Love Me Now (19 page)

I
t was the end of a very long and strange day. Shelly had gone home early and now Kenya was more than ready to go home. She'd just finished adding miniature crystal beads to a christening gown and her eyes were beginning to droop. She was exhausted.

She stuffed the satin bodice with tissue then wrapped it in muslin and put it in a small garment bag. After turning off the overhead lamp, she gathered her things. She dropped her sketch pad into her portfolio and headed to the front. Just as she got there, she looked up, posted on a smile then unlocked the door. “Hi.”

“Good evening. I presume you were expecting me?”

“Of course, come on in.” She opened the door wider and Trey walked inside. She smiled, seemingly ready to trap her fly. “We got your gift this morning, thank you. It was unexpected but most welcome.”

“I hope it was okay.” He turned to her, his expression calm and serene.

“Yes, as a matter of fact it was perfect. Everything was taken care of. Apparently it wasn't as bad as we were originally told. Your electrician was very thorough.”

“Good, I'm glad. I considered sending flowers and candy but they just seemed a bit ordinary.” He leaned back casually against the countertop.

“Oh, of course, and you're anything but ordinary,” she said as she leaned back on the counter beside him. “But you're right, if I'm not mistaken, a paid-in-full electrician is definitely a more appropriate next-day acknowledgement for a one-night stand.”

“Oh, a one-night stand, you make it sound so dispassionate. If I remember correctly we were anything but passionless.”

“Last night was a—” she began.

“Please don't say a mistake.”

“Last night was a lapse in judgment on my part.”

“A lapse in judgment would imply once. We lapsed three times, if I remember correctly.”

“Four, but who's counting,” she said, stepping away. “But that's what it was for all practical purposes. Calling it a one-night stand makes it civilized.”

“Lapse in judgment, um, that's disappointing.”

“Were you expecting something more?” she asked, turning to him.

He looked around, nodding. “Oh, I don't know, maybe a plumber, drywall hanger, carpet, heating and air-conditioning person, a couple of painters, maybe a few furniture deliverymen.”

She had to laugh. “You don't quit, do you?”

“No, and apparently neither do you,” he said.

“Where are the twins, still out?” she asked.

“Mrs. Thatcher is caring for them.”

“Your new nanny?” she asked. He nodded. “So how's she working out?”

“She's pretty good, very professional, stern, but fair. She's taken care of the twins before.”

“I see.”

“You know, you could have had that position.”

“That would mean me moving in for the week. After last night I hardly think that would be appropriate.”

“Maybe not appropriate, but interesting,” he said.

“You have a very naughty mind, Mr. Evans.”

“Let's see, you sleeping just down the hall. I think I like that idea. No, actually down the hall would be a bit far, given your appetite.”

“Okay, enough, you win. So what are you doing at this end of town? It's not exactly your usual hangout, is it?”

“How do you know what or where my hangouts are? Oh, that's right, you read up on me.”

“Obviously I missed a few articles.”

“Obviously, but to answer your question, I came to see you,” he said, his eyes softened with purpose. “You look particularly pleased with yourself this evening.”

“I am particularly pleased with myself this evening.”

“Aha, you think you have something on me, don't you?” he asked, stretching out a broad net of possibilities. She flinched. He smiled and chuckled with a knowing nod.

“I gave myself away, didn't I?” she asked. He nodded. “No problem. Yes, I do have something interesting.”

“Intriguing,” he said. “Now am I to guess, or will you be surprising me?”

“No need to guess, but be assured that I will use it, when the time comes.” She arched her brow for added meaning.

“Cryptic.” It was obvious that Trey loved this game.

“What happened between us last night doesn't change anything,” she told him.

“I'd be very disappointed if it did,” he said.

“I'm still going to get my father's company back.”

“You can try.”

“Would you like to give up now?” she asked. “Offer a mea culpa?”

“No. You?”

“Hardly,” she said.

“Good, then shall we begin negotiations?”

Kenya smiled coyly and looked away. “Actually, I was just about to call it a night. I'm a little tired. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.”

“What a coincidence, neither did I. Are you going home?” She nodded. “May I escort you home?”

“Sure, why not.” She grabbed her purse and garment bag from the counter then turned to pick up her portfolio. Trey picked it up for her.

“I missed you this morning,” he whispered too close. Her heart skipped as her stomach fluttered. This was so unfair. Why did it have to be him that took her breath away? What do you say to someone you're supposed to despise, when all you can think about is how much you want him? “Come on, let's go.”

They stepped outside and he waited as she locked the door and secured the gate. “It's raining again. Where's your car?” he asked.

“Down the street,” she said.

“We'd better make a run for it. Let's go,” he said, preparing her for a quick dash to the car.

“No, not necessary. I usually walk home.”

“Where do you live?” he asked. She looked straight up above them. Trey looked up to see apartments above the
boutique and other storefronts along that side of the street. It never occurred to him that there was more to the building.

“This way,” she said as the rain fell heavier. They hurried a few feet and came to an iron gate. She unlocked it with her key then they entered a small covered alcove. They passed through and entered a secluded enclosed garden area. There, a stone pathway encircled a small fountain. They hurried across to a narrow doorway. She unlocked it. They entered the lobby then headed to the large freight elevators. She unlocked the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. Moments later the elevator door opened at her condo.

