryan could have sworn he saw a spark of disappointment. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.
“A business dinner.” Evangeline nodded. “Of course. What else would it be?”
She shot him a bright smile. So bright that he knew it wasn’t real.
What were they doing? This was absurd. They were obviously attracted to each other. Would it really be so bad to act on that attraction...again?
“Eve...” He knew he wasn’t supposed to call her that, but it was a deliberate choice. It was easier to pretend at the Bennington, to deny the pull he felt toward her. The need.
But they weren’t at the Bennington now. Here, they’d touched. Here, they’d kissed. They’d been different people here. It was impossible to pretend otherwise.
She took a deep breath, and he could see the struggle in her eyes. He could feel it in the way her body arched toward him, as if they were dance partners.
Then one of the dogs emitted a snuffling sound somewhere between a bark and sneeze, and the magic spell was broken. Ryan heard footsteps behind him. Evangeline’s gaze shot over his shoulder, and faster than he could process, she shoved Olive at his chest, grabbed his wrist and hauled him inside her apartment.
The door slammed shut.
Ryan stumbled backward. “What the...?” Olive licked his left eye before he could complete the thought.
