Chapter 6
six
. . .
Vicky
I knew I’d face Miles at some point tonight since I was in his house, but that knowledge didn’t prepare me for seeing him again in the flesh.
Oh. My. Goodness. This man was not real.
His sandy-blond hair was a little longer on top than when I saw him almost a year ago, and other than looking exhausted, he was a Viking warrior straight out of one of my romance novels.
His piercing blue eyes bore a hole through me as he gazed into mine.
Shaking the image of him in a horned helmet and animal-skin coat, I tried to understand what was happening.
He was surprised to see me; that much was obvious.
Apparently, Angelica, as she asked me to call her, didn’t tell him I would be here, and I wasn’t sure why.
My hands were so sweaty, I fought the urge to wipe them down my legs, but I gathered my inner goddess, as Corinna had taught me, and faced him.
“Ciao, Miles. How are you?” I said quietly, my voice making him blink furiously. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but no words came out.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off me, which was unsettling. Miles stared so long I began to fear he didn’t want me there. Panicked, I handed MJ back her dress—the exact shade of pink she wanted for her bedroom—and readied myself to leave.
“Ah, sorry. I’ll, um, get out of your hair now since you’re home. Sorry,” I repeated, grabbing my purse from the floor. “Angelica, just let me know what else you need from me. Thank you for having me over.” I prayed the burn in my cheeks was less noticeable than I feared.
I took a few steps, heading for the door. Miles blinked several more times, making me fear he might be having a medical emergency. Before I could ask if he was alright, his quick words halted me just before I got to the door.
“You’re here. In San Diego. In my house. My house in S-San Diego,” he stammered. I raised my eyebrows in confusion and a little amusement. What on earth would make him so nervous? Surely it wasn’t me. Maybe no one told him I was working here now.
“Daddy, is your blood sugar dropping again? You know how hangry you get when you don’t eat,” MJ said with concern, tossing the dress on her bed and looking up at him.
He looked from her to me to his mother, his mouth still gaping.
“Miles, Sofia told you that Vicky was moving here. But tonight is my fault,” Angelica said, rushing over to him, laying her warm hand on my forearm, keeping me from moving as she spoke to her son.
“I meant to call and let you know that she’d be here tonight.
Remember I said I knew how to take care of your party?
That’s what Vicky’s here for. Well, that and to redesign your house. She has some wonderful ideas.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you hadn’t called Miles. If tonight is not a good time, I can come back,” I said as I looked at her, avoiding eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of me.
Angelica made a face that said, “do something” to Miles, and he finally snapped out of his stupor.
“No, no, V-Vicky. Tonight is great. I just didn’t know who my mother was bringing over to help. Sorry.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his biceps flexing against his shirt, and I fought the urge to gape at them.
His office must have been pretty laid-back because he wore a short-sleeved shirt.
What nearly took my breath away was an intricate tattoo that peeked out from under one sleeve.
It was all quite distracting and made me want to stutter my own response.
Instead, I smiled, forcing my shoulders to relax as I nodded. He held out his hand for me to shake, and I discreetly wiped mine on my jeans before offering it up to him.
When his warm palm slid against mine, the breath in my lungs was stolen just like when we first met. His head tilted as he looked into my eyes. Those icy-blue orbs pulled me into his orbit, and we both stood there, not moving, not speaking.
The dusting of blond hair on his corded forearm was raised, matching the goosebumps on mine. What was happening?
Miles was still shaking my hand when Angelica cleared her throat. He quickly let go of my hand as if it were on fire and looked away.
“O-kay,” she said, elongating the word, a smirk clearly evident in her voice. “How about we all go get some dinner and talk about the house and the party?”
Miles turned sharply and all but raced out of the room, with the rest of us following.
I’d need to call Ren soon to help me decipher all of this. She was more knowledgeable about men and these type of situations.
“Angelica, I don’t want to interrupt a family dinner,” I protested when we all made it to the kitchen. Miles lifted a pot lid off and yelped, dropping it on the floor with a crash as he stuck his thumb in his mouth.
