Tina shook her head. “These are personal. Mostly of my family.”
“I like this one of you sitting by the pond reading a book,” he said, pointing to a black-and-white photo. “How old were you?”
It embarrassed her a little, felt strangely intimate looking at photographs of herself with a man she barely knew. Especially Yana’s pictures, which seemed to capture the very soul of a person.
“Eighteen, I think.” She shrugged. “It was a candid shot, taken with a telephoto lens from my aunt’s studio. She’s always sneaking around taking pictures of the family when we’re not looking. It drives us crazy.”
To distract him, she pointed to another picture. “That’s my aunt.”
“She’s a beautiful woman.”
With her dark hair and exotic looks, Yana Alexander, even at forty-eight, could still make men forget their own names and stumble over their feet.
“She was in Spain at the time, photographing bull fighters,” Tina said. “One of the toreadors took her camera and shot this picture of her.”
The man had also been her aunt’s lover, Tina knew, but she didn’t think she needed to mention that.
“I see a resemblance,” Reid said thoughtfully.
It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She had to give it to him. He was smooth as glass. “I don’t look anything like my aunt, Mr. Danforth.”
“You have her eyes.” He turned to study her face. “And her mouth.”
Tina felt her pulse shudder when his gaze lingered on her mouth. Very smooth. It irritated her to no end that she was not immune to the man’s charm. But, in all fairness to herself, Reid Danforth was certainly not your average man. He was a prime male specimen, with just enough of an edge to make him a touch mysterious.
Working at the bakery, she came into contact with a lot of the local businessmen. Occasionally there’d be an exchange of harmless flirting or innocent banter. She’d even dated a couple of the men. She’d never thought it a big deal or wanted to take it any further.
With Reid, though, something told her it wouldn’t be quite so innocent or harmless. Warning flags were waving in her head, signaling her to take another road.
Still, she thought, lifting a brow and meeting his steady gaze, as long as she didn’t lose touch with reality—reality being the fact that there was no chance of any kind of relationship between them—then she had no reason to worry. She could hold her own against the likes of Reid Danforth.
She held out the key in her hand. “I believe you came here for this.”
“Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“Are you hungry?” he repeated. “I’m going to grab a burger down the street.”
Not only smooth, she thought in disbelief, but he moved fast.
But then, she already knew that.
“I made plans.” The fact that they’d been changed were none of his business. “But thanks, anyway.”
One corner of his mouth tilted up, then he took the key and nodded. “See you tomorrow, T.”
She frowned at the closed door after Reid left. How did he know her nickname? Unless…
She glanced at the vent beside the sofa. It did back up to the laundry room, she realized. On a groan, she closed her eyes. Had he heard her conversation with Rachel? If he had, then he knew she’d been lying about having plans.
Well, so what if he had? She crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t hurt the man to find out that there might be a few women left in Savannah who weren’t completely taken in by that damn smile of his. You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. He’d asked her to get a burger with him. That was hardly what anyone would call a date, for heaven’s sake.
She knew she was overreacting and decided that was another reason to keep her distance. She’d known him less than a day, and already he’d seriously slanted her equilibrium.
But as she moved past an oval, wood-framed mirror on the wall, she stopped and looked at herself. Her eyes, then her mouth.
Just for a second she wondered.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. She shook her head and frowned.
“Idiot,” she said out loud, and wasn’t certain if she was speaking to herself or Reid.
Three
A cup of coffee in his hand, Reid stepped out of his car the next morning and breathed in the titillating smells wafting on the cool, predawn air. Though the lights were not yet on in the bakery or the Open sign in the window, it was obvious that while most of the city was still sleeping, Ivan Alexander was busy baking for the day ahead.
On the deserted sidewalk, Reid paused and glanced up at Tina’s apartment. A soft light edged the closed blinds, and he wondered if she’d already left for work or if she was still up there.
He had an odd feeling that she was.