“Come on in. I'll get some towels,” she said quickly before disappearing behind a screen.

When she returned with towels Trey was standing at the window looking down on the street. She walked over and handed him a towel. He turned to her.

“I think I like seeing you wet.”

The hope of not blushing wasn't even plausible. It seemed whatever this man said, innocent or not, she blushed. “Thanks. I think. Speaking of negotiations—” she began.

He leaned down into the curve of her neck and inhaled deeply. “Did I mention that your scent is intoxicating?” He lingered too long and a tingle of desire began to inch into her.

“We're negotiating, not smelling.”

“Attractive, intelligent, sexy, seductive…”

Kenya swallowed hard as she closed her eyes to stay her pounding heart and fluttering stomach. She was just about to grab and kiss him when she felt him lean back and walk away.

“Great view. I never imagined,” he said as he looked at her and not at the large windows behind him.

“Yeah, it's not bad,” she said quickly, then walked over and stood near the ledge. “It's better at sunset. The building faces west so there's a show every night. Also it's the general direc
tion where they do fireworks in town. I can just sit back, relax on the sofa and be amazed.”

“It sounds pretty good. Maybe I can get an invitation to check it out one of these days.”

“We'll see,” she said evasively.

After drying off, she made tea and they sat on the wide cushioned windowsill and watched the traffic crawl beneath them.

“Your home is really beautiful,” he said and looked at her admiringly.

“It's not exactly Woodley Park, but it's home.”

“It's comfortable, warm and inviting—it's you.”

“I liked it the instant I saw it. I know it's the typical artist loft and it's such a cliché. But it's perfect, close to work and everything.”

“So what have you got to eat in this artist loft?”

“Eat?” she questioned.

“Yeah, you know, food,” he said.

Kenya stood and walked over to the kitchen area. It was large and modern but empty. She opened the refrigerator and looked in. Trey stood right behind her. “Okay, I have eggs, bacon and a bunch of other stuff.”

“What do you usually eat after work?” he asked.

“I usually grab something on the way in.”

“That's terrible. Oh, that's right, you don't cook, you bake bread.”

“Of course I cook, it's just boring cooking for one.”

He removed his jacket, grabbed the eggs and bacon and some other ingredients from the refrigerator. He placed them on the counter then looked around. “Cheese, butter, onions?” he queried. She nodded then began to gather the ingredients. Once collected, she brought them to the counter.

“No onions. How about shallots?”

“Even better,” he said. “I need a cutting board, a sharp
knife, a skillet, a spoon and a spatula.” She delivered everything as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. She handed him a paper towel then washed her hands, too.

Trey stood at the stove while Kenya cut up the ingredients. She got out a bowl and he began mixing everything together. She was amazed how comfortable he seemed in the kitchen. He looked more like a sous chef than a businessman. Eventually Kenya relinquished her kitchen duties. She turned on the CD player and poured two glasses of wine. When everything was chopped and added, Trey poured the ingredients into the hot-buttered skillet. The mixture sizzled, instantly sending a heavenly aroma into the air.

“Yum, that smells fantastic. I haven't had an omelet in forever.”

“Not just an omelet, sweetheart, it's a frittata, an Italian omelet. That makes it special.” He grabbed the chopped herbs and more cheese and sprinkled them on top of the bubbling egg mixture.

“That's a work of art. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I wanted to be a chef.”

“What?”

“Aha—see, not everything about me is on Google. And some things you hear might not be the whole truth.”

They looked at each other for a second. His eyes captured and held her. Kenya quivered inside. If she didn't know any better she'd swear he knew what she was up to.

“But a chef?”

“A pastry chef to be exact. You should taste my pastries and pies.”

She opened her mouth but was speechless. The man insisted on surprising her at every turn. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he changed up on her.

Kenya just shook her head and took a sip of her wine as
she looked over at the stovetop. “Don't you need to flip it or something?”

“No, not with a frittata,” he said as he turned the oven's broiler on. Moments later he placed the skillet on the top shelf right beneath the fire. Within seconds the omelet was perfectly toasted. He pulled it out then added a sprig of parsley. Kenya busied herself setting the table. Trey walked over and looked at her handiwork—candles, china and wine. “Mind if I make a suggestion?”

“No, not at all,” she said.

He looked over to the large windows. The rain had stopped and the last of the day was fading in the west. The sky had brightened, the sun had peeked through and the color pallet was breathtaking. “How about dinner with a view?” he asked.

She nodded. “Perfect.” She reset the coffee table, adding the bottle of wine. Trey brought the sliced frittata and set it down. Kenya looked at him as he placed a slice on each of the plates then added a small salad with his special vinaigrette dressing. He poured more wine to top off their glasses.
It's business,
she tried to tell herself, but it just didn't work.

She bowed her head and said grace. When she looked up Trey was smiling at her. The truth and emotion in his eyes made her feel guilty. Her heart opened up, against everything she read and heard and believed. Against her mind, her head and her reason, she knew right then that she'd fallen for him.

“To you, Kenya, you're an incredible woman.” She nodded her gratitude as they touched glasses. “Come on, dig in.”

He cut a piece with his fork and took a bite, then nodded. She did the same. The food melted in her mouth like heaven. It was beyond delicious. “I can't believe all this was in my refrigerator.”