“Good grief, Miles. Please go sit down before you hurt yourself more or break something,” his mother chided as he blushed.
I may not have much, ahem, any, experience with men, but he seemed as nervous around me as I was with him. The question was why?
MJ took him by the hand and sat with him at the dining room table, shaking her head, as if he were the child and she the parent.
“And Vicky, I won’t take no for an answer. You’re staying,” Angelica said firmly, washing her hands and starting to plate up the chicken and vegetables. “Sorry Dean couldn’t stay. He promised a friend he’d help him put some furniture together.”
Walking over to the table, I sat across from Miles, trying to put some room between us at the wide wooden table. He stole a few glances before standing to take a platter from his mother. When she was seated, she said a quick prayer and started passing around the food.
“So, your mom says you’d like to redo some of the rooms here. Maybe add some furniture. Once I get an idea of what you’d like, your preferred style, then we can talk about the party and what we can get in time,” I said between bites, trying to end the weird vibe in the room.
When the table started vibrating, I leaned over and saw Miles’ leg jiggling under it. Angelica gave him a wide-eyed look, and the jiggling stopped.
“Ah, well, I’m really not sure. For now, I was thinking of changing some of the paint colors and getting some more furniture in the living room in time for the party,” he said. “I confirmed with the staff for two Saturdays from now,” he answered, not making eye contact.
This was going to be interesting.
When Angelica called last night, I was surprised to hear from her.
She told me that Miles and MJ had moved back to the San Diego area, which stirred up strange feelings inside me.
Unsure how long I’d actually be here for this job, the thought of seeing him more often was both terrifying and exciting.
I was still in my first week at Elena’s firm and navigating mounds of paperwork.
When I told her assistant, Anna, that I might have my first client, she said she’d let Elena know.
This afternoon, I received a kind email from Elena herself.
She was working on a beautiful mansion in the LA area, so I had yet to meet her.
She wanted me to report to Anna in the morning after meeting with Miles.
I may have done a little jig while reading it and possibly printed it out to save. Possibly.
“Great, well, MJ and Angelica have the color wheel for the paint. As far as furniture, what style did you have in mind?” I asked again.
Miles put down his fork and scratched the back of his neck.
“Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t know the first thing about styles. MJ and I just want our house to be a home. Comfortable, clean.” He made eye contact with me for a moment before looking away. “Can’t help you much. Sorry.”
I reached for his forearm but pulled my hand back quickly, forgetting myself. I was a tactile person, but Miles looked at my hand like I had yanked the pin out of a hand grenade.
“That’s actually alright. After spending some time in the house tonight, and talking with MJ and Angelica, I’ve got some ideas to put together for you.
” Waving my hands around the spacious room, I continued, “My thoughts are finding a way to make your furnishings match the architectural style of the house, but also make it your own. I’ll pass my ideas on to my boss and come up with a few choices for you. ”
Miles smiled and nodded in agreement before going back to eating. There was a weird tension in the room, and every time I looked up at Angelica, she had that ever-present smirk on her face, like she had a secret.
That was about the time I realized something I hadn’t known about this gorgeous man. When he smiled, even though it was only for a moment, there was a hint of a dimple.
Seriously? Does he have to be so perfect?
A girl needs a warning before flashing that dimple! Was he trying to kill me?
Shaking my head to knock loose that image, I turned to his mother. “Angelica, this chicken is delicious. My mom’s is amazing, but this is in the running for first place,” I said, a happy hum on my lips.
Miles stopped eating and closed his eyes with a deep inhale. I gave him a side-eye but said nothing.
What was that all about?
“Are you practicing for our next dance-off, Vicky?” MJ said, pushing her empty plate away from her.
They ate their dinner much faster than I did, and I found myself eating faster, too. Being Italian meant having a more leisurely meal, but apparently not in American culture. That was something I’d have to get used to.
“Dance-off? And you should call her Ms. Vicky, kiddo,” Miles said warmly.
“Oh, sorry, that’s my fault. I told her she could call me that,” I answered sheepishly.
He looked up at me, his eyes scanning my face. “That’s okay, then.”