It was strange, but he’d had the same feeling yesterday, when he’d been standing on the sidewalk with the furniture rental people. The blinds had been partially open, and though he hadn’t actually seen her, he’d felt her. Sort of a prickling sensation at the base of his neck.
Weird, he thought, then laughed at himself.
Letting himself in the front door, he flipped on the overhead lights and glanced around. The movers had brought in ten desks yesterday, plus filing cabinets and tables. Phones lines would be hooked up this morning and computers would be installed in the early afternoon. He had set up two private offices in the back, one for himself and one for Nicola. Since she was his father’s campaign manager, she’d be the one running the show.
Hands on his hips, he stood in the middle of the room that would soon be filled with volunteers and family and he listened to the absolute quiet.
A floorboard creaked above his head and he looked up, followed the sound across the ceiling. So she was upstairs. Leaning back against a desk, he sipped on his coffee and stared at the ceiling.
Had she just gotten out of bed? he wondered. An image of tangled sheets, tousled, golden-brown hair and sleepy eyes came to his mind.
His blood stirred at the thought.
Was she the cotton pajama or silk nightie type? Or maybe, he thought with a smile, she slept in the buff.
That thought stirred more than his blood.
Maybe it was for the best that she’d turned down his offer to get something to eat last night. The woman was a distraction, something he didn’t need right now. Something he didn’t want.
Still, he thought, listening to the sound of her moving around upstairs, a guy could dream, couldn’t he? He took another swig of coffee. No harm in that.
Movement on the sidewalk outside the front window caught Reid’s attention. A man who looked familiar hurried past, and Reid recognized him as one of the counter clerks from the bakery. The guy with the blond ponytail. A moment later the sound of a door buzzer filtered down through the vent upstairs. The man hadn’t gone to the bakery, Reid realized. He’d gone upstairs.
Reid frowned. A little early to come visiting, wasn’t it?
He heard the sound of footsteps moving to the door, muffled voices, then movement again toward—Reid furrowed his brow to remember the layout of the apartment—the sofa, he guessed. Or the bedroom?
Pushing away from the desk, Reid moved closer to the vent and listened. Though it was hard to hear everything, he could distinguish between Tina’s voice and the man’s, and was able to catch snippets of what they were saying.
“I can’t go on like this…” Man’s voice.
Tina’s voice. “Jason, please be patient and I’m sure we can…”
Man’s voice again. “…been patient and nothing has changed…”
Heavy footsteps started, back and forth across the ceiling. The man—Jason—was obviously pacing.
“…a solution,” Tina said. “I promise.”
Reid concentrated, trying to hear more than bits and pieces of the conversation. He wanted to yell up at them to talk louder.
“I’m going to tell them,” Jason said, the frustration heavy in his vo
ice. “We’re in love. They’ll have to accept it.”
Reid went still. Tina and the counter clerk? In love?
The vent was too high to get any closer. He considered dragging a desk chair over and standing on it, but that was a little extreme. Besides, it might be a little difficult to explain if someone saw him with his ear pressed up to the vent.
“…to get to work now,” Jason said. “…not giving up.”
Footsteps moved back toward the door, then silence.
Confused, Reid stared at the vent for a long moment. He didn’t know what, but something wasn’t quite on the mark here.
You heard what you heard, pal, a voice in his head said. Let it go.
Still…
Oh, hell. He shook his head, wondered why he was having such a difficult time believing that Tina was in love with the bakery clerk. Because of something he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes yesterday? Because of something he’d thought he’d felt when he’d taken her hand in his?
Frowning, he downed the rest of his coffee and crumpled the paper cup in his hand. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to believe it. Because he had designs on her himself.
But if she’d been so in love with this guy, then why hadn’t she simply said she was seeing someone when he’d asked her out? Reid knew he hadn’t exactly been subtle letting her know he was interested.
