Chapter 3
Charlie had a blast at dinner.Nick chose a place called Il Trovatore, which Charlie had never been to, but which had the best pumpkin gnocchi she’d ever tasted. They shared a bottle of white wine, then a bottle of red wine to balance it out. Then a rosé so as not to play favorites.
They toasted to Hector’s eighty percent chance of survival. Then they toasted to Nick’s sixty percent chance of winning his daughter’s approval. Charlie proposed a toast to her own five percent chance of bonding with Goldilocks.
“Realistic yet not giving up. I approve, Charlie Santa Lucia.” He lifted his glass in a toast. He didn’t seem to mind spending money, making it clear from the start that this dinner was on him. Maybe he was on an expense account.
After the fourth bottle of wine, she wondered just how generous that expense account was.
“Still clear as a bell, by the way,” she told him as she polished off bottle four. It’s almost impossible to get me drunk.”
“Wouldn’t think of trying.”
“See, I’m tall. I’m not sure you noticed. It takes a lot of wine to make me even slightly buzzed. I have body mass on my side.”
“You know, I did notice.” His eyes were dark and warm and reminded her of those of her first crush. He propped his elbows on the table. “Where’d your height come from, your mother or father?”
Odd question. Or maybe not. She wasn’t sure. Maybe the wine was actually catching up to her. “Why do you ask?”
“Been thinking a lot about genetics lately, since my daughter came into my life. I had nothing to do with raising her. But we have these funny similarities anyway. Not just physical, like this.” He pointed to his left eyebrow, which had a higher arch than his right. “Same eyebrows, poor kid. But it’s more than that. She likes the outdoors, same as me. Loves sweets, same as me. She procrastinates like a champ, same as me, but also works best under pressure. Same as me.”
“I’m like that too.”
“See? Did you get that from either of your parents, or is it just the way you are?”
“In general, I’m more like my father. I never felt like my mom and I had much in common. Our height, our hair, that’s about it. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl.”
Nick’s eyes glinted over the rim of his glass, before he set it down. “I wish my daughter was a daddy’s girl, but it’s probably too late for that. Were you always close to your father, or did it happen later in life? Give me some hope here.”
She wanted to give him hope. But talking about her father…oh, what was the harm? Being cagey all the time took its toll.
“My father doted on me. He probably spoiled me, but it didn’t feel that way at the time. He was my best friend. I could always run to him with my little problems and he always took me seriously and helped me feel better. He made me feel like I could do anything, like I was a mini-Wonder Woman. I heard someone say once that when you’re a child, as long as there’s one person who really believes in you, you’ll be okay. That was my dad for me. That’s why?—”
Good lord. Under Nick’s interested gaze, she’d almost blabbed about her father going to prison.
“That’s why I’d do anything for him,” she said instead.
His eyebrow lifted. “Dramatic statement. How do you mean? Is he okay?”
The need to talk about him overwhelmed her better judgment. “He’s…sick. He has a form of emphysema that needs pretty intensive treatment.”
“So you’re helping him out?”
“Yes.” Leave it at that. “I wish I could do more, but he, uh, doesn’t live here. I’m trying to change that.”
“That’s kind of you. Taking care of a parent is a lot of work.”
Unexpectedly, her eyes welled with tears. If only she could do that kind of hands-on caregiving. If she had the opportunity, she’d throw herself into it. She’d make sure her father had every comfort, every favorite food, anything he wanted after fifteen years in prison.
She stared into her glass of wine to hide her surge of emotion.
“Sorry,” Nick said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I just want him to be okay. Where he is, he isn’t necessarily getting the best medical treatment.”
“Health insurance issues? That’s the worst. If it’s a financial issue, I have some connections.”
“Connections?” She blinked at him.
“I know people who know things, put it that way.”
Was he talking about insider trading? Was this a setup? She tried to shake off the wine haze and think more clearly. “I’m fine. I have plenty of money.”
His tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Sorry, didn’t mean to overstep. Being in the investment world, sometimes it seems obscene how much money is floating around. If just a little bit of that went to ordinary people, we’d be a whole lot better off.”
That sentiment echoed her entire life philosophy so precisely that she nearly gasped. He didn’t seem to notice, busy now with cutting a piece of his veal piccata.
It was almost eerie that he would say such a thing. Or was it? It was probably a fairly common opinion, although most people didn’t act on it the way she did. But what if it was suspicious? What if he was playing her, trying to win her trust?
And then what? Pull her into some inside trading thing? What would his endgame be? Maybe she was being paranoid.
On the other hand, her instincts were pretty well-honed. What they told her about Nick Perini was that he was a good guy, but not entirely on the level.
She lifted her glass of wine in another toast. “To ordinary people,” she said.
Was that a flash of disappointment in his eyes? She couldn’t tell anymore. “To all people, ordinary and extraordinary.”
Now there was definitely something in his dark gaze—flattery. It went to her head much faster than the wine. She should stop this in its tracks. No matter how attractive she found him, this was the wrong time for her to have a fling. She didn’t need the distraction. “Are you complimenting me or yourself?”
“Depends. Do you like compliments?”
“What person doesn’t like compliments?”
“You know what Georgia O’Keefe said. ‘I’ve already decided the matter for myself, so criticism and flattery both go down the same drain and?—”
“I am quite free,” she finished with him. “That’s one of my favorite quotes.”
“It’s a good one.” He toasted again. “To Georgia O’Keefe’s drain.”
“To Georgia’s drain,” she agreed, and they both tossed back their glasses. She set hers on the table and covered it with her hand. “You know, I can see how a bunch of drinks fifteen years ago got you into trouble.”
“Good trouble,” he corrected. “I just wish I’d known about her earlier. My own fault.”
She liked the way he talked about his daughter, and even his daughter’s mother. No blame, no anger, just trying to do his best. He kept getting more appealing.
“I should get home. My goldfish is probably worried sick about me.”
He nodded and signaled for the check. No arguing. No suggesting they continue the encounter elsewhere. She appreciated his lack of pushiness, but it also irked her. He was just as attracted to her as she was to him. That much was clear. Maybe he didn’t have time for a distraction either.
“Are you okay to drive?” he asked as he helped her on with her jacket—a coppery suede that set off her blond hair.
“I’m almost six feet of nearly sober.”
“It’s that nearly part…”
“I’m actually taking a Lyft, so don’t you worry. How about you? You drank just as much wine as I did.”
“I walked from my hotel.” He hesitated, making her wonder if he was going to ask her to his room. She both wanted him to and didn’t want him to. She’d say no, of course, but the temptation would be strong, and there was that “nearly” sober part. “Can I see you again before I leave?”
Leave? This was his first mention of leaving, and she discovered that she didn’t like the idea. But of course he’d be leaving. He was only here for business. “When are you leaving?”
“Between a few days and a few weeks, depending on how things go.”
A few days. That felt very soon. “I go running in the park most days before breakfast.”
“I’ll see you there,” he said promptly.
“I don’t really like having to adjust my pace.”
“Then I’ll just wave as I pass you by.” He grinned in open challenge.
“Oh really?” If there was one thing she couldn’t resist, it was a race. She loved going fast, she loved competing. It reminded her of her track team days with Molly, Lila and Ani. “Winner buys breakfast?”
“You’re on.”