Who the hell could figure women out? he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. He should be glad she was involved with someone else. He’d known her one day, and already she’d occupied way too much of his brain space. He had a hundred things to do if he was going to have this office up and running by tomorrow. Not one of those things involved a pretty, golden-eyed temptress whose image had kept him awake half the night.
Tossing his crumpled cup into a trash can, he headed for the back office to unload the dozen or so boxes of office supplies that had been delivered yesterday afternoon.
Suddenly, the day—the year—stretching out ahead of him seemed very long, and very boring, indeed.
That entire morning the bell over the bakery door never stopped ringing. Currently a line of customers stretched six deep. Nearly every table and chair were occupied. It wasn’t even eleven, Tina realized, and the muffins were gone, the Danish nearly depleted and only a few loaves of bread remained on the shelves.
But still, the biggest seller for the morning at Castle Bakery wasn’t baked goods or even the coffee bar, Tina noted while she crammed blue icing into a pastry bag.
It was gossip.
“Mariska Alexander, I declare, y’all must be dizzy with delight.” Sharie Jo Sullivan pressed a bag of chocolate rugala to her chest, then glanced at her sister, Louzanna. “Imagine, Lulu, right next door to Abraham Danforth’s campaign headquarters.”
“The Savannah Morning calls him Honest Abe II.” Louzanna handed three bills to Mariska, then dug in her coin purse. “I hear he intends to run a clean, scandal-free campaign.”
“What do I know about politics?” Mariska said with indifference. “They will be good tenants. Anything else is of no interest to me.”
Louzanna lifted a dubious brow. “And I suppose the fact that Abraham’s sons and nephews and all those other eligible bachelors gathered in one place, no more than a few yards from here, doesn’t interest you, either.”
Mariska shrugged, then slowly smiled and leaned across the counter. “Like fish in a barrel,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
The women all laughed.
Tina’s grip tightened on the pastry bag, and blue icing exploded onto the middle of the sheet cake she’d just frosted. Gritting her teeth, she reached for a knife to scrape off the errant icing.
“We saw Rachel talking with Reid Danforth on the sidewalk last night,” Sharie Jo whispered. “After the bakery was closed.”
Tina glanced over to the coffee bar where Jason was steaming milk for a latte. Every time Reid’s name had been mentioned this morning—which had been numerous times—Jason’s eye had started to twitch. She wanted to tell him that Reid was no threat to him, but she knew Jason wouldn’t believe her. Especially now, after listening to the female customers expound on the Danforth attributes.
Tina could only hope that the novelty would wear off after a few days and the gossipmongers would find something—or someone—else to occupy their minds. But considering the high profile of the Danforth company, Tina seriously doubted that was going to happen anytime soon. While her mother, Sharie Jo and Louzanna prattled on, Tina forced her attention back to writing “Happy Birthday, Randy” on her cake, determined not to let their conversation bother her.
“All those eligible bachelors,” Louzanna said with a sigh. “Ah, if only I was ten years younger.”
Sharie Jo rolled her eyes. “Then you’d still be ten years too old.”
“Don’t be sassy, Sharie Jo,” Louzanna said with a sniff, then tucked an imaginary loose strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Besides I wasn’t thinking of the younger Danforth men, I was talking about Abraham.” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality. “A handsome widow in his fifties. Surely the man must be lonely.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Lulu,” Sharie Jo said. “Rich, powerful, handsome men are never lonely. Bored, maybe. Lonely, no.”
In the middle of writing the t in birthday, Tina went still. Is that why Reid had asked her out last night? she wondered. Because he was bored? To say that she was different from the women he usually dated was probably the understatement of the century. Blue-blooded Savannah socialites and debutantes were more up his alley. Women with names like Caroline or Blair or—what was the name of the woman in the magazine article she’d plucked from the magazine rack and read this morning? Oh, yeah. She curled one corner of her lip. Mitzi.
Like Sharie Jo said, rich, handsome, powerful men were never lonely. Reid had probably dated dozens of women. Tina shrugged a shoulder, annoyed that she was wasting brain space wondering about the man’s love life. Who Reid Danforth did or didn’t date certainly had no bearing on her life. They were neighbors for the next year, that was all.
After he’d left her apartment last night, she’d seen him walk across the street and order a pizza at D’mores. Later in the evening, long after she’d gone to bed, she’d heard him working downstairs. She’d done her best to concentrate on the mystery novel she’d been reading, but her mind had kept wandering, wondering what he was doing.
Wondering what might have happened if she had gone out with him.
“Maybe I would have been the one bored,” she muttered out loud.
“Did you say something, Katina?” Mariska glanced over.
“No,” she said quickly. “Nothing at all.”
When her mother turned back to her customers, Tina shook her head at her foolishness. She doubted Reid even remembered her name today, and here she was, talking to herself about the man.
Determined not to let thoughts of Reid Danforth distract her further, she finished the y in Randy, then looked at her work.
Happy Birtday, Randy.
Birtday?
So much for her determination not to be distracted.
Scowling, she reached for the knife again to fix her mistake, then added more white frosting to smooth the top of the cake. Completely focused now, she grabbed the pastry bag and concentrated on her work.
When every letter was perfect, Tina gave a satisfied nod. Lifting the pastry bag to dot the i, she happened to glance over as Reid walked in the door.
His gaze met hers and held, and though it was only for a moment, it felt like minutes. Hours. If a fire had broken out and she was surrounded by flames, she couldn’t have moved.
When one corner of his mouth lifted, her heart did a somersault, her hand tightened.
And blue icing oozed all over her cake.
Chastising herself, she looked away. Darn it! She’d been so proud of herself that she’d managed to resist the man’s charm, then he walks in the door with that you-want-me-you-know-you-do grin, and suddenly she can’t
breathe? How did he do that? she thought irritably.
Every head had turned. Conversation had died. When he walked through the crowd, it was like someone had rolled out a red carpet. And when he flashed that smile on the women in the bakery, they all but swooned.
He owned the room, Tina realized. His confidence, his demeanor, his presence. And his looks, she thought, appreciating the stretch of broad shoulders under his black polo shirt and the low slung worn jeans across lean hips and long legs. A woman didn’t stand a chance.
Well, except her, of course.
It took all of five seconds for the bakery to erupt into chaos and converge on Reid, another forty-five seconds for Tina’s mother to come around the counter and push her way through the crowd like a linebacker at the Super Bowl.
“Let the man sit.” Mariska shooed everyone away. “Jason, bring our new neighbor a cup of coffee.”
When Jason mumbled something under his breath, Tina shot him a warning glance. Nothing but trouble and heartache would come from any kind of public confrontation between the two men. A scowl on his face, Jason turned away, certainly not appeased, but for the moment, at least, contained.
“Thank you.” Reid plucked a ticket from the number machine. “But I can wait my turn.”
“Of course you will not wait,” Mariska said and everyone who still had tickets in their hand nodded their approval. “Latte, cappuccino, espresso?”
Tina rolled her eyes, surprised her mother didn’t add, my daughter’s hand in marriage?
“Black would be great,” Reid said. “But—”
“We have strudel still warm from the oven.” Mariska didn’t give Reid a chance to protest as she pulled him to a chair. “Tina, a slice of strudel for Mr. Danforth. And a nice apricot rugala.”
“Please, call me Reid,” he said to Mariska, then looked at Tina with a grin that clearly said he was enjoying himself. “I really don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It is no trouble,” Mariska said cheerfully. “Is it, Katina?”
Though it hurt, Tina smiled. “No, of course not. No trouble at all.”
“So tell me.” Mariska sat in the chair beside Reid. “Will your wife be helping you with the campaign?”
The Cinderella Scandal (Dynasties: The Danforths Book 1) Page